DiMera Mansion, 2019
The heat pumps in from the south, and it seems to Sonny even the air is sweating. Mornings and nights, when it's just barely tolerable, he works outside. In the afternoon, he stays in the colder areas of the house.
It's not that efficient, dragging tools in and out, but he's slowly making progress. That's the endgame here.
He doesn't call Will--figuring he needs to calm down some. But he thinks about him all the time.
Sonny thinks about Will when he's nailing boards, when he's choosing paint color, when he's installing the fans.
He thinks about Will the second he wakes up, in the middle of the night, only to find himself curled up by the edge of the pond, Tom's lapel watch clutched in his hand, face covered in tears.
He tries to not think about the sleepwalking in the daylight. But he can't not think about Will.
One more day, he orders himself as he wipes the sweat off is face. Then he's going to the square, and banging on his door. If Sonny has to back Will into a corner and force him to talk, that's what he's going to do.
Chad's wedding is coming up quickly. Which means, not only does he get to watch his best friend get married, but...his parents are flying in.
He's so unbelievably grateful they turned down his offer to let them stay with him. Everyone will be so much happier with them in the safe cocoon of a hotel suite.
Regardless, he's determined to finish the verandas, as well as one of the spare bedrooms. That way the lace looks even more impressive when they pull into the driveway, and he can prove he had the room offered.
His mom would check, most definitely. That's a given.
Sonny backs down the ladder, grabbing the cooler, gulping down cold water. Then splashes the rest over his head. Feeling refreshed, he walks across the lawn, then turns back to look.
Dripping wet, almost steaming, he feels a smile spread across his face.
"Not bad." He says out loud. "Not bad for a spoiled little rich boy."
He's finished the staircases. The sweep curves up opposite sides of one of the second floor verandas. Their elegance negate all the nicks, cuts, scrapes, and hours of back breaking labor.
They're going to be, Sonny realizes, his pride and joy.
All he has to do now is bribe the painters to work in this heat. Or pray the weather decides to chill.
Either way, he's not waiting until he finishes the back of the house. He wants the front painted, wanting to stand like he is now, seeing it shine in pure white.
To amuse himself, Sonny strides back, walking slowly up the stairs, crossing over and walking slowly down the other one. It gives him such a rush, he does it again.
Then he digs through his toolbox for his phone, and calls Will.
He has to share this excitement with him. Who cares if he's a day early?
The phone in Will's apartment rings when he glances over and sees Kristen DiMera crossing the front lawn. He hangs up, getting to his feet, putting the phone back in his toolbox.
"Good god, the heat's melting."
She beams at him, batting her eyelashes as she waves a hand in front of her face. He notes the jewelry she's wearing belongs to Marlena.
"And it's hardly noon. Look at you." She purrs.
She saunters right over to him, trailing a fingertip down his bare chest. "You're soaked."
"Non-shower shower." On instinct, he steps back so her finger isn't touching him. "How can I help you, Ms. DiMera?"
"Start by calling me Kristen. After all, you're good friends with Marlena--my boy too, aren't you?"
She wanders away some, eyes widening as she looks at the house. "I can't believe what you've done with this dump. You're pretty clever, aren't you, Sonny?" She flirts. "I can call you Sonny, can't I?"
"Sure. But cleverness isn't what got all this done." Sonny says. "Just time and effort."
And money, she thinks. A lot of money. "What're you being so modest for? What you're doing here is nothing short of a miracle. Would it be too out of your way to show me the inside? And I'd love a cold drink. Just making the walk over here has me parched."
No way in hell does Sonny want her in his house. More than disgust, there's this primal dread. But whatever else she is, she's Will's stepmother, and his own mother had done nothing if not raised him to be a gentleman.
"Sure. I have some lemonade."
"Can't think of anything better."
