“Well, I’d like to paint the kitchen cabinets too. I’m not sure what color exactly, but I’d like something to perk up the kitchen. The countertops are just white laminate, and I don’t plan to replace them. And the floors, well, they’ll probably need to be redone too.”
“So ... this a small house?” he asked with interest. “Like a beach cottage perhaps?”
“How’d you guess?”
He shrugged. “It’s not a big leap in these parts. Anyway, since it’s a small house you might not want to get too many colors going—might feel too busy.”
“Tell me the truth.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you an interior decorator?” she teased.
“Nope.” He laughed as he pulled out another color sample. “But how about this for your cabinets? It’s kind of bold, but might be fun in a small kitchen. And it’s beachy.”
She studied the slightly darker shade of turquoise blue. “I actually think that would be really nice.” She could imagine it with the Fiestaware dishes—it would make a real statement in the drab, tired kitchen.
He fanned out the three paint samples for her approval. “They go nicely together. Good for a small house.”
“I love it,” she told him. “I don’t know how you picked them so easily.”
“I’ve been told I have a good eye.” He handed the two blue samples to Allan, explaining what they were for. “A quart should be plenty for the cabinets and probably a gallon for the pale blue, although she’ll probably only need half of it.”
While Allan mixed, the first salesman helped her to pick out some painting tools. The whole time he continued making small talk with her. He was clearly intent on extracting some information. Grateful for his assistance, she no longer felt irked at his curiosity. Without disclosing everything, she explained about summers spent in Seaside and how she was now fixing up a beach cottage that she’d inherited.
“I don’t have much time to get a lot done.” She set a paint tray and roller on top of the other items.
“What’s the hurry?”
“Well, I have to get it done in order to ... well, before Christmas.”
“So do you have anyone around to help you with your improvements?”
She suspected he wanted to know if she had a significant other. Instead she told him about Gordon the handyman.
“Oh, yeah, Gordon is the best. Good for you.”
“And I’ve got my son, Jackson. He’s only twelve, but he’s extremely helpful.”
He appeared to consider this, but to her relief, didn’t push anymore. “I seem to have forgotten my manners.” He stuck out his hand. “My name is Caleb Colton. I’ve lived in Seaside my whole life. Well, aside from college and a few years in the Big Apple, where I thought I was going to find a more interesting life.” He shook his head. “I was wrong about that.”
“Oh...” She nodded as they shook hands. “I’m Wendy Harper.”
“Welcome to Seaside,” he said. “Or maybe I should say welcomeback.”
She studied him closely, wondering. “Do you think our paths might’ve crossed as kids ... I mean, here in Seaside?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” His smile was lopsided. “But you probably wouldn’t recognize me or remember me from back then. I was a pretty geeky teen. Scrawny with braces. Seriously, I could pass for twelve when I was sixteen. Not a real chick magnet.” He chuckled.
Wendy stopped herself from admitting that he’d grown up rather nicely. Just then, Allan announced that her paint was ready. Caleb appeared determined to continue helping, loading the smaller buckets in her cart and carrying the biggest one to the cash register, waiting as the cashier rang it up. Wendy tried not to look as shocked as she felt by the total, swallowing hard as she handed over her credit card.This is an investment, she told herself as she signed her name.I’ll pay it all back with the sale of the house.Hopefully soon!
“I’ll help you get it to your car.” Caleb picked up the big paint bucket and the toilet box.
Still feeling stunned—and a bit light-headed—she followed him out, waiting as Caleb loaded everything into the back of her Subaru. “Thank you so much,” she told him. “I really appreciate it. I didn’t know the hardware store had such great customer service.”
He laughed as he closed the back of the car then turned to face her. “So ... you say you’ll be without plumbing for a few days?”
“Gordon said a couple days—more if the damage is bad.”
“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving? If you don’t have plumbing by then, you probably can’t cook much.”
“I haven’t really thought about that.” She shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bag. “I guess Jackson and I will go out for dinner to celebrate.” She smiled brightly as she opened the driver’s side door. “Thanks again, Caleb.” Without giving him a chance to pursue this further, she hopped into the car, gave a cheery wave, then backed out.
