Page 12 of If You Like It, I Love It

“Remember you said that.” I head for the back room to grab my purse. “See you in the morning.”

“Your contractor might like a little surprise, too,” she calls after me, a giggle trailing her words.

“Trust me, he hates surprises.”

Oliver’s still holding tight to his grudge. He’ll barely look at me when I feed him. I try bribing him with a little alfalfa on top of his pellets, but even that barely gets me a glance. It does get him to eat, though.

“Listen, buddy, your message has been received. I’m taking you into town in the morning, okay? You can prance up and down the sidewalk until your heart’s content while I run errands.”

I rub his neck, and he doesn’t jerk away from my touch, so I think maybe we’re making some progress. It’s hard to be sure with such a stubborn beast.

My cabinets are in, and they look great with the floor. Standing where my new expanded breakfast nook will be, I squint and try to envision the refurbished oak island in place with the new marble top and three small matching brass chandeliers hanging above it.

I told Enzo I’d found lighting, but I didn’t offer any details, and he hasn’t seen my choices yet. They’re going to look incredible, but I know he’s going to roll his eyes at them. They might be a little excessive, but I fell in love. The heart wants what the heart wants.

It didn’t help that I had Glynnis with me. She’s a chandelier queen, but even Sabrina oohed and aahed over my beautiful little lights dripping with tiny crystals. I can’t wait to see this room bathed in prisms when the sunlight hits them.

The phrase French country meets disco invades my brain, but I shake away the thought. It won’t be that over-the-top. Probably. And if it is? Well, who doesn’t love dancing in the kitchen?

Wow. It’s been a long time since I danced in this kitchen.

My stiff neck reminds me how stressful work was today. Wine. I need wine. And a bubble bath. Some food would probably be a good idea, too.

I spread the expandable teak tray across my tub and set my wine glass and my lidded bowl of charcuterie bites on it. A plate was out of the question because I’m definitely not coordinated enough to carry a wine glass, an open plate of food, and the microwaved cup of cake I made myself for dessert after all the balls I had to keep in the air this afternoon.

I had to microwave my cake in the garage because all my existing appliances are still out there. They should be moved back into the kitchen tomorrow, I assume—though I should know better than to make assumptions about Enzo’s timeline. He and I definitely have different priorities in some areas, but I hope he knows my old appliances have to come back into the kitchen until the new ones arrive.

The new appliances that I haven’t ordered yet.

In my defense, I’ve only had the link for a few days. And there are so many more models and styles than I expected. I’m not used to making so many choices in such a short period of time. It’s a lot.

The tote bag I used to bring my dinner into the bathroom slumps against the tub, taking on the shape of the bottle inside it. I shed my clothes and drop them in a heap next to the bag. With my hair twisted up in a plastic clip, I step into the bubbles.

My leg muscles sigh as I sit down. I lean back to let the hot water cover my shoulders for a few minutes before I sit up, take a sip of wine, eat a few bites of cheese, and open the link for the new appliances on my phone.

I’m checking this task off my list before I get out of this tub, I swear.

By the time my glass is empty, I’ve chosen the style, but the color choice is fucking with my head. White with an antique brass finish on the hardware has been a given all along. It’s classic, and that’s what I’m going for with this project.

But with one image, this website now has me questioning that choice. I stare at a photo of a kitchen that looks an awful lot like my remodel, minus the chandeliers . . . and I can’t deny that those creamy yellow appliances are making me weak.

I don’t know why I brought the whole bottle of wine into the bathroom, but since it’s right there, I may as well refill my glass. I’m definitely going to be here a while trying to make my final appliance decisions.

Yellow? Yellow is never my first-choice color for anything, and even on the rare occasion I like it, it’s always bright yellow, never this muted pastel shade. Why am I even considering this? It feels like an impulse—no, it feels like a compulsion, one that I need to overcome.

But those cabinets are very close in color to the silver sage on my new cabinets. And that island has a sealed natural finish, just like mine will. The kitchen in the picture has Carrera marble countertops throughout, and the gray veining looks so good with the pale yellow on those appliances. There’s no doubt that it would complement my island countertop and gray soapstone counters that will be on either side of the stove in my new kitchen.

Pale yellow and grays? I’d expect that to be dreary and depressing, but it’s the most soothing combination with all that natural light. My kitchen has a lot of natural light, too.

It's like a dreamscape. Like food cooked in that room would taste better because of the calm atmosphere. Like the perfect canvas for dazzling sunsets to cast sparkling prisms, soft rainbows stretching, erasing all the day’s worry and doubt as they fade with the waning light.

I’d hate it within a month.

But what if I’m wrong? I bookmark the page to come back to in the morning. Things tend to look different after I’ve slept. I’ll get Enzo’s opinion, too. He’s remodeled more kitchens than I have. Maybe all homeowners go through a moment of crisis and need to be talked down off a creamy yellow ledge.

Speak of the devil. He’s texting me.

Hey, I came by to talk to you about your bay window addition, but it looks like your lights are out. I don’t want to knock if you’re already in bed.