“Thanks, Mom,” El replied. “Maybe after we’re done painting, we could do that dinner we talked about? We could probably get Theo to come over and cook for us.” She laughed, and it was only a little strained.
“Hey, hey.” I gave a pointed look between the two women. “I can cook, too, you know.”
Ellie raised a playful brow while Susan’s lips curved into a bigger smile.
“Dinner sounds nice,” she said. “I’ll let y’all fight over who gets to cook. I’ll bring pie.”
“Susan.” I put a hand to my chest. “You know I love pie.”
“I do.” She pointed a finger as she began walking back to the house. “Cherry, right?”
“You bet!” I called, and then I slipped my hand into Eleanor’s once her mom’s back was turned, and I led her home.
We decided to paint the living room yellow first.
It was the room we’d been spending the most time in, so even though it meant we had to temporarily relocate theMillennium Falconwhile we covered the floor in paint cloths, it seemed like the best starting point. It also gave me an excuse to strip the weird wallpaper border that circled the room and rip down the horrendous curtains, which let a lot of light back into the house.
It had taken two additional trips to Bud’s over a handful of days to find the right color, but one titledButtermilkended up being the winner. It was a soft yellow that had enough boldness to still feel invigorating.
Nothing made me feel more alive, though, than the sight of Ellie bouncing down the stairs after she finished work for the day, wearing a pair of overall shorts with a white tank top underneath. Her bare feet padded on the hardwood floor while strands of hair fell from her half-up sloppy bun, and my brain tumbled through flashbacks of summers.
“Are you okay if those get paint on them?” I asked after I got a hold of myself, pointing to her outfit.
“Oh, yeah.” Her enthusiastic grin nearly blew me away as she patted her overalls. She’d seemed perkier the last couple of days. Her mom had surprised us, dropping an old step stool on the porch one morning before she headed into work, and Ellie hadspent a long time staring at it. She’d even smiled some more. “These are old.”
I knew they were old. I’d seen her wear them a million times. I wanted her tokeepwearing them.
But all I said was, “Okay, just checking.”
“Are you afraid that I was going to sit back and let you do all the work?”
Her gentle laugh made my lips twitch.
“No, Eleanor. I couldn’t be less worried about that.” I watched her cross the room to pick up a paintbrush. “You could just sit there and look pretty, and I’d be more than okay with that.”
It had been over two weeks since the miscarriage, so beyond the time that the doctor had told her to rest and restrict her activity, but still. When Ellie got into a project, she sometimes didn’t know how to stop working on it. Honestly, I was surprised she was willing to ration her time spent on theMillennium Falconto help me with this. Maybe she was justthatsick of the decor in here. I couldn’t blame her for that.
Ellie rolled her eyes at me and then used her paintbrush as a pointer stick to gesture toward the ceiling. “Do you want to do the trim? Or roll the walls?”
I shot her a look. “No offense, El, but logistically, I’m not sure how that’s a question.”
She frowned and planted her hands on her hips. “What do you mean?”
“How exactly do you plan to reach the trim up there?”
“Ummm, easily,” she rebuffed, clicking her tongue. “With a very tall chair.”
Pursing my lips, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know. That sounds like an OSHA violation.”
“Oh, is this apayingjob now?”
“It could be. I’d be more than happy to discuss an hourly wage. How does…a few hundred dollars an hour sound?”
Maybe it would cover the costs she’d incurred to move back here. Her medical bills. The cost of the Lovenox that sat unused.
“Oh my God,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Keep your money, Sawyer.”
“Fine.” Closing the space between us, I plucked the angled brush from her hands. “But you’re not standing on a chair.”
