He stood up straight, looking Aaron in the eyes. “I’m painting my house.”
Jewel felt pleased to hear Dad lay claim to his house. She also felt defensive. “That’s right, Aaron. It’s his house and he can paint it.” She patted her dad on the back. “You’re doing good work, Dad. Keep it up.”
“But it might dry hard and be impossible to turn,” Aaron told her in an irritated tone.
“Don’t worry.” She tugged his arm, talking quietly as she ledhim over to the back door where she wanted his guys to make an adjustment to the step. “I go around after him and clean things up,” she whispered. “The spigot will be fine.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess you know what you’re doing.”
“We just muddle along the best we can.” She turned her attention to where his crew was laying out the wood for the front deck. “It looks like you’ve got things under control, so I’ll leave you to it.” She held up her phone. “I’ll be in my studio. If you have any questions, just call me.”
He grinned. “You promise to answer?”
“Of course.” She gave an uneasy smile, worried that last comment was about more than just business. “And please, just let my dad paint in peace. It’s been a blessing to keep him busy. We all appreciate it.” She forced a bigger smile. “It’s wonderful to see this house coming together. I can’t wait to see the deck and awning and everything all in place.” She finger-waved, then scurried off to the barn. A couple hours of undisturbed creative work sounded amazing right now.
After her dad’s mess with her oil paints, Jewel had decided to take up acrylics again. And, really, it made perfect sense. With acrylics’ tendency to dry quickly, she had to move fast. And with stints in her studio limited, a faster work pace agreed with her. And it challenged her as an artist too. In the past she’d been guilty of overthinking her creative process, leading to stalling and procrastination. Too worried about the “perfect” outcome and the judgment of others, she’d almost paralyzed her inner artist. Being squeezed on time forced her to just jump in and do it.
But after a couple hours, which had flown by, Jewel was interrupted by the sound of loud voices and angry shouting. Suspecting her dad was involved, she dropped her brush in a jar of water and sprinted outside.
“Stop doing that right now,” Aaron was yelling. “Can you hear me, old man?”
Horrified at the tone Aaron was using, Jewel ran even faster, arriving breathlessly at the new house where there appeared tobe some sort of standoff. Aaron, Dad, and Miguel were standing in a triangle, with Aaron’s crew watching on with what looked like amusement.
“What’s going on?” Jewel demanded.
Aaron turned to her with a flushed face. “Your dad has made a big mess.” He pointed down to the deck. The beautiful raw cedar boards were partially painted with the green house paint.
“Uh-oh.” Jewel grimaced.
“He didn’t know.” Miguel stepped closer to her dad. “He thought we wanted that painted too, Jewel. But it’s okay—”
“Okay?” Aaron turned to Miguel with a glowering expression. “How is it okay? And what do you meanwe? What business is this of yours?”
“Miguel’s been helping me paint.” Jewel went over to stand by Miguel, grateful for the progress he’d made with her dad these past few days. They hadn’t actually exchanged words, but Dad hadn’t yelled at him either. He had almost seemed to appreciate Miguel’s help. Baby steps maybe, but progress all the same.
“So Miguel told your dad to paint the cedar boards while we were having a break?” Aaron looked accusingly at Miguel. “Do you plan to replace that wood?”
“If it needs to be replaced.” Miguel rubbed his chin. “But maybe it would make more sense to just get some good heavy-duty deck paint and cover the whole thing.”
“Paint a cedar deck?” Aaron laughed. “It figuresyou’dwant to do that.”
Although Jewel didn’t like the idea of painting the wood, she hated that Aaron was being mean even more. Both to her dad and Miguel. “That’s a great idea.” She nodded. “We can paint it the same color as the stained wood. And it’ll probably be even more durable.”
Aaron shook his head. “Won’t look as good.”
“What do you think, Dad?” she asked him. “Should we paint the deck?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded.
“Okay then.” She smiled at him. “But I’ll get a different color. And you can paint it, Dad. How about that?”
“Okay.”
“Did you finish in back?”
“Uh-huh.”
She took his brush and bucket. “Well, it’s lunchtime, and I’m sure Mom’s got something all ready for you. You better get in there.”
