A jolt ran through her body from belly button to crotch.  “Hi,” she said with great casualness.
     “Hello.  How are you doing?”
     “Fine.”  She drew out the vowel sound so that it didn’t sound like just one word.  Rapidly, she was thinking does he mean something more by that?  Is he asking whether I have any symptoms?  But of what?  HIV?  Pregnancy?  Maybe both.  It’s possible.
     “You’re looking good.  All dressed up.  Is this a bad time to drop by?  Are you on your way somewhere?”
     ”Nah.  Just got home.  Letting Noodle out.”
     “Hey, Noodle boy.”  Rick crouched down and played with Noodle’s ears.  Noodle put both front paws on Rick’s knee and tried to bite his arm.  “You’re a tough guy, are you?  I bet.”  He gave a little tug on Noodle’s tail and the puppy spun around to investigate.  Rick chuckled.
     “I’ve got something for you,” he said standing up and going to the back of the truck.  Katherine followed, feeling slightly dizzy.  Rick lowered the tail gate and pulled at a stained tarp.  A dark wooden box was underneath.
     “What’s that?”  Katherine turned to look at Rick.  He was disturbingly close to her, looking at her and smiling.  He dragged his eyes away and looked at the box, saying “Your blanket box.”
     “What do you mean?”  She felt heavy and stupid.
     Rick laughed and leaned his forehead against hers for a brief moment, saying “That’s the blanket box I refinished for you.”
     Katherine forced herself to stop staring at his lips and to concentrate.  “The box from the stable?”
     “That’s the one.”
     “That piece of junk is not this.”
     “The same.”
     “But it’s beautiful,” she said softly, looking at it.
     “Isn’t it?  I told you it would turn out nicely.”  Rick hopped onto the truck bed and smoothed his hands over the box.  “How do you like the finish?  Is the colour all right?”
     “It’s great.  You’re not telling me that that was that horrible garbage in my barn.”
     “Yes.  I told you it was in good condition and would refinish beautifully.  I was hoping it would, and it did.”  He carefully lifted one end of the box to the end of the truck, then moved the other end forward.
     “Can I help?”
     “Can you carry one end?”  Rick hopped down beside her and cautiously placed the end of the box in her hands.  “Can you hold that?”
     “Sure,” she said, marvelling at the smooth, dark finish.
     “Tell me if you can’t carry it.  I don’t want us to drop it.”  Rick picked up the other end and walked backwards to the side door.  After carefully navigating the steps to get inside, he stopped.  “You want it in your bedroom?  That’s where it belongs.”
     “Okay.”
     “Going upstairs you’ll have to go backwards, because I’ll be carrying the weight.  So just guide me.”       They turned around and Katherine backed slowly up the steps, trying to take as much weight as possible, feeling incompetent in her work clothes.  Beneath her, Rick’s arms gripped the box and the top of his brown hair showed as he climbed.  She felt a flood of compassion for him, for his labour.  It seemed so male.
     At the top of the stairs she backed into her bedroom, Rick rapidly glancing at both sides of the door jamb, calculating the space.  They squeezed through and brought the box to the foot of her brass bed.
     “Perfect,” he said.  “Looks good, don’t you think?”
     “It’s amazing.  I still can’t believe it.”
     “And look.  You can sit on it, too.”  He reached for her hand and pulled her to sit beside him.  “See how solid?  It’s really built well.”
     “I’ll say.”  Katherine was aware of his shoulder as she looked at her hand in his.  “I mean, how did you get it to look so good?”
     “It’s in the wood.  The hard part is taking the old paint off.  Then, if the wood’s any good, the finish will turn out beautifully.  You don’t know until you see the bare wood.  But after stripping, it’s a breeze.”
     Katherine nodded her head, thinking of how she hadn’t even noticed taking off her clothes with Rick in this very room a few weeks ago.  “Stripping’s difficult,” she mused.  There was a moment of silence.
     “It is,” said Rick, gently squeezing her hand.  “But I like doing it.”
     “You said.”  Katherine curled her hand into his palm.
     “And refinishing.  I really enjoy rubbing the wax in.  Rubbing it all over, making sure to get into each and every groove, buffing it really slowly, until it shines.  That’s really satisfying.”

Leave a Comment

Name (required)

E- mail (will not be published) (required)

Website