I offered to help carry it upstairs. Dave ignored me and carried it up alone. I opened the storm window. He positioned it for fit and then set it on the ottoman to attach the side and top extra parts. “I need a drill,” he said, not moving.
“Want me to get it?” I offered.
“Yeah,” he said. “Get the cordless drill and the driver, and the drill bit set. Thanks.”
I went down the basement and poked around the workbench. I saw the drill but the driver? There were a couple of possibilities. One thing that looked almost exactly like the drill, one smaller red thing that I thought maybe didn’t work anymore. Or had we replaced that one with this one? The workbench area is a mess. Plastic bins everywhere, from the condo when we kept things meticulously labeled and stacked, but now half empty, lids gone, things taken out and not returned. Like water, junk seeks its own level. I grabbed a new-looking drill bit case and carried it with the drill and the possible driver upstairs. “Perfect,” said Dave.
I sat on the bed while he did some stuff with the drill or the driver. Then he put the air conditioner back in the window. I stood up for that. “I need a level,” he said.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I need to make sure it drains,” he said.
“Well. I’m not going back down,” I said.
“I’ll go,” he said.
“Oh,” I said, and went back down. The level wasn’t in the toolbox, where it used to live. I stared at the workbench for a while and then turned the light on. I saw it standing in a corner by some paint cans. I carried it upstairs. Dave did some more stuff. “Oh,” he noted. “An extension cord.”
I brought up an extension cord. I put some clothes away. He gave me the manual and said maybe I should read about the remote. He put in some insulation and I read about the remote. He said something about nesting birds and replacing the accordion things with Plexiglas. “That’s what I did at my old house,” he said. Yawn.
He turned on the air conditioner and I controlled it with my remote. Project complete.