by S. K. Lessly
At any rate, the promises of change sounded good or maybe too good. But I wasn’t going to mess up this chance to see this through. I owed both of us at least that much.
Yeah, yeah. I know…
I guess I truly was a boy scout.
Lauren
Spring came in with a bang, and I wasn’t referring to the huge snow storm that had dropped a foot of snow on us at the end of March. The renovations I wanted done had officially started, but the best part was up next, the demolition of my kitchen.
Sebastian had officially hired Paul and given him a down payment to get started. He had a lot to make up for with postponing our Miami trip and for being out of town during Valentine’s Day.
The first order of business was updating the living and dining room floors. As Paul began removing the carpet, he uncovered solid, dark wood flooring underneath it, which was in great condition. I guessed the past owners didn’t have the heart to mess with the existing flooring. That worked out great for me. Paul had informed me he could salvage the flooring and save us a great deal of money. He also told me he had someone in mind to do the floor work and one day, while I was at work, the guy came over to strip and stain my wood floors.
After the hardwood floors were revitalized, he covered the floor with tarp to protect it and started the process of upgrading my kitchen. Again, my goal was to open the kitchen up by removing the wall separating it from the dining room. I wanted to create a little breakfast bar there instead, which could double as a small island. With the island in place, it would open the kitchen up to the rest of the house. Paul had told me he could do the changes I wanted, but there was a cost.
“You need to get another refrigerator.”
“Why?” I pouted.
He laughed at me. “Well, the thing is a monstrosity. It’s too big for your space.”
He was right. The refrigerator was too big for my kitchen. I knew that when I bought it, but I didn’t care. I loved my smart refrigerator. It produced the right size ice cubes, which was essential. And when I was out shopping, I had an application on my phone that enabled me to see inside my fridge. I could tell what I was out of without having to guess or call Sebastian. How awesome is that? But again, “Mr. Fridge Hater” did have a point.
Paul, seeing that I had been battling with getting rid of my fridge, put his arm around me and said, “I’m sure we can find another one that’s equally nice.”
“You promise?” I looked up into his eyes, fighting back the sadness.
He laughed again. “I promise.”
After I gave my word to give up my baby, Paul began pulling the appliances out of the kitchen in order to make room when he started removing the cabinets and counters. As I watched him, I decided if I had to replace my favorite appliance, I needed to replace them all. Sebastian wasn’t a fan of the idea, of course. However, when he found out we had saved on installing hardwood floors, he relented. It was also a done deal when Paul told us we could donate our old appliances to a foundation his friend had started. They helped single mothers and victims of domestic violence start over or find safe places to live, furnishing for their new places, and appliances. That information made the decision to donate very easy.
What I had enjoyed most about demolishing the kitchen had been getting into the action. One day, Paul had messed around and handed me a sledge hammer. Why did he do that? Boy, I tell you I had a ball. Smashing everything felt good too. I hadn’t realized how much pent-up aggression I had until I started tearing my kitchen apart, which led to me being banned from touching the thing. It wasn’t my fault, honest. Okay, all I did was take the hammer, run upstairs, and came within two seconds from smashing the hell out of Sebastian’s computer before Paul snatched the thing from my grasp.
That wasn’t worth being banned, right?
Anyway, once the kitchen had been cleared out, Paul worked on widening the back door that led onto the patio and installing a sliding glass door. Installing the glass door was a two-man job. Therefore, he called in one of his fellow firemen friends, Lyle something, to help him install the glass door.
Lyle was a cool dude. He was slightly talker than Paul and bulkier with muscles everywhere. He had short, spiked, blonde hair with light blue eyes. When I first met him, he and I hit it off instantly.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Lyle,” I said pushing out my right hand to him for a shake.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied, smiling brightly down at me. Lyle took my hand in his and purposefully held onto it a little longer then he should have. He then began to rub my hand with his thumb, which caused me to break out in a fit of giggles.
Paul smacked Lyle upside his head. “The woman is married, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” he told Paul, but never removed his eyes off mine. My smile broadened and I batted my eyes at Lyle.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you two…” Paul moved Lyle’s hand from mine and turned him to face the recently removed back door.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were getting jealous,” Lyle replied.
“Well, good thing you know better,” Paul shot back. “Now, let’s get to work.”
I watched with fascination as both men worked to lengthen my existing door. Next, they supported the doorway with a border made with 4x4’s in order to install my sliding glass door. After the successful installation, the two men began removing the laminate flooring in preparation for the cream travertine tiles I had picked out.
I wanted to go dark wood for my cabinets so I had to go light on the floors, walls, and counters. Paul had found me refurbished granite countertops, which had saved on the price of the remodel too. Did I say how amazing this man was?
Just watching my vision start to come to life had me all giddy inside. Everything had been coming together. Now, all I needed was for my husband to stop holding out on me and my life would be complete.
One Friday evening, about a month and some change into the renovations started, I walked inside my house with a huge smile on my face. The kitchen was almost complete. Walls had been painted and cabinets had been installed. The last large project Paul had to finish was the floor. Once that was completed, he would install the granite countertops, the new sink, and appliances I’d bought. I stepped inside the house and found him working on the floors in the kitchen.
