What the heck? I stare at the oak underneath. It’s in surprisingly good condition, despite dust from the grout and other gunk. A bit of buffing, staining and applying topcoat, and the kitchen will have gorgeous hardwood flooring. What was Dad thinking? He wasn’t the type to care about real estate appreciation, but it seems wild that he would’ve activelydevalued his home.
The existing tiles are much sturdier than I expected. I pull out one of the newly delivered ones and compare. The old ones are at least three or four millimeters thicker. Wonder if that makes a difference.Should I have bought tiles that were equally thick?On the other hand, all the options basically had the same dimensions. Where did Dad get these ugly, thick things, anyway?
My phone rings.Is Noah checking up on me already?It hasn’t even been an hour.
I glance at the screen. Yuna and Ivy, requesting a video conference call. I hit the green button.
“Hello, ladies. Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I say, going back to chipping away at the grout. They texted me on Sunday after TJ, Josie and Cassie left, and I reassured them I was all right, although Yuna acted like the world was ending because I might get scarred. She told me to sue Reggie, then brought over some Korean ointment that’s supposed to prevent skin discoloration and pitting.
“Good to hear,” Yuna says. “But I just had a conversation with Eugene, that brother of mine.” Uh-ho. Whatever he said must’ve upset her to call him “Eugene, that brother of mine.” “How could you not have told us about your steakhouse lover boy?”
“Eugene told you?” I say, feeling slightly betrayed. He seemed like a stoic, silent fellow who wouldn’t gossip.
“It came up. I understand him not telling me when it happened because he’s a guy and guys tend to not recognize what’s important. Butyou?”
“We feel hurt and unwanted,” Ivy adds, laying it on thick. She’s been with Yuna for too long.
“Sorry,” I say. “I was kind of upset and distracted at the time.”
“Buildup but no payoff?” Ivy asks.
“So is that why you didn’t end up with your porterhouse passion? Eugene hinted you had a quickie with him at the restaurant.”
My face heats.Of course he knew.He isn’t blind, just too gentlemanly to show he noticed. I hammer the chisel with more force than necessary. “Um… I actuallydidend up with him.”
“What?” my friends say in unison.
“It was Noah.”
Ivy gasps. Yuna mutters something in Korean.
“Well, that explains why you didn’t tell us,” Ivy says.
“Yeah, it seemed like a one-off thing. I assumed he was just jealous of Eugene and acting like a savage.”
“Well, he shouldn’t have been. Jin isn’t getting married any time soon, although our parents keep sending him dossiers of info on possible merger wives.” Yuna went through the same thing. She actually fled Korea when her parents tried to pressure her into marrying some rich guy for some business merger, and Eugene tried to cut her off financially until she complied. “I’d laugh at the irony if it weren’t for the fact that this is Round Two for him.”
“Tell him I wish him luck. Look, this floor needs my undivided attention. Once I’m done, we’ll get some margaritas and you two canpry”—I wave the chisel in front of my phone’s screen—“to your hearts’ content.”
“Fine. I can take a hint,” Yuna says.
I place the chisel and give it a quick whack with the hammer. “Good.”
“Should you be doing that, though? Doesn’t your arm hurt?” Ivy asks.
“It’sfine. It was just some cuts, not a broken bone. Stop sounding like Noah.”
“He’s probably just worried. If I got cut like that, Tony wouldn’t have let the host drag the duo away.”
“Yes, but Tony is famously paranoid about your safety. And I understand why.” He almost lost her—twice. “But I can’t live like that.”
We say goodbye, and I go back to the floor. Four more tiles come off relatively easily. Then I get to the base of the counter and the first one there won’t budge. It also looks slightly newer, although the top is scratched and worn like the others.
I spend about five minutes of fruitless effort hunting for a good spot to pry it up.What is this stuff made of, adamantium?
No dice. I sit back and think. Maybe it would be better to break the tile in half and pry it up from the middle.
I place the chisel in the center of the tile and hit with a bit more power. Sure enough, it breaks cleanly in half. Success!
