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It was a big job, enough for a crew to do. But he was doing it himself. He considered it therapy. Something to do for his mind when he woke at three in the morning with a panic attack. It was something to occupy his hands besides the shaking and tremors of fear that he wasn't going to be able to do his job, to be good enough to do what he was supposed to do.He tried to think of a joke, a line, something to stop this feeling of inadequacy that was fighting its way up his throat from the knot in his stomach. Nothing.She turned and smiled at him. It was the first genuine smile that he had seen on her face. No artifice. It was beautiful and it hit him right below the diaphragm, making it almost impossible to breath."This is going to be something when it's done." She set the pizza down on the old, lumpy couch and stepped over a pile of boards to look out one of the windows he had replaced. His backyard was small, backing up to state land that was wooded and dark. He had done some. “Gee, I don’t know. I could use a little break from work and the house. But ... let me think about it. I will let you know tomorrow.” I was a bit flustered as I picked up my file and stood up. “Sorry, got to get back to work,” and quickly walked out of the break room, leaving my half-finished coffee behind.I sat at my desk wondering why I didn’t just say no thanks. I left it open that I might actually consider going out with a married man over fifteen years my junior.Peter asking me out was all I could think about when I got home that night. I thought about talking to John, but he was watching a ball game. But it felt awkward to approach him about my sex life face to face.The game ended around 10:30 pm, and John stretched and headed upstairs to his room. As soon as I heard his bedroom door shut, I ran upstairs to change into my nightgown, got in bed and called John’s number.“Hey, Mom, what’s up?”“You are not going to believe what happened at work today.”“Okay, I won’t believe you.”I.
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