Cal Mercer looked at Anthony Wittenberg.
Then at Staz Vuhain.
Then at the two freed gloves lying in a trash bin.
“No.”
Anthony frowned.
“We didn’t ask anything.”
“You were going to.”
Staz said, “We would like another assignment.”
“No adhesive.”
Anthony spread his hands.
“That seems unfair.”
Cal stared at him.
“You glued yourself to a house.”
“Once.”
“Today.”
Staz folded her arms.
“It was not entirely his fault.”
Anthony looked at her.
“Thank you.”
“It was mostly his fault.”
“There it is.”
Cal rubbed his face.
It was after supper.
The sun was dropping.
Most of the younger package crews had been shifted into easier finishing jobs or sent to eat. Adults and older teenagers had spread through the completed houses, attacking the endless list between structurally finished and actually livable.
Cal pointed down the block.
“Door hardware.”
Anthony looked suspicious.
“What kind?”
“Handles. Latches. Strike plates. Privacy locks where they’re marked.”
“No glue?”
“No glue.”
Staz asked, “Powered tools?”
Cal looked at her.
“Small driver.”
She smiled.
Cal immediately regretted mentioning it.
“One driver.”
Anthony and Staz spoke together.
“I’ll take it.”
Cal closed his eyes.
“One of you drives. One of you feeds hardware and checks the schedule. Switch every room.”
Staz held out her hand.
Anthony did too.
Cal put the driver against his chest.
“Do I look stupid?”
Anthony wisely said nothing.
Cal pointed toward the house.
“Go.”
They went.
Cal called after them.
“And if I find either of you attached to anything, I’m sending you home.”
Staz turned around while walking backward.
“What if it is not adhesive?”
Cal pointed down the street.
“Go.”
Anthony laughed all the way to the house.
The first bedroom door already hung perfectly.
Anthony checked it.
Staz looked at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure.”
“Cal said it was ready.”
“I know.”
“Then why check?”
“You’ve spent too much time with D’rez.”
“No. I want to know why humans touch everything after another human says it is finished.”
Anthony opened the door.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
“It feels good.”
“That is not measurement.”
“It’s a door.”
“That is not an answer.”
He smiled.
“You sound like Cal.”
Staz looked horrified.
Anthony laughed.
They unpacked the first hardware set.
Staz read the room schedule.
“Bedroom. Privacy.”
Anthony fitted the latch.
She handed him the handle assembly.
He installed it.
Staz watched.
“Crooked.”
“It is not crooked.”
“It is.”
Anthony looked.
It was crooked.
Slightly.
He loosened it.
Staz smiled.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t say you were right.”
“You corrected it.”
“That is different.”
“It is exactly the same.”
He straightened the handle and tightened it again.
Staz checked.
“Good.”
Anthony handed her the driver.
“Your room.”
She took it with obvious satisfaction.
The second door went faster.
By the fourth they had stopped discussing the sequence.
Anthony opened boxes.
Staz installed.
Next room, switch.
Staz laid out hardware.
Anthony installed.
They moved through the house with increasing efficiency.
Latch.
Handle.
Strike.
Check.
Next.
At some point Anthony realized they were no longer trying to beat each other.
They were trying to beat the house.
“How many?”
Staz checked the list.
“Seven remaining.”
“We can do seven before dark.”
She looked toward the window.
“The sun is already almost gone.”
“Before full dark.”
“That is changing the conditions.”
“Yes.”
“That is cheating.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“I accept.”
They accelerated.
At the final bathroom, Staz installed the latch while Anthony held the handle set ready.
She reached without looking.
He put it into her hand.
She stopped.
“What?”
“That was correct.”
Anthony frowned.
“What was?”
“You handed me the correct part.”
“There are only two parts.”
“There are four.”
“Close enough.”
“No.”
She installed the handle.
Anthony fitted the opposite side.
Their hands met around the door edge.
Both stopped.
Anthony looked at her.
Staz looked at him.
For a second neither moved.
Then Anthony said, “At least there’s no glue.”
Staz laughed so suddenly she had to let go of the handle.
“You ruined it.”
“Ruined what?”
She looked at him.
“The moment.”
