Laura
Corey had barely finished explaining the changes to the back patio when I noticed the second structure rising beside the unfinished pool.
I stopped walking.
The building was already framed, with wide openings facing the water and enough height for a full second floor. It was far too large to hold towels, pool floats, and a few lounge chairs.
I pointed toward it. “What is that?”
Corey shifted the rolled plans beneath his arm.
“The pool house.”
My father laughed from behind me. He had Evan balanced on one hip while my son wore a miniature hard hat one of the workers had given him.
“I thought it was a guesthouse,” Dad said.
“It isn’t a guesthouse,” Corey replied.
I stared at the building. “It looks like a house.”
“It’s beside the pool.”
“That does not make your answer less s
