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I look down at Sebastian, who’s been a quiet shadow at my side for the last ten minutes. “Do you think it’s time to redecorate this place?”
Sebastian doesn’t answer, of course. He rubs up against my legs, then leaps onto a nearby chair and yawns.
I’ve been collecting things for weeks, but other than the corkboard, I haven’t even begun redecorating. I think through the items I’ve collected—artwork from Jack, old photos of celebrities, framed jerseys, memorabilia from various Irish brands. I should have enough, right? When I close my eyes and imagine the Local, I don’t see it like it is in this moment—empty, dark, sparse. I see the image I had in my head the night I met Jack. In it, every table is occupied. There is laughter and conversation. Music fills the room. Some people stand around the musicians, swaying to the music or singing along. Otherswander quietly around the perimeter of the room, taking in all the little details. Everywhere you look, there’s something to catch your eye, something worth seeing.
Tomorrow night, I’ll have the music. I’m not sure if I’ll have the people. That’s out of my control.
I think again of how Jack surprised me with Jenga for the pub, and I want to surprise him back. I want him to walk in tomorrow and be blown away, to finally see this place the way I see it.
Energized, I set the coaster down and head to the closet where I’ve been keeping the artwork we’ve collected in tubs. I haul the tubs out to the main room. Some are so heavy that I have to drag them through the kitchen and behind the bar. Once I have all the tubs in front of me, I connect my phone to the speakers. It’s past midnight, but the music and excitement have me so energized that I don’t feel tired in the least.
I push the tables aside, clearing space in the center of the room where I can lay out everything we’ve collected and see it all at once. I take down all the dreadful photos hanging on the wall and sort through the new stuff, placing things in piles in front of the wall I think they should go on. I realize I’ve forgotten a hammer and nails and ladder. It takes me half an hour to find the hammer and nails. I have no idea where the ladder is, so I decide to use a chair stacked on top of a table in place of a ladder for the places I can’t reach.
It isn’t until I’m halfway through the second wall that I realize I’ve majorly fucked up. I’ve been using the frames from the old photos for Jack’s artwork, replacing them as I go along. The first wall looks as wonderful as I’d hoped. But I only eyeballed the measurements for the frames. I was sure I had enough frames in the right sizes for Jack’s art, but as it turns out, I’ve got a grand total of five.
“This is... not good,” I say, surveying the mess I’ve made. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” I add to Sebastian, who stares at me with what I imagine to be a smug expression.
“It’s all right. I can figure this out,” I say, but my panic only increases. It’s three in the morning, and this is taking much longer than I expected, and I’m starting to realize I can’t finish what I’ve started. I think through my options. I suppose I could abandon the art idea and hang up everything else. But I’d have to figure out what to put in it. I could leave everything as it is now, but the pub looks a bit ridiculous with one and a half walls decorated.
The energy I felt when I began has faded, and I realize I’m exhausted. I’m so tired, I feel delirious. Suddenly, I’m on the verge of tears, unsure I can take a single step, let alone spend the next few hours figuring out what to do about this mess.
I can’t do it anymore. I need to sleep. Just an hour or two, and then I can come down here and figure out what to do before Ollie comes to open the pub.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell Sebastian. He doesn’t look concerned about it. He yawns, which makes me yawn, and I take it as a sign that sleep is a good idea.
“Come on, you lazy cat.”
Sebastian follows me up to the flat. I set an alarm for five a.m. and fling myself onto the couch, too tired to make it to the bed.
I’m woken up by sunlight. It streams in through the windows, practically blinding me. For a moment, I have no idea where I am. But as soon as I realize I’m on the couch, I rememberwhyI’m on the couch and bolt upright. I fumble for my phone, but it’s dead of course. The clock on the stove in the kitchen informs me it is nine a.m.
After a moment in which I am frozen in panic, I spring into action. I’m still wearing the same outfit I had on last night, but I don’t care. I only pause to grab my key before I race downstairs, startling Ollie when I appear beside him just as he’s unlocking the pub.
“For feck’s sake, you nearly gave me a heart attack, Raine,” he says, and turns the key in the lock. Ollie arches a brow at me. “What’s gotten into you? You look like you’ve been through hell and back.”
“About that.”
He shakes his head. “About what?”
“About being through hell and back. It might look a little... hellish in there.” I nod to the door.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a mess.”
Ollie narrows his eyes. “What kind of mess are we talking about?” He glances at the door as if he might be able to see through it into the pub.
“Just know that I have it under control. The pub doesn’t open for awhile yet, right? And really, not many people come in right when it opens, so it’ll give me time to clean up.”
“Cleanwhatup, Raine?”
“The mess.”
“What— Oh, just fecking forget it.” He shakes his head, and I brace myself as he opens the door.
I step inside behind Ollie, tense as he scans the pub.
“Raine,” he says, not even bothering to turn and look at me. “What the hell happened here?”
