“You might think it’s funny,” she ventured. “But I was thinking maybe I’d start in the library. I’ve heard trim is hard. But figured that if I start on the built-ins and I don’t do a good job, it will be covered up by the books.”
“That’s actually a great idea,” Ransom said.
He didn’t mention out loud that he also liked the idea of being in the room next to the kids. He was sure they were just fine snuggled up on the sofa watching a funny movie, but it was good to be close enough to hear if anything went wrong.
He and Hailey busied themselves finding the paint they needed for the library walls and trim, and he grabbed everything she would need for prep.
“What’s all that?” she asked when he carried in a big box of extras.
“This isn’t like back in the shop when we used to paint sets on the concrete floor that was already covered in a hundred different colors from all the other sets we’d painted there,” Ransom said. “We’ll want to use tarps on the wood floor in here, and we have to tape off what you’re not painting.”
“Oh, right,” she said.
“And there’s a coverall in here for you,” he went on. “So you don’t have to ruin any clothes. But if you have painting clothes, that works too.”
“Nope,” she said. “Though I might have some by the time I’m done if I forget the coverall.”
They continued unpacking the box and he showed her everything. He’d actually done most of the handiworkaround this house growing up, so he knew what to expect. He’d even painted this room himself back in high school, but it was high time for another coat.
“I guess what I really need to do is empty the room,” she said to herself, looking around.
“Yeah,” Ransom said. “That probably means you won’t get to the painting part tonight. But I can help you empty off the shelves and move all the furniture to the center of the room.”
“We can put the books in the boxes you brought the paint over in,” she said, her eyes lighting up.
That made him smile—it was Hailey all over. No matter the task at hand, she was always enthusiastic and ready to roll up her sleeves, even if it was something she had never done before.
He remembered her fearlessly hanging lights over the auditorium when the kid in charge of the light crew suddenly realized he was too scared of heights to climb the big ladder or stretch out from the catwalk to do the work. All the kids on crew looked up at her, her blonde hair glowing as she cranked the heavy metal fixtures securely into place, focused them, and dropped in gels. He was pretty sure none of the leading actresses in the other school plays in Tarker County were hanging from the ceiling, wielding a wrench.
And he’d definitely never seen anyone sell baked goods with such gusto as the year they didn’t have funding for the play and had to raise money themselves. Hailey didn’t just bake and sell stuff, she found a way to make it fun for everyone around her, and sheshonewhile she did it.
It was part of why he had known he couldn’t hold her back. The rest of the world deserved to see that beautiful light.
He swallowed over a lump in his throat and headed out to the porch without a word to retrieve the boxes.
When he got back inside, she was standing in front of one of the shelves, holding an open book.
“What’s that?” he asked, setting the boxes down and walking over to join her.
“Look,” she said, gazing down at the page with a smile.
It was the yearbook from their junior year, and the photo was of the cast and crew ofSleeping Beauty.
“You were an amazing Aurora,” he told her.
“We had so much fun, didn’t we?” she asked, her eyes still on the page.
Ransom was next to her in the picture, wearing the crew uniform—black jeans and t-shirt. The two of them were both smiling up at the camera, but they leaned toward each other slightly, like flowers seeking sunlight.
His heart ached at the memory of how proud he’d been that Hailey was his girl.
“I can’t believe your mom still had this,” Hailey said, smiling up at him. “Is it weird that I want to keep it?”
“Not at all,” he told her, clearing his throat. “I still have mine from senior year too.”
“You do?” she asked him.
“Sure,” he said. “Those were good memories.”
