Vanity Project - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 286

But I was willing to play along with Edwin until it dawned on me that he had very pos-
sibly winked when he advised me that it was an easy task.
“Ha ha,” I replied knowingly, hedging my bets. “You mean difficult , right?”
His eye drifted even further afield.
“No,” he said with maddening consistency, “simple.”
“It looks tough to me,” I countered neutrally.
“Well, maybe not too simple,” he went on, obviously trying to meet me half way.
Clearly, we were getting nowhere fast.
“Call me,” I mumbled, edging towards the door.
The roving eye wandered uncertainly.
“Call me with your estimate ,” I explained. “Tomorrow.”
He called three days later.
“I charge $40 an hour until job is done,” he stated baldly.
My brain reeled.
“But how long will it take?”
“Until it finish,” he replied unhelpfully.
“But surely you have some idea of how long that'll be. I mean, will it take a week…or
a month?”
“Yes,” was his response.
After agonizing over his tempting offer for at least three whole minutes I called him
back with the verdict.
“You must be joking.”
Or words to that effect.
☼ ☼ ☼
Meanwhile, it was back to square one for our little project.
In other words, it was time to call Jane.
“I've got the perfect fellow for you,” she announced. “My cousin's husband's uncle.”
His name was Frederico Franconi. He told me during our brief phone conversation that
he hailed from Aguadilla on the big island, was the proud father of seven children and was
called Freddy by all his friends.
He sounded normal enough. But when he appeared the next morning I was reminded of
the old adage: Don't judge a ceramic-tile-layer by his voice .
Let's start with Freddy's outfit, which might have been (charitably) characterized as
“Ronald McDonald Visits Margaritaville.”
It wasn't just his sensationally baggy yellow cargo pants that caught my eye—you
could have stuffed a mariachi band and a couple of supermodels into the side pockets and
still had room for a trowel—but also the broad-banded red and white T-shirt topped off
with a Hawaiian style “big as a muumuu” duster.