Okay, wait, yes it was. Because the place is small. Tiny, really, especially compared to my place. But that’s not really what I notice first. What I notice right away is how colorful it is. She’s got pillows in reds, yellows, and purples. Her rugs are full of color and pattern. The windows let in a ton of light, which only adds to the warmth of the place. Even on this frosty day, her place feels warm, inviting. Her living room is open to the kitchen, which is minuscule compared to mine. It looks like she’s only got a two-burner stove and the small oven to go with that. There’s an island with enough room for two stools.
In her living room, there’s the ugliest sofa and chair I’ve ever seen placed in front of an old boxy television that can’t be more than twenty inches. But the stars of the room are two bookcases that I’d guess are about six feet tall. There’s one on either side of a dormer window that make the place feel even more inviting than her pillows.
“Can you set them over here, please?” I look over and see Maggy standing next to the small island in the kitchen.
“Sure.” I make my way over and place the bags on the countertop. “I saw them deliver these. Why didn’t they carry them up for you?”
“They don’t do that. Liability or something is what it says on the website.”
Bullshit. I bet if she offered to pay a fee, they’d carry them up. “Then you need to find a different grocer.”
“Uh-huh.” She’s standing with both hands resting on the counter. “Well, thank you for carrying up my bags.”
I choose to ignore her blatant attempt to get rid of me by looking past her living area to a small alcove. Stepping closer, I see a crib, dresser with a changing table, and some open boxes. I also see the walls in the space covered by wallpaper that are all baby. It’s a soft green color, and the pattern on it looks to be baby animals playing and, dare I say, frolicking? It’s cute shit. Looking down, I peek inside the open box on the floor. A light fixture. Then, I look up to see the old one still on the ceiling. “You’re not putting this up yourself, right?” I arch my brow and look back at her. She’s still at the counter, watching me.
“No. Gus is coming over to hang it for me.”
Fucking Gus.
“I’ll do it for you.” I mean, I’ve got nothing else to do.
“No.”
I turn my head again to look at her. “No?”
“I don’t need your help.”
That’s probably good. “Well, I get that.” I mean, she’s made it crystal clear. “But I’m here, and I’ve hung plenty of light fixtures.” I smirk. “I’m a contractor, remember?”
“Uh-huh.” She steps around the island and moves to the front door. I watch her reach for the knob, turn it, then open the door. “Thanks anyway.”
“Babe…”
Her neutral face turns to a frown instantly. “Do. Not. Call me babe.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head. Ignoring her attempt to kick me out, I peek into a bathroom that is only big enough for her tub, toilet, and a small pedestal sink. On the other side of the alcove is her bedroom. It’s bright, sunny, like I suspect she is ordinarily. Not with me though. I think I bring out the worst in her. Not a surprise.
“You got a ladder?”
I look over at her and see she’s tapping her little foot on her hardwood floors. Beautiful hardwood, I must admit. Hickory, if I was to guess. “Nate.”
I turn to her. “Maggy. Let me hang this for you. It’ll take me five minutes.”
More like thirty, but five sounds better.
With a sigh that tells me I’ve won; she slams the door shut. “Fine.”
“Ladder?”
“Basement.”
If I had to wager, I’d bet you a million bucks she’s carried that ladder up here herself in recent weeks. “You shouldn’t be carrying goddamn ladders, either.”
“I didn’t. Gus did.”
Goddamn Gus.
“Be right back.” I reach for the door, and that’s when I spot yet another piece of ugly furniture. This one is a tiny sofa. “What’s going on with that?” I point down at it, and sure, my voice sounds a little judgmental.
