I came by to say hello before leaving town on Saturday morning. Jorge and I went over the plan once more, he said he would send me photos of the roof crew the next day, said he wished he was going with us on the trip (I instantly decided to buy a little one night mini-vacation for him and his wife when the house is done) and off I went, feeling calm and re-centered.
We were entering a new chapter, we were going to make it happen.
I left the house to Jorge and Luis. They were putting down the bedroom and bathroom floor and wow that was fun to see!
Driving down the dusty road, over the three river beds and under the bridge (there is a song, there) I felt good. At peace. I still wished I could be there for the roof crew but trusted that it was going to happen just the way it should.
A drive, a boat ride and many crooked cobblestoned streets later, my friend and I were happily exploring when I saw a message from Jorge pop up on my phone:
"Laura, I fell of the ladder and hurt my shoulder. I am on my way to get an X-ray. We cannot do the roof tomorrow."
BAM. Plot twist.
That night at dinner, my friend pointed out that upon hearing the news, I had said "It's going to be fine" five times in a row and quite fast.
More in a bit. It IS going to be fine.
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