nineteen
Even though I think my YouTube videos have taught me all that I need to know about tile work, Paul has been insistent in agreeing with Danny. I’m going to get long lessons with the tile cutter before I’m left alone with that beast. Not to mention that he’s not about to let me lay tile for the first time without making sure that I know what the hell I’m doing, lest I leave the bathroom in worse shape than it’s in now. Or cut off a finger.
Paul stares me down while the boys remove the toilet, sink, and washing machine and dryer. “Do you want to use a penetrating sealer or a membrane-forming sealer in a bathroom?”
“Penetrating.”
“You’re going to have thin grout lines. Do you want to seal with a sponge or an applicator brush?”
“A sponge,” I say assuredly.
“How long does it need to dry?”
“Twenty-four to forty-eight hours. It depends on the brand of sealant.”
After a long, formidable glare, he cracks a smile. “Well done, kiddo.”
His shocked face fills me with triumph even though I haven’t technically done much. Nonetheless, I tell him, “Ha! I told ya!”
Paul fires more questions at me, and is ultimately impressed with my responses to his impromptu quiz.
To which, he begrudgingly laughs. “Okay, fine. You’re overly prepared—I’ll give you that. Let’s give this a go.”
“The wallpaper for the bathroom? The toilet and sink that I ordered? The new washer and dryer? Those are up to you guys though.” It’s shocking how much time I spent browsing bathroom stuff—not to mention, how much of my own money I spent—but I think I picked out nice things. I’ll have to make sure that Paul charges me though and not my mother.
“That’s how I make my money, kiddo.” Paul winks. “But let’s get started on this shit you busted up. Bathroom first, fireplace another day.”
He spends part of the day showing me how to properly demo the bathroom.Rage removalis evidently not the way to go. My hands are raw and aching when Paul finally lets me stop killing the rest of the tile and brick. It’s taken me hours, but he’s finally declared that the bathroom is done.Donemeaning ready for new facing. He wants heavy plywood flooring in the bathroom and some other kind of resurfacing over the fireplace before I can try my hand at tiling.
It’s okay that I’m hurting all over right now because I am more than happy. I’m euphoric.
The only downside is that I’ve missed seeing the boys on the roof today. The hot, muscly boys on the roof. The noise from their relentless construction cut through the music I was blasting over my headphones and through the sound of every tile I broke, so it was hard not to imagine what was going on up there.
What they might look like.
What Danny might look like.
I’m limping to the kitchen in need of a vat of water before I take a shower when Danny catches me off guard as he walks through the front door. Shirtless, sweating, tan.
“Oh, sorry. Hi.” He brushes a hand through his thick auburn hair. “I was hoping to grab a shower, if you don’t mind. I mean, if you still want to hit up Mary Ann’s farm today.”
I notice the change of clothes he’s holding. “No problem. Of course. I was going to do the same.” Somehow, I get myself into the kitchen and focus on filling my tumbler with icy water. I need to cool down—in more ways than one.
“Okay.” There’s a long pause. “You all right?”
“Perfect. Shower away. I’ll go next.” My tumbler is overflowing with water, but I don’t move.
“Thanks, Callie.”
I can’t help but tremble when he leaves.
Fuck. I need to get myself under control.
He’s a family friend. A childhood friend. That’s it.
But I also need to get laid because it’s been a million years.
I stomp to my bedroom and get into my robe. And think. Anything with Danny would never be solely about getting laid. It would be about so much more with him. At least for me.
