Full Figured 12

by La Jill Hunt

  “The doctor said you are to rest, Jose. You need to heal.” I heard his mother yelling in the background, and Josh and I began laughing.

  “Anyway, like I said, make sure they put the tarp down where they’re painting.” He continued giving additional instructions, and I made mental notes of everything he said, most of which he’d already gone over with me in previous conversations.

  “Okay, Caldwell, I got it,” I told him.

  “Josh, how’s it looking, man?” Caldwell asked.

  “I gotta admit, it’s looking great. I’m impressed.” Josh nodded at me, taking me by surprised.

  “Jose, get off the phone and lie down!” Caldwell’s mother yelled again.

  “I’ll check in with you later, Zen. Josh, holla back at me. Adios,” he said, and the call ended.

  “So, you came by to check up?” I asked, putting my phone in the back pocket of my paint-covered jeans. My shirt and sneakers were just as worn, because I had been doing a little of the painting myself.

  “Something like that.” He glanced down at my clothes. “I thought the painter said he had a crew. Why are you doing it?” he asked. “Where are they?”

  “He has two other guys who are about as old as he is, and you saw for yourself that he ain’t that young,” I said. “And don’t get me wrong; they are really good, but they’re a little slow, and I need for this to get done before those floors are installed day after tomorrow. So, I decided to help out a little.”

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Wow what?”

  “Nothing. You’re just really dedicated to this, that’s all.”

  “I told you I love this stuff. It’s my passion,” I told him. “Plus, believe it or not, painting is very therapeutic and helps me think.”

  He looked around the half-painted room and said, “Well, like I told Caldwell, I’m kinda impressed. It looks great.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You’re really trying to finish this in two days?” he asked.

  I leaned over and dipped the roller into the pan of paint, then ran it against the wall and said, “I’m gonna damn sure try.”

  * * *

  The following day, I got to the house early and was surprised to see Josh’s truck sitting out front. I let myself in and could hear music blasting from upstairs. As I got closer, I could hear him singing loudly.

  “You’re the biggest part of me. You’re the light that sets me free,” he belted.

  I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, staring. I didn’t know what was more shocking: the sight of him painting in a pair of coveralls and Timberland boots, his awkward dance moves, or the fact that the room was almost finished. As he continued singing and dancing, the laugh that I had been holding back escaped, and he jumped.

  “Shit, you scared me,” he said.

  “If you jump when someone enters a room, then you must be doing something you ain’t got no business doing. Aren’t you the one who told me that?” I asked.

  “True,” he said, hurrying to pick up his phone off the nearby ladder to turn off the music.

  “So, what are you doing here?” I asked. “Other than singing Seventies rock. What you know about Ambrosia?”

  “Oh, you got jokes, huh?” He laughed. “Unfortunately, I know a lot about them. My parents had their album and the cassette, so I was forced to listen at home and in the car. How do you know about them?”

  “Same, except my aunt used to play their album all the time. Them and the Bee Gees. I can probably name all their greatest hits.” I shrugged, “But you still didn’t answer my first question. What are you doing in here?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? Painting.”

  “I can see that, but why?” I asked, still confused.

  He put the paint roller down and said, “Honestly, I don’t know. When I left yesterday, I went to a meeting that didn’t go so well, and it left me in a really bad head space. I thought about what you said about painting being therapeutic, so I came back and decided to give it a try. You were right. This is hella therapeutic. It really helped me clear my head. So, this morning, I got up and came back.”

  “You must’ve stayed hella late and got here hella early, because you got a lot done,” I told him.

  “I’m an early riser anyway.”

  “Well, I’m glad it helped you clear your head,” I said, taking a sip of my tea and placing it on the window ledge, making sure there was tarp on the floor under it. I wasn’t going to chance Caldwell calling and noticing again. Normally, I would be drinking a skinny latte from Starbucks, but I was still making penance after my recent ice cream and doughnut binge days earlier.

  “It really did.” He smiled, and I noticed he had a deep dimple in his left cheek that I had never paid attention to—probably because he rarely smiled. He really was a nice-looking guy.

  I realized I was staring and quickly looked away before he noticed too. “Too bad you didn’t wear a pair of your old Timbs, because those are ruined,” I said.

  He looked down at his feet. “These are my old Timbs.”

  I went into the bathroom in the hallway, where we had stored the additional paint supplies, and grabbed another pan and roller. When I returned, Josh had turned the music back on. This time he had turned on the Bee Gees.

  “Really?” I asked as I poured paint into the pan and walked to the wall opposite the one he was working on.

  “It’s a playlist, I swear. That just happened to be the song that played next.”

  For the next four hours, we made small talk as we worked and listened to music. By the time the other painters arrived, we had finished the master bedroom and another room. We actually made a fairly good team. Josh’s long, muscular arms were perfect for painting long strokes, and my keen eye for detail worked great for the areas around the windows.

  As we worked, I kept pushing out the thought of Bailey’s insinuation that Josh might potentially be my new boo. Although he was a little friendlier, he didn’t give off any kind of vibe that he was remotely interested in me.

