“Had to pick the heaviest piece of furniture in the store?” She flicks her hair off her shoulder.
I shake my head and stand up straight, looking around. The room is empty, but it has fresh paint on the newly shiplapped walls, baseboards, and trim. The Revere Pewter on the walls allows the stark white trim to pop. The double doors to the closet are open, showing off the custom closet system I built. I put a faux wood dresser from Ikea in the left corner with a shelf above it. I left the right side for hangers with a long shelf across the top. With room for clothes and additional storage, it’s the perfect closet. My followers ate it up.
“Oh, can I do the kicky thing?” She motions toward the rug, and I chuckle.
“Sure.”
Securing my phone to the tripod, I grab a utility knife and press record, open up the new rug, and Trish kicks it out. The vintage rug unwinds, flopping over itself until it’s completely flat on the floor. I end the video only to start a new one to show the intricate design of the rug up close. My platform contains “how-to” videos because I don’t just want to show my followers what I can do, but I want them to know they can do it too.
“So how’s work?” I straighten the rug on the floor.
Trish scoffs. “It’s like I’m the only one who actually cares about keeping their job.”
“You wanted to work at Target.”
“I know. I still love it there. It’s just that I wish there were other workers who cared and didn’t only work when they had a supervisor close by.”
“There’s no way you’re holding back your disapproval of how lazy they are.” I chuckle. Trish is definitely not the silent type when she has an opinion.
“That may be why I’ve gotten several dirty looks from some of the lazier people.” She laughs and shrugs it off.
The hours go by as I carefully place each piece of furniture in its place. I assemble the new caramel leather bed frame piece by piece as Trish explains each step, only having to redo a few when we realize we did a part wrong. We push it against the largest wall, and my heart leaps as I watch the space come together. Wrapping the Tuft & Needle mattress in white linen sheets, I lay the matching quilt on top. I fluff the pillows and place accented olive green throw pillows in front. I loved these items on my bed, so I bought the same things in different colors for this room. The final touch is an olive green waffle pattern throw blanket, folded and draped over the right corner of the bed.
Trish organizes the opposite wall. It’s what I love the mostabout the room: the library wall. I did an Ikea hack with three of their bookshelves. Since they didn’t go to the ceiling, I made them look built into the wall and made arches where the space was above each bookshelf.
She places my last fantasy book on the shelf and takes a few steps back before collapsing backward onto the bed, exhaling loudly on impact. “This is my room.”
I laugh. “What?”
Scooting her body up onto her forearms, she peers over at me between her toes. “I’m the only guest you ever have, so I think it’s only fitting that I have my own room for all those late-night project planning sessions we have.” She flops back onto the bed. Her hair splays out around her. “It’s so comfortable.”
I shake my head before joining her. She is right, I usually run all of my project ideas and paint colors by her before making the final decisions. “Thanks for your help. I don’t think I could have gotten all of this finished without you.”
She nudges me with her elbow. “Yes, you would have. It just wouldn’t have been as much fun.”
I chuckle. “That’s true.”
“You sure you’re okay after seeing him?” she asks, as she wrings her fingers together.
My lips press together. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“I know. I just wanted to make sure . . .”
“How about you turn on a movie, and I’ll make dinner?” I say, cutting her off.
Her blue eyes brighten. “Hallmark?”
“Definitely.” I get off the bed and go into the kitchen. Opening the freezer, I grab ground beef, thankful for the way cute, feel-good movies distract me from the adulting activities I don’t care for. Trish’s footsteps sound in the living room, and I already know she’s going to stay the night. We have frequent movie nights, especially after she’s had a hard day.
Standing in the kitchen, I imagine what I want this kitchen to be. I grab all the ingredients from my cabinets and imagine a walk-in pantry using the large closet next to the refrigerator. Leaning over, I get another pot out of the cabinet and imagine the new wooden cabinets that will replace these white particleboard ones. I make lists of brands in my head to reach out to, asking if I can work with them. I’m always planning the next project before posting about the current one.
Dinner is almost ready when soft snores come from the couch, and I chuckle. I make myself a bowl and quietly walk out the back door, pulling on a sweater as I go. The bright stars shine enough that I can barely see the edge of my five acres. This house may not be big, but I didn’t buy it because of the house. I bought it for the old oak trees scattered across the property and the thicker pines hiding my little sanctuary from the road. A cool breeze swirls around as I put a few logs in the fire pit. The leaves are changing, bringing a completely different type of beautiful dream. There’s a little nip in the air as October approaches, and I love having fires to curl up beside. Lounging in my favorite chair, I wiggle my toes in front of the growing fire. The chili has cooled enough to eat, and sitting here under the moon in front of a fire brings back so many childhood memories—just like this, with my best friend.
2
CLAYTON:NOW
My eyes followmy best friend’s gaze as he checks out every woman who walks by the construction site. “What are you doing?”
