It’s like I don’t know who I am anymore, or where I belong. Last week, I handled acquiring works for one of the most prestigious galleries in the area. On top of that, while my house was in disarray, it was being fixed by someone whom at first I couldn’t stand, but since that kiss, I was starting to see him in a different light. Except ever since that kiss, it was like it never had even happened. We never talked about it and our interactions seemed…neighborly, but that was it.
After a long day of visiting galleries on the east side of town, I put on my happy face as I walk through the front door of Jimmy’s house. Kale races to my feet, hopping until I reach down and pet him. His tiny snorts bring a genuine smile to my face. I almost forgot what that felt like.
“Jimmy? Are you home?” I glance down at Kale. “Where’s your papa? Is he here?” The house is quiet with the exception of the noises coming from Kale’s mouth.
I step into the kitchen and notice a piece of paper on the table. I pick it up and read the print:At your house. Come over when you get home.I’m surprised at how neat and precise his handwriting is. The note doesn’t appear rushed, like he took his time and put thought into it, even for such simple words.
I can’t help but wonder what he found now, though. Maybe he came across mold. Or a hornet nest. Did that raccoon and his family move in and take over my home? I don’t want any surprises, especially terrible ones. Losing my job is enough.
Walking across the lawn back to my house is awkward. I’m getting used to Jimmy’s house. That has become my normal. Not this. Not the house I purchased with my hard-earned money. Not the house for which I will need to find a job as quickly as possible, so I don’t dwindle down my savings to pay my mortgage.
When I open my front door, I peek in like I’m entering a stranger’s home. The kitchen is exactly how I left it, with the dishes the raccoon broke still on the ground. I should have come back and cleaned all this up. Now maybe I can, since I suddenly have the time.
“Oh good, you’re here.” Jimmy says as he comes strolling down the hall. He’s sweaty, his light hair stuck to his face, his cheeks a little red. “Come on.” He waves me to the back of the house.
He stops me before we reach my bedroom. “Close your eyes.” I do as he says and his hand touches mine. A jolt of electricity races through me as his fingers intertwine with mine. I can hear his breath next to my ear.
“Okay. Open them.”
I flutter my eyes open, taking note that Jimmy hasn’t let go of my hand yet. He squeezes as I gasp at my bedroom, not painted, but a solid, unbroken wall that has been primed. Jimmy drops my hand, grabs something, and hands it to me.
A paint roller.
“Are you ready for the next step?”
It’s hard to believe we’re at this point already. When I showed up on Jimmy’s doorstep to stay with him, I thought it would be long and agonizing. Now, here we are, and the final step of the process is upon us. Once I’ve painted this room and put the furniture back where it belongs, that’s it. I’m out of Jimmy’s house. I never have to spend time with him again if I don’t want to.
Except I’ve grown to enjoy his company. Will I be sad to see it go?
I take the roller from him. “Point me in the direction of the paint.”
He takes my hand again and pulls me over to the other side of the room. “Care to do the honors? First roll is all yours.”
This is silly, but it still makes me laugh. That’s one thing Jimmy does—brings a smile to my face. I take the roller and roll it down the dish, the beautiful blue I’ve chosen covering it. It’s smooth as I move it up and down the wall. Wow. The color is gorgeous. I can’t wait to see the finished project.
Jimmy joins me in painting and we spend the next half hour working our way down the wall. A hint of paint falls from the roller and nearly hits my shoe.
“Oh, I didn’t even consider what I’m wearing! I don’t want to get my work clothes full of paint.” While I may not be working, I still want to keep my clothes in good condition. I fully intend to find a new job soon.
“What’s the big deal? Unwind a bit.” With an intended flick, paint splatters across my blouse.
“What are you doing?” I squeal. “This is a sixty-dollar blouse!”
Jimmy rolls his eyes. “Loosen up, Reese. Have some fun. It’s all about work for you, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“You’re so serious all the time. Always working or thinking about work. Enjoy some playtime.”
“Playtime? Am I ten?”
Jimmy eyes me up and down. “Definitely not. Although the temper tantrum you’re about to throw says differently.”
“Temper tantrum? I’m not about to do that.”
He flicks more paint onto me. “Are you sure about that?”
I roll more paint onto my roller and I snap it into his direction. The paint not only lands on his shirt but dots his cheeks as well.
