“Wow.” I cover my mouth with two fingers. “Thisisgood.”
“See? I know what I’m talking about.”
“That you do. Construction and barbecue. You’ve got it all covered.”
Over the next forty-five minutes, we chit-chat and enjoy our meal together. I’m surprised how easily the conversation flows between the two of us. When we finish eating, we make our way to the Sherwin-Williams store.
The second we walk through the door we’re bombarded by walls filled with samples. I didn’t realize that so many combinations of colors exist. Every color—blue, red, green—they all have multiple shades within them. It doesn’t stop there, either. There’s eggshell, matte, gloss,semi-gloss if you can’t quite commit, high-gloss if you’re all about the shine. Another area shows different types of textures, like popcorn, sand swirl, and slap brush. I didn’t realize I’d be given so many options. I’m a tad overwhelmed.
“What’s your plan?”
My plan. I don’t have one. This never happens to me. That’s what this whole situation has done, though, made me unprepared. Between Alvin and Jimmy, I’ve dealt with more wrenches in my life than I’ve had in years.
“All I know is I plan on painting the entire room, not just the wall. Now’s the time to try something new. A fresh coat of paint can change a room entirely.”
“Or a tree through the wall.”
I slowly turn my head and squint my eyes at him while pursing my lips.
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Too soon?”
“What do you think? Why don’t you make yourself useful and pick out the supplies. I’ll meander through the colors.”
We separate and I start sifting over the samples, finding myself drawn to the blues. Freshwater, Jamaica Bay, Rapture Blue. They’re all so inviting and pleasant. I’m probably better off with a slightly lighter color, since paint always dries darker. The Rapture Blue could dry like the color called Briny, and then my room will look like a dungeon. After a long review, I decide on Surfin’.
“Jimmy,” I call as I turn around. He’s chatting with a brunette, who’s laughing at whatever he’s saying to her. She touches his arm and then takes her finger and wraps some of her hair around her ear. This looks intimate and I feel like I’m invading their privacy by watching. It shouldn’t, though. Jimmy’s my neighbor, maybe even a friend. That’s all though.
The woman reaches in and offers Jimmy a hug, which he accepts. His hand touches her back and a pang of jealousy rushes through me. Whatwasthat?
As they disconnect from each other and wave goodbye, I quickly turn around as though I’ve done something wrong. The paint sample is crumpled in my hand.
“You’re going with that one?” Jimmy says behind me.
I swing around, the crumpled sample in my hand. “Oh, yeah. It’s called Surfin’. I think it will look great.”
“Why is it all crumpled up?”
I look down at the paper as though I don’t know what I did. “Oh, I dropped it and stepped on it by accident. Shall we get this mixed?”
I move past him to the counter, not sure how to process what I just saw or how I feel about it.
13
Now that Ihave the paint for my room, I’m anxious to see the finished product and start rolling the color onto the walls. While Jimmy is trucking right along with the drywall, as well as outside of the house, it’s notquiteready to paint.
The past weekend is one I’m thankful for. I haven’t spent time away from my laptop in a long time. I indulged in a fabulous Katherine Center book, baked a batch of chocolate chip brownies, and took it upon myself to clean up Jimmy’s house a little. I didn’t ask about the woman at the paint store and he didn’t volunteer the information. He may not have even realized I saw them, and it’s not my business anyway. Still, I can’t stop thinking about it.
When I woke up this morning, Jimmy was already hard at work at my house. I waved goodbye to him as he stood on a ladder hammering on my roof. The temperature creeped up again over the weekend and when I left at 7:45 a.m., Jimmy’s shirt already clung to his body with sweat. That triggered me to reminisce about the kiss. Luckily, he turned away before he realized how long I had been staring at him.
I park my car and as I’m exiting, a ding alerts me to a text. It’s Janet.
Alvin Hamilton moved his meeting to 9AM today. Be ready.
Crap! I’m supposed to have until tomorrow. Overall, I think I am pretty prepared but I don’t like being thrown into something when I am not completely ready. It doesn’t matter. I have to do this.
I hop out of the car, open the passenger back door to grab my laptop.
Where is it? It’s not there.