Anthony froze.
Staz smiled.
“You recognize that word?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She picked the handle back up.
Anthony stood on the other side of the door trying to recover.
“What moment?”
“You know.”
“I want you to say it.”
Staz looked through the latch opening at him.
“That is annoying.”
“You’ve been doing it to me all day.”
“No. I insult you.”
“You told me that was flirting.”
“You told me that was flirting.”
“Right.”
They finished the handle.
Anthony closed the door.
Staz opened it.
Closed it.
Locked it.
Unlocked it.
“Good.”
Anthony leaned against the wall.
“So?”
“So what?”
“The moment.”
Staz put the driver down.
Then she stepped closer.
Not touching.
Just close enough that Anthony stopped pretending he did not know what was happening.
“You like me.”
Anthony swallowed.
“Yes.”
Staz nodded.
“I like you.”
He smiled.
“That was easy.”
“Yes.”
“Humans normally make that harder.”
“I have noticed.”
Anthony laughed.
She looked pleased with herself.
Then he said, “What does that mean for you?”
Staz considered the question seriously.
“That I want to work with you tomorrow.”
Anthony blinked.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
His expression changed.
Staz smiled.
“But it is enough for tonight.”
Anthony nodded.
“Okay.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m trying not to say anything stupid.”
“That has not stopped you before.”
“There she is.”
Staz bumped her shoulder against his.
Anthony bumped back.
She smiled.
Then picked up the driver.
“We are finished.”
Anthony looked around.
“With this house.”
“Yes.”
“You want another?”
“Yes.”
“Even after being glued to one?”
“That was hours ago.”
Anthony laughed.
They walked outside.
The block had changed in the dark.
House after house glowed from inside.
People moved through windows carrying tools and boxes.
A side-by-side rolled slowly down the alley with another finishing crew aboard.
Somebody had music playing farther down the street.
The taco truck was still open.
Its lights made a bright little island near the intersection.
Anthony pointed.
“Food.”
“We ate.”
“That was hours ago.”
Staz considered.
“Burrito.”
Anthony stared at her.
“You said tacos were better.”
“They are.”
“You just said burrito.”
“I am hungry enough that containment has value.”
Anthony put both hands over his heart.
“I knew you’d come around.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“You absolutely did.”
They walked toward the truck.
Cal was coming the other way carrying a paper cup.
He stopped when he saw them.
“No glue?”
Anthony held up both hands.
“No glue.”
Cal looked at Staz.
“No glue.”
She showed him her hands.
Cal nodded.
“Good day.”
“We finished the house,” Anthony said.
“All of it?”
“Door hardware.”
Cal glanced toward the house.
“You checked every latch?”
“Yes.”
“Every privacy lock?”
“Yes.”
“Strike alignment?”
Staz said, “Yes.”
Cal looked almost disappointed that he could not find a hole.
“Another house is ready.”
Anthony looked at Staz.
Staz looked at Anthony.
Cal saw it.
“No.”
Anthony frowned.
“What?”
“That look.”
“What look?”
“The one that means I’m about to regret something.”
Staz said, “We will take it.”
Cal sighed.
“I knew that was coming.”
Anthony pointed toward the taco truck.
“After food.”
Cal nodded.
“Ten minutes.”
Staz said, “Fifteen.”
“Twelve.”
“Fourteen.”
Cal stared at her.
Anthony whispered, “Don’t negotiate with him.”
Staz ignored him.
“Thirteen.”
Cal took a drink.
“Fine.”
Staz smiled.
Cal walked away.
Anthony stared at her.
“You negotiated lunch.”
“Yes.”
“With Cal.”
“Yes.”
“I think I’m in love.”
Staz stopped.
Anthony stopped too.
His expression collapsed.
“I mean, not, I mean…”
Staz began laughing.
Anthony closed his eyes.
“I was doing so well.”
She took his hand.
That stopped him.
Staz looked at their hands.
Then at him.
“No glue.”
Anthony smiled.
“No glue.”
She kept holding it.
They reached the taco truck that way.
Thirteen minutes later they were walking toward another house with a burrito each, one tool bag between them, and absolutely no intention of quitting before somebody made them.
