Page 7 of Foxer Upper (Harmony Glen #8)

MAGGIE

About a week after our dinner, I meet Gabe at the hardware store to film our segment on diverse tools. I drive, even though it isn’t far, because I have to bring my equipment with me.

I knock on the door, laden with stuff, and Gabe opens it almost immediately. “Hey. Let me help you with all that.” He takes a light and the tripod from me. “Good grief. Do you use this stuff for every video?”

“A lot of them,” I say, hauling two more lights into the store.

“It depends. If I’m vlogging, then no. But for anything that I want to look professional, this is what’s required.

People think content creation is just being entertaining on camera, but the backend of the work is a lot.

Planning, editing, getting all the equipment, finding sponsors… it’s not as easy as it might seem.”

I glance around the room. The big front windows keep the store well-lit during the daytime, but now that it's after six, they’re casting annoying shadows all over the place.

“Where do you want to set up?” Gabe asks, noticing my frown.

“I’m not sure.” I look up at the top of the windows, in case there are shades I can pull down, but there’s nothing. “Maybe we could set something up? Plywood on sawhorses or something? Far enough back that the light from the windows won’t mess with filming.”

“Yeah, we could do that. Come this way.” We take everything to the back of the store, where the paint swatches decorate the wall.

“You know, this might make a good background. If the camera focuses correctly, it’ll be vibrant but not distracting.” I start fiddling with settings as he sets up a makeshift table.

While I’m tinkering the filming equipment, Gabe sets up an arrangement of tools on the plywood.

The variety is actually pretty astonishing.

There are hard hats for beings with horns; telescoping tools and measuring tapes for monsters who are extra tall, like giants; heat-resistant tools that will operate even when heat-generating creatures use them; tool belts that accommodate wings; safety glasses for those who have more—or fewer—than two eyes; and equipment that will work underwater or in specialized electromagnetic fields.

It’s an impressive collection.

I give Gabe a rundown of how the filming usually works, and then fire up the cameras.

“Hi, friends! Welcome back to my channel. If you’re new here, my name is Maggie, and I feature all things DIY.

Today I’m here with Gabe, a vulpine handyman, contractor, and owner of Harmony Hardware, to talk about inclusivity in tool design, because not everyone who uses tools is human.

This is the first in my new series about diversity in DIY.

If you enjoy it, please be sure to like and subscribe! ”

I turn to Gabe and ask him to describe and demonstrate the items. He grabs something that resembles a stick. “This is a tail-operated saw guide. For anyone with a prehensile tail, like me, who is using a table saw, this guide is not only useful, but helps keep our tails safe.”

He picks up a screwdriver. “This is a talon-compatible screwdriver. It has built-in finger guards and channels carved into the grip. It’s designed for anyone with claws, such as gargoyles. It also features magnetic tips, which is helpful for people who don’t have the most dexterous grip on screws.”

Next, he lifts a hammer. “This is a wide-grip hammer. The handle expands two to three times the normal width and includes ergonomic finger grooves. It’s great for trolls, orcs, or anyone with large paws or thick fingers. It also has non-slip textured grips that work with fur and rough skin.”

He carries on describing items, as I interject with questions.

After about an hour, I declare us finished.

I turn off the lights I brought and start taking down our makeshift set.

“It’s going to require editing, of course, but I think this video is going to be great. I’ll let you know when it’s live.”

“Sounds perfect,” he says with a smile. “I can’t wait to see it.”

GABE

It’s late on a Saturday afternoon when I finally make it over to Maggie’s to do a casual inspection. Once again, she’s in her cute, paint-splattered overalls. Her hair is in a messy bun and her blue eyes are bright and twinkling.

“Gabe, you finally made it! Come on in.”

I step into the foyer and look around. She wasn’t kidding about this being a big project. Wallpaper is half stripped, floors are sanded in some parts, paint samples decorate the walls, and tools are scattered around.

Still, I can see why she was drawn to this place. If you look beyond the chaos, the vision is there. I spy original hardwood floors and moldings, slits for pocket doors, a couple of ceiling medallions, and a banister with turned-wood spindles.