Paul was on his hands and knees in the kitchen on the subfloor. I turned down his country music and greeted him with a hello. He smiled at me in response and I asked, “Where’s Sebastian?”
“He left. What’s up?”
I showed him the bottle of wine I had in my hand. “I have some good news and I wanted to share it with him, but I can’t wait for him. I got the job!”
Paul looked at me puzzled at first and then he started smiling. “Really? Congratulations!”
He stood, walked out of the kitchen, and enveloped me in a huge hug. I accepted his hug graciously before pulling back, a wide smile on my face.
Over the few months he’d been working on my house, our friendship had blossomed into something I leaned on every day. I wasn’t going to lie and say that my fantasies about this man had gone away, but I would never, ever act on anything. Paul and I weren’t anything but good friends and I knew the feeling was mutual.
“You want to celebrate with me?” I asked, shaking the bottle at him.
“You don’t even have to ask,” he replied, turned, and went to grab two plastic cups from the pantry.
I had packed away all of my plates, glasses, cups, and utensils during the remodeling. We’d been using paper plates, plastic flatware, and eating out most nights, which was driving Sebastian crazy.
Paul opened the wine for me and poured a large amount into our red Solo cups. He handed me one. I smiled and raised it.
“Let’s toast to new beginnings.”
He nodded his head, smiling back at me and lifted his cup. “Perfect.”
We touched cups before I took a sip and hummed my approval. It was a gre
at choice. Paul brought his cup to his lips and took a huge sip too, except he frowned and put his cup down. I started to ask if he liked the wine, but he distracted me.
“So, tell me about the new job at Montclair?”
“Well, after my first initial interview, I received a call about a week later for two additional interviews. Both interviews were with higher ups within the administration. Today, your friend Steve called me and told me I’d been hired for the fall. He also asked me if I wanted to teach a few classes this summer just to get my feet wet. Of course, I jumped on the idea.” I immediately stopped talking when I noticed Paul was smiling rather big.
“What?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never seen you so excited!”
“I know, right!”
Paul grabbed one of the new stools I’d purchased for the island and sat down next to me. “Carry on.”
I looked at him skeptically. “Really?”
“Yes, Lauren.”
I shrugged and grabbed the other stool and animatedly told him all about my conversation with Steve.
When I was done, Paul asked, “Is the pay good?”
“Pretty good, comparable to what I was making with Drexel. The summer will be my trial period.”
“Well, I’m really happy for you.”
Just then, I heard the front door open and Sebastian walk inside. He looked tired and distracted. I thought about leaving him be, but I quickly decided against it. This was great news and I wanted to share it with him. I rose from my seat, still smiling, and went to greet him.
“Hey, I have some great news,” I told him after I kissed him.
“Yeah, what’s that?” He looked at me wearily.
“I got the job!” I smiled broadly.
He frowned. “What job, Lauren?”
“Sebastian…” I put my hand on my hip. “The teaching job at Montclair State. The one I interviewed for, remember?”
Sebastian looked at Paul and then back at me and smiled. “Oh yeah, I remember. So, you got it, huh? Congrats, babe.”
“Yeah, so, put your stuff down and I’ll grab you a cup so you can celebrate with me.” I held up the bottle of wine to bring home the point.
“Oh, sweetheart, I would love to really, but I have so much work to do. I promise we can celebrate tomorrow, okay?” He then looked over at Paul. “I’m sure Paul wouldn’t mind hearing all about it. Right, Paul?”
“Of course,” Paul returned without hesitation.
I didn’t turn around to face Paul as Sebastian kissed my cheek and headed upstairs. I was used to rejection from my husband, but usually, it didn’t happen in front an audience. Sebastian, as always, was so wrapped up in his own life that he hadn’t noticed mine. I sighed and just stood there until I heard Paul clear his throat.
“So, I’m about to get started on the floor. You wanna help?”
I finally turned around and plastered a heavy smile on my face. I shook my head. “Nah, I’m not good at stuff like that.”
“Ah, come on. I’ll make sure you don’t mess it up. You can do it.”
I still frowned. It was sweet what he was trying to do and I appreciated him for it, but I just didn’t have it in me.
When I didn’t move, Paul walked up close to me. He took the wine bottle from my hand, tipped my chin up until my eyes were on his, and said, “Why don’t you go upstairs and change your clothes. Then come down and help me with the floor.”
I stared into this man’s eyes, my heart feeling as if it was about to crumble into tiny pieces. I felt embarrassed and foolish and I wanted nothing more but to send Paul away and crawl under a rock. The words were close to spilling from my lips and yet the look in his eyes made me pause. In that moment, all I wanted him to do was wrap me in his arms and take the pain in my chest away. However, I knew that would never happen. So, instead, he was offering the next best thing.
“Do as I say, woman and stop being stubborn. We have work to do.”
Paul smiled reassuringly. I took a deep breath and tried to return the gesture. It looked more like a grimace than a smile, but it worked. Paul stepped back and I exhaled audibly, shook the melancholy mode off me, and left to change my clothes.
