17. A Fondue Farewell to the Fake Wall
A FONDUE FAREWELL TO THE FAKE WALL
CHARLIE
She squeals when I get home and hand her the box, then she pushes me toward the stairs with instructions to go change from “stuffy” clothes to “party” clothes.
Okay, first off, the silky pale pink blouse I’m wearing isn’t stuffy.
And secondly, I don’t think I know what “party” clothes means in her mind.
She is wearing a plaid shirt tied over a beehive print knit dress and plaid glasses frames (which I didn’t even know they made until Reese wore them for the first time), so I go for a fun and flirty casual dress with a strawberry print.
Since we had workers over today, I do a quick sweep upstairs for bugs and a quick check under beds and in closets for sneaky people. I’ll have to check for bugs downstairs after Reese goes to bed.
I go back down and take a look at the kitchen, since I was rushed past it so quickly that I didn’t even notice before.
We have a wall! It’s not painted yet. The place smells like Sheetrock mud, so I’m guessing it didn’t dry in time to paint.
So my cabinets and countertop are still piled on and around my kitchen table, but there’s a wall!
The one cabinet that stayed—my lone island—is currently holding what I’m sure are the appetizers Reese planned.
But it’s also covered by a tablecloth, so I can’t actually see them.
A knock sounds at my door, and I immediately know it’s Owen. But at the same time, it feels weird because he’s only knocked on my door once or twice before. It’s strange how quickly we got used to the door cut into our wall. Stranger still is how I already miss it.
I open the door, and I’m practically breathless just seeing him standing there, a beautiful smile on his face, holding a plate of brownies.
I can barely manage to get out a super breathy, “Hi.” I’m smiling and just taking him in, and he’s doing the same right back at me.
Gosh, I thought about this man a lot today.
Especially after seeing his cute hopping sock-putting-on while singing his to-do list. I’ve heard his lists several times before, but I’ve never seen it at the same time.
It was so endearing, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
And I swear it had nothing to do with the fact that he was also shirtless.
Although I did spend time thinking about that, too.
He holds up the brownies a bit. “Luis and his daughter were baking again.”
“They look delicious.” Charlie! You can’t just leave the man standing there while you soak him in. “Come in!”
He looks and smells freshly showered, so I know he’s been to his townhome to see the wall. “You’ve got new Sheetrock on your side, too, right?”
We’re to my kitchen, and he nods and says, “My side looks almost exactly the same as yours. Minus this” —he gestures at the appetizers counter that’s covered with a tablecloth—“strangely shaped ghost here.”
“You are in luck,” Reese