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I help carrythe dishes to the sink, and Jess fills it with soapy water. The repairs I made to the faucet the other day have held, but the plumbing will need to be updated when we redo the kitchen.
I grab a tea towel. “What are you thinking of changing in here?”
She washes a plate, hands it to me, and looks at the small room. A whiff of her sweet strawberry scent catches me off guard, and I have a sudden need to adjust myself.
She walks to the fridge, which is not quite bordering on being an antique, but it’s still several decades old. The rest of the kitchen resembles something from the 1970s, with its avocado-green cabinetry and green floral wallpaper.
“Everything?” She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “It just looks so old and sad.”
“So new cabinets, counters, and appliances?”
“Yes to all of that. And that wall.” She points to the one in question that separates the kitchen from the living room. “Would it be possible to knock it down? I’d love to open up the two rooms, so the house feels more spacious.”
“Assuming the wall isn’t supporting the house, yes, it would be feasible. But you’d be sacrificing cabinet space if you did that.” Other than that, it’s not a bad idea. “We can always select cabinets that maximize storage space and compensate for the loss of those.” I nod at the cabinets on the wall she wishes to demolish. “Which is what I recommend anyway for this kitchen. That way you won’t have dead storage space you can’t easily access. I can show you what I mean once we’ve gone through the house.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
We finish washing the dishes.
“Do you want a dishwasher?” I ask. There’s not really much room for one.
“It’s not a big deal. I like washing dishes. It’s oddly relaxing. And I’d rather not give up what little storage space I have for a dishwasher. Otherwise, I’ll end up using it for storage instead of for washing dishes.”
“Got it.” I open a cabinet door. There isn’t much inside. Only a few boxes of food since there’s only so much she can fit in the basket on her bike.
I inspect the labels on the two cereal boxes, and a huge-ass grin spreads across my face. “I take it you like sugary cereals?”
Her shoulders lift with a tiny jerk, and she seems to almost curl in on herself, as if ashamed. I silently curse whatever caused that reaction. She has nothing to be ashamed of.
“I swear my mother thinks she failed me because I still prefer sugary cereals over the healthy crap she thinks I should be eating,” I say with a self-deprecating chuckle.
Jess’s eyes brighten, and her mouth twitches into a wide smile. “My grandmother loved her sugary cereals. She said that there were very few real pleasures in life, and that was one she was never gonna give up.”
“Your grandmother was a wise woman.”
Jess laughs, the sound as sweet as the cereal she loves. “She was.”
I put the boxes back in the cabinet. “Why don’t you show me around the house again and tell me what you’re thinking of doing with the place. We’ll take measurements and talk options. Like I said on Saturday, it will probably take us several days of planning before we’re good to go.”
She dries her hands on a tea towel hanging on the oven door. “Okay. Where do you want to start with the tour?”
“How about upstairs? Then we can work our way down.”
We walk upstairs and into the tiny bathroom. “I think we can do a lot better than this,” I tell her.
The bathroom isn’t any different than I remember from the few times I saw it when I visited Iris’s house as a kid. It’s mostly a sink, toilet, and bathtub. Iris added a tall shelving unit in the corner for storage, and the small round mirror has tarnished with time.
“We can replace everything and add a sink with a counter and storage,” I say, mentally visualizing the possibilities. “And add some more shelves for storage and decoration. Make the room as functional and appealing as possible.”
Jess nods, seeming to take in everything I tell her. “That sounds like a good idea. This room and the powder room downstairs are the only bathrooms in the house, so I want them both to look nice.”
I open up my notepad and sketch the room, noting the location of the sink, toilet, bathtub, door, and the window. I pull out my laser tape measure and with Jess’s help, we measure the space. I can do this on my own, and with any other homeowner, I would’ve asked them to step out of the bathroom.
There isn’t a lot of room for two people in here at the same time. But hell if I’m asking Jess to leave when the enclosed space gives me an excuse to be closer to her.
My arm accidentally, not so accidentally, brushes hers. She stiffens for a microsecond but doesn’t jerk away. If anything, she seems to linger, leaning in a fraction.
The warmth from her body stokes mine, and I take a moment to inhale her scent again.