When I came back downstairs five minutes later, Paul had started without me. He motioned for me to come over next to him in the center of the floor and handed me some knee pads.
“Okay, watch me.”
We started at the far side of the kitchen, facing the sliding glass door. I watched him scoop up some dark grey stuff he called mortar from a bucket onto the subfloor. He then spread some of the mortar along the floor, in a small area, thinning it out a bit. He then placed the tile down and lightly tapped the tile with a mallet. “See? Now, you try it. Just lay the tile down. That’s it. Now, lightly tap. Not too hard… That’s it. There. Now, we’ll put these space placers here between the two tiles. Now, there you’re laying tile. Come on let’s do some more.”
I followed Paul’s direction and we laid tile from one end of the floor to the other. He periodically used the leveler to make sure the tiles were leveled as we worked. He had some design going with the tile that as we worked our way from the wall, I thought was pretty neat. Eventually, I got out of the way and watched him complete the entire floor. When he was done, I smiled down at him.
“This looks great, Paul. I love the color of the tile against the dark wood cabinets.”
Paul stood next to me and looked around the room, admiring his handiwork. “Well, thank you for helping me. Make sure you don’t walk on this floor. Actually, I should have told you that before we started. No matter. I think you can survive a day. I’ll be back tomorrow to finish up,” he promised before he went to gather his things. Before he left, I tapped his arm and I gave him another hug and kissed his cheek.
He looked at me stunned. Hell, even I was stunned at my own actions.
He gently pressed his fingers against his cheek and looked down at me. “What was that for?”
I shrugged, desperately trying to downplay my actions. However, deep down my heart was beating erratically against my chest.
“Thanks for today. I really appreciate it.”
Paul didn’t say anything else to ruin the moment or make it any weirder. Thankfully, he simply nodded once and then walked out of my house.
The renovations continued without incident. He didn’t have much left to complete, but his work schedule picked up and he had to change the completion date of the project. I didn’t mind. As the kitchen transformed, ironically, so did my relationship with Paul. He and I seemed to get closer as the days and weeks went by. Most nights, as he worked, we talked about everything under the sun.
He told me stories about his childhood, his job, and his days playing college football. I told him stories about me being horrible in school and to my parents, which seemed to intrigue him so I kept the stories flowing. We laughed and joked and made fun of each other all the time. And somehow, through all of that, I started to care for him. Just as friends, of course, nothing more.
Yeah, okay, I was full of shit.
I was playing with fire. I was not getting pleased by my husband so I was crushing on the first guy who showed me some attention. Paul was married; happily, I might add, despite the fact that they were seeking counseling. They were working on making their relationship stronger and better so these feelings I had were ridiculous. I tried not to look at him in any way but as a friend. However, when night fell and I was lying in my bed alone, it was his face I saw in my dreams and his name that fell from my lips when I pleasured myself.
But I mean, this was normal behavior, right?
I shouldn’t be ashamed that I thought about my neighbor in the nude. It was harmless, just like if I was pining after my favorite actor. I may like them or have dirty sexual fantasies about them, but that didn’t mean I was cheating. Was I needy, desperate, and horny? Hell yes, but my dreams were innocent. Same thing here. My neighbor was hot, sexy as hell, a
hero, and an all-around nice guy. He would be the star of any woman’s fantasy, right?
Oh, who was I kidding? This is all kinds of fucked up.
12
Lauren
The end of May rolled around and yet again we, meaning the ten-live-crew, that’s what I called our group, found ourselves roped up into another vacation planned by Sebastian. How did that happen you ask? Well, the trip had started out as aromatic getaway for two. However, one day, during one of our weekend house parties, Sebastian brought up the trip he and I were going to take and invited everyone to join us.
I was pissed as fuck, livid when he made the announcement. This trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, was supposed to be just for the two of us, but he had sabotaged our alone time again. My thing was, if he didn’t want to spend time with me, why had he suggested the trip?
Much to my dismay and despite my efforts, nothing had changed between us since the Poconos trip. He hadn’t sought counseling for his problems, and believe me, I had asked. He still worked crazy hours and traveled a lot for business. We hadn’t been out together in a very long time. And our sex life had been lost in translation or just fucking lost.
That was why I wanted to get him alone. I had hoped we could use this trip to rekindle something between us, but when he asked everyone to come with us, my hopes shattered.
Tonya, my new BFF, didn’t see how inviting everyone would ruin the trip for us. She believed the exact opposite would happen.
“Lauren, you’re looking at this trip all wrong,” she had told me one day when we had met up for lunch before the trip. “Think of it like this. Everyone will be hugged up and loving on each other. It will be a romantic setting and he will have no choice but to follow suit. Plus, there was no rule that said we had to spend every waking moment together. You two can dip off, walk along the beach, go to dinner or stay in your room and make the hotel shake. The sky’s the limit.”
I had smiled and agreed with Tonya, but deep down, I wasn’t holding my breath. It would take a miracle for Sebastian and I to bridge the gap between us. It was getting larger and larger and I was afraid if we didn’t do anything about it, we’d fall in.