“Sorry about the mess. I would say I intended to clean before you came over, but that’s not true. It always looks like this.”

I nod, understanding. Renovation is a messy business. “So, what exactly do you have going on?”

“Well, the house is sort of one-and-a-half stories. There isn’t a full second level, but I do have a bedroom and bathroom upstairs.

Down here, there’s the kitchen, a living room, a dining room I’m using as a den, another bathroom, and then a sort of bonus room that could function as a den, an office, or another bedroom.

And then there are the front and back porches and the yard, which is big, but I’m not planning to tackle outdoor stuff until spring. ”

She leads me through the living room, talking as she goes.

“I had the fireplace inspected and it works, but I want to change the look of it,” she says, pointing at the soot-stained hearth.

“I’m still dealing with wallpaper in here.

I swear there must be five layers of it.

I’ve been steaming and scraping for days.

Once I’m done, I want to paint the walls and ceiling, refinish the hardwood floor, and change out the lighting.

I’m hoping to find complementary chandeliers for the living room and dining room. Speaking of…”

She leads me through the narrow doorway into the dining-space-turned-den.

“It’s the same story in here, except I also want to widen that doorway.

Not make it full open concept, but make a bigger opening between the rooms. I still want to keep some division between them, but it’s a little claustrophobic like this. ”

I nod. “That shouldn’t be too difficult. We’d have to go to the attic to check, but I don’t think that’s a load-bearing wall.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so either.” She points to a small hallway off the dining room.

“That’s the bathroom and the bonus room.

The bathroom is a total gut job, so there’s not much to see.

And the bonus room is currently being used for storage, so you can barely get in there. Come check out the kitchen.”

I follow her, noticing that the kitchen is in mildly better shape than the other two rooms. She must have started in here. All the wallpaper is gone and the appliances appear to be in good shape. The floor looks rough, though.

“It’s more of the same in here: painting, lighting, etc.

I ripped out some truly awful linoleum, so I need to deal with the floor.

And I want to change the backsplash. I saw this sort of raw stone tile that could create a ‘cottage in the woods’ effect that might be pretty.

Then again, it might not honor the history of the house.

I’m always open to opinions on tile. Just ask Laney. ”

“Noted,” I say with a chuckle. “It’s hard to go wrong with something classic, but subway tile isn’t exactly exciting.

It depends on how you want the room to feel when you’re in it, I think.

If you want to evoke a cottage in the woods, why not?

How are the appliances?” I lean forward, trying to get a closer look, and brush against Maggie.

A heated, electrical jolt goes through my whole body and, in a totally embarrassing, teenage reaction, I feel myself start to go hard.

What the hell? Pretending to inspect the backsplash wall, I take several deep breaths.

With effort, I manage to calm my body down, but I have no idea what just happened.

Sure, Maggie is attractive, and yeah, I’m interested in her, but a simple touch shouldn’t have me reacting like a kid spontaneously tenting his pants. I’m thirty-fucking-four.

I refocus on Maggie, who’s talking about appliances and doesn’t seem to have noticed my distraction.

“They’re all fine, in terms of working, though the dishwasher sometimes doesn’t do the most thorough cleaning job. They aren’t the prettiest, but they work for now. I’ll replace them down the road, but they aren’t a current priority or anything.”

She takes me upstairs and shows me the bathroom that she’s been working on. The walls are painted, the floor is freshly tiled, and the lighting has been replaced. She’s obviously put a lot of time into this room.

“I’m still searching for the perfect tub and a cabinet to house the sink. And a new mirror. But overall, this is coming along well.”

I poke my head in her bedroom, but I feel weird going in there, so I swerve back down the stairs, which also need to be refinished. “Let’s take a walk around the outside,” I suggest.

We do a quick perimeter check; at first glance, the foundation and roof both look good. “Don’t think you need a new roof,” I tell her.

“Thank goodness. I had it inspected when I bought the house, but glad to hear you agree. Same goes for the foundation.”

“You have a great backyard,” I say. “Tons of space and potential, and it backs right up on the stream.”

“I do have big plans for it, but I want to get the interior a little more livable first,” she explains, which makes perfect sense, especially as we head into the colder months.