  Every now and then he got a phone call and stepped out of the room. Although I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping, I could tell that the first couple of calls were business related from his tone. Then, he got another call, and I knew that it was personal.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t home when you came through. I stepped out to get some air,” I heard him say, and I stepped closer to the doorway to hear. “Now, you know I would’ve been down for that had I known, boo. Most definitely. I need to get home and take a shower first. Oh, really? Give me an hour.”

  When he walked back in, I was moving so fast away from the door that I slipped on the tarp and fell on my butt, splashing paint into my hair. “Ugggghhhh.”

  “Oh, shit. Are you okay?” Josh rushed over to me.

  “I’m fine.”

  He reached down to help me onto my feet. “Is anything hurt?”

  I was too embarrassed to look at him, but I did take his hand. “Other than my pride?”

  When I got to my feet, our eyes met, and unable to hold it in, we both laughed uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face and his. He went to wipe his eyes and ended up smearing paint on his cheek, causing me to laugh even harder. When we composed ourselves, we stood staring and smiling at one another.

  “What?” I finally asked.

  “You got paint on your chin,” he said.

  “You’ve got paint on your chin.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay, but I think that’s a sign that it’s time for a break.”

  I thought about the phone call he’d just had and said, “I think you’re right.”

  “I can come back later,” he offered.

  “No, you’re good. I actually have to go to pick out the bathroom fixtures, so I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.” I started cleaning up my supplies.

  “Bathroom fixtures?”

  “Yeah, for the master bathroom. We’re redoing the entire thing and making it a little more modern,” I
said. “Sink, toilet, retiling the shower.”

  “Oh, okay. So, that has to be painted too?”

  “Yep.” I nodded. “But don’t worry. We got it.”

  “Are you kicking me out of therapy?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “Then I’ll be back.”

  I doubted his boo from the phone call, whoever she was, would let him come back over here anytime soon. “Well, I’m done for the day,” I said, trying to let him off the hook.

  He was having none of it. “Like you said, we got it.”

  * * *

  I tried as hard as I could not to think about Josh. Every time he would pop into my head, I reminded myself that he had a midday booty call.

  “Am I missing something?” Bailey asked after I told her about the events of the morning.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Who cares if he had a midday booty call? Hell, clearly there’s some chemistry there. What you should’ve done was planned on being his late-night snack.” She laughed.

  “Eww, that’s nasty.” I shook my head.

  “No, that’s real. Don’t act like you don’t want no dick, Zen. Unless you done got some and ain’t told me. Hell, you’re long overdue, sis, and Josh may be just what you need. I say go for it.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Welp, just so you know, I’ll be gone for three whole days next week. You got the crib to yourself just in case you wanna bring your work home with you,” she teased.

  “Trust me, I don’t.”

  * * *

  The next day, when I got to the house, I found Josh hard at work downstairs.

  “Good morning,” he greeted me.

  “Good morning. Uh, we were gonna finish upstairs before we started down here,” I told him.

  “It’s finished.”

  “What? The entire floor?”

  “Yeah, the guys stayed until around seven, and I left at around eleven and came back this morning at about six. I brought you a tea. It’s in the kitchen. Four Splenda and a splash of half and half, right?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said, stunned that he remembered my preferences. I’d told him when we had a debate over Starbucks coffee versus tea the day before.

  “All righty then, let’s get to work. Floors are being delivered in the morning, right? We got a lot to do and a short time to get it done,” he said. When I didn’t move, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I was tempted to remind him that a month ago he was totally against this entire project and felt that it was a waste of time, and now he was acting as if he were the lead contractor while Caldwell was out sick.

  * * *

  It was almost nine o’clock when we finally finished painting. Somehow, we had managed to get the entire house done. I was dog tired, but the excitement of being one step closer to finishing my first major project had me energized. I wasn’t by myself.

  “We really did it. We got it done,” Josh said, looking around the kitchen, the last room we had done.

  “We did.” I nodded, and we gave each other a high five.

  “We should go celebrate.”

  I looked down at my paint-covered clothes then pointed to his. “Where are we going like this?”

  “It doesn’t have to be anywhere fancy. We can go grab a drink somewhere nearby,” he suggested.

  “Aren’t you tired?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous about going somewhere with him. We had been working side by side for two days, but now I felt self-conscious.

  “Not really. Are you? You seemed kind of hype a minute ago, so I just figured . . .”

  “I was.”

  “Come on, one drink. We can go to Chubb’s. It’s right up the boulevard and not far from here.”

  “Chubb’s? That hole in the wall?” I asked, thinking about the run-down bar located in the middle of a strip mall, famous for its fish plates and shootouts.

  “My uncle owns that hole in the wall,” he told me with a slight smile on his face.

  “Oh, I mean, I’ve never been there personally, but I heard it’s got decent fish.” I tried to clean it up.

  “I’m just playing with you. Come on. I’ll drive.”

  We hopped into his truck and headed over to Chubb’s. It was a lot nicer on the inside than it was on the outside, and I wasn’t as terrified as I thought I would be when we walked in. We were immediately greeted by a short, stocky man who I instantly knew had to be Chubb.

