by Jamie Mackay
***
Tatum had made arrangements for the floor refinishers to come at one o'clock that afternoon. It was after ten already when she made her way upstairs from her morning coffee with Milligan. She knew she had a lot of work to do before they would even be able to find the floor.
Without showering, she got right to work. She organized the boxes she hadn't yet unpacked into the correct space. Then she pushed all of her new furniture together against the wall so that it would be out of the way. She found her limited tool selection and hung her few wall ornaments and pictures on the wall.
Satisfied that she had hung her decorations straight, almost; she moved into the kitchen and started tackling some of the yet to be unpacked crates that remained on the floor.
.
Right on time Tatum's buzzer rang with a request to allow the crew from Home Hardware access to her apartment. She buzzed them in and opened the door so that they could let themselves in. Tatum continued to work at unpacking the kitchen until she heard them step into her living room.
"Well hellllo," said a small Italian looking man who was not shy about his appreciation for Tatum's appearance. "I assume you're Miss O'Neill? That's the name we have on the work req."
"That's right," said Tatum, "I'm the one with the beaten up floors." Tatum answered in a slightly condescending tone; she would not let a cocky construction worker get the best of her.
"Well, I'm certainly glad to meet you. We'll get started right away. We've got a full crew today, so this should only take us a day or two. We hope to be done the sanding today so that we can do the re-surfacing tomorrow."
A teenage boy carried in a large machine with a big rounded sander on the bottom. Even though he seemed mature for his age, Tatum could tell he was a teenager because she could clearly see his underwear above his pants. She smiled at this reminder of home.
A second teenager, also with his underwear hanging out, followed him in with a smaller sander that Tatum presumed was for doing the tighter spots.
"Okay, I guess the spot that needs doing is self-explanatory, so I think I'll head back to unpacking," she explained to the workmen as she left the room.
She could feel six sets of eyes watching, as her yoga-pant covered bottom shimmied into the next room.
.
Tatum finished in the kitchen and was intending to head towards the bedroom when she heard a fourth voice in the next room. Entering the living room she saw the yappy Italian directing the two teenage boys as they sanded, and then she noticed another tall man standing with his back to her as he evaluated the job so far.
"Miss O'Neill", the Italian called, "Come meet Jake. He's the final piece of our crew puzzle."
Jake? Tatum thought to herself. Where do I know that name from?
She quickly realized that this was the same Jake that she had run over in the grocery store earlier that same week. All of a sudden Tatum was very much aware that she had no makeup, her hair was sweaty and falling out of her ponytail, and she was pretty certain that she had obvious wet spots under her arms.
It took Jake just a moment and then recognition clearly came over his face.
"Jake, meet Miss O'Neill. Miss O'Neill, meet Jake."
"Ah... we've met," said Jake without any further explanation.
"You got to meet this little treat before me? You sly dog, you!" said the crew man that Tatum had finally determined was named Vinnie.
"Yah, I tried to run him down in the Co-op," said Tatum with a grin.
She thought Jake was holding her glance just a little too long, and she liked it.