The sweltering summer heat burned his lungs with each breath. He surveyed the mess of boxes cluttering the garage. In another week his furniture would arrive and he’d feel officially moved in. The neighborhood, from what he’d scoped out, suited him. More importantly, the cost of living here fit his budget. The house still needed a fresh coat of paint and a few minor repairs, but he specialized in fixing things up. Best of all, he wouldn’t have to worry about losing his house to an angry ex-wife. From the cooler he snatched an ice-cold beer and pressed the glass against his face. The old, clunky fan from inside the garage squeaked with each oscillation. He took another swig and shook his head at the mess he had to tackle. Where to start? His earlier burst of motivation had melted with the heat. Cal considered heading inside to hook up the cable. Maybe he’d plop down in the recliner—his only piece of furniture right now—and watch sports. Only the tools he needed were still packed away.