  “Well, look who the cat done drug in,” he cackled.

  “What’s up, Unc?” Josh hugged him, barely able to get his long arms around the man’s large body.

  “I heard you had moved back, but I didn’t believe it. How you been, nephew?”

  “I’m good. This is my friend, Zen. Zen, this is Chubb.” Josh introduced us.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “The pleasure is all mine, young lady.” Chubb smiled. “Y’all been playing paintball?”

  “No, Unc, we’ve been painting painting.”

  “Really? Now, your daddy would be proud to hear that. You know how he liked doing stuff like that. He loved to build and fix things. Him and your brother,” Chubb told him.

  “Yeah,” Josh said, and I could sense a shift in his demeanor. “Well, we just popped in to grab a quick drink.”

  “Well, you know where the bar is. Vic!” he yelled to the bartender, “take care of these folks, and it’s on me. Give them whatever they want and make sure their fish is fresh.”

  “Oh, we’re not eating,” I said quickly.

  “What? Nonsense, young lady. You wouldn’t dare come into my place and disrespect me by not having one of my fish plates, would you?” Chubb asked me.

  I turned to Josh, who shrugged. “You heard him. We gotta get a plate.”

  We made our way to the bar and took a seat.

  “What you having?” Vic asked us.

  “I’ll have a glass of chardonnay,” I said.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Josh asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on. This is a celebration. We need a real drink. Give us two kamikazes, Vic.”

  “What? Oh, hell no,” I objected.

  “What? You can’t handle it?” Something about the way he said it made me wonder if he was talking about the drink. He smiled again, and his deep dimple caught my eye. “I mean, if it’s too much for you to handle, let me know.”

  “I can handle it,” I said, determined not to be intimidated.

  “Two kamikazes?” Vic asked.

  I stared at Josh and nodded.

  Two hours later, we were sitting at a table in the back, eating fish and comparing the miseries of our lives between shots.

  “So, your boss hit on you, and you got fired, and you find out your controlling fiancé had a baby by another chick?” Josh slurred as he leaned across the table toward me. “And so then you moved in with your best friend?”

  “You got it,” I said, feeling unusually giddy as I wobbled in my seat, trying to keep from falling over. “Your life cannot be as bad as mine right now, Mr. Former-NBA-player-who-lives-in-a-posh-condo.”

  “You think so?” He said, “Well, I was in the NBA and rode the bench for two years. I met this beautiful girl, who said she loved me, and we got married and moved to the city she grew up in. I took all of my money and invested into her lifelong dream of opening her own restaurant. And we opened it and it was a huge success. My life became all about her and her family. I pretty much forgot all about mine.”

  A look of sadness passed over his face. “And my dad called and told me my brother was sick, but did I care? Nope, because my wife and her fucking dreams were more important. Then my brother died, and then my dad, within six months of each other. And my wife was still bitching because according to her, I was distracted and not focused on our future. So, then guess what happened?”

  “What?” I asked, my eyes wide with anticipation.

  “She tells me she’s fallen in
love with someone else and she’s leaving me.” He slammed his hand on the table for emphasis.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I said, the alcohol loosening up my language. “That cheating bitch! I’m glad you left her ass.”

  “I didn’t leave her; she left me for her head chef—who is also her best friend since middle school,” he said.

  “No!” I gasped. “That bastard.”

  “Nope, nope, nope.” Josh shook his head at me. “Her best friend is a woman!”

  “Oh, shit!” I said. Then, I couldn’t help it; I started giggling, “Your life is just as fucked up as mine.”

  “I told you.” Josh laughed, picking up his shot glass and holding it up. “To us, the losers.”

  “The biggest losers.” I laughed and picked up my own glass to join the toast.

  “A’ight, you two, where are your keys?” Chubb came over and said, “It’s time to go.”

  “Don’t look at me. I ain’t drive,” I said to Josh.

  “Um, oh, here they are.” Josh held up his set of keys, “Tah-dah!”

  “I don’t think you should drive. You’re drunk.” I reached for the keys.

  “You’re drunk too,” he said, holding the keys away from me.

  Chubb took the keys and said, “You’re both drunk. Vic is gonna drive you home. Let’s go.”

  Chubb led both of us to the door, where Vic was waiting for us. He took the keys, and when he pulled to the front of the club, Josh helped me get into the back of his truck and then climbed beside me. The temperature had dropped, and I began shivering.

  “Are you cold?” Josh asked, putting his arm around me.

  “A little,” I said, and he pulled me closer to him. I enjoyed the feel of his body beside mine. I looked up at him and said, “I can’t believe that heifer cheated on you with her bestie.”

  He looked into my eyes and said, “I can’t believe that motherfucker cheated on you and had a baby by some random.”

  I smiled, and he leaned down and kissed me. It was a sloppy, drunk kiss, but it was still warm and tantalizing and left me wanting more.

  “Where to first?” Vic asked.

  Neither one of us answered. We were too busy exploring one another’s mouths to respond at first. He asked twice more, until finally, Josh gave him his home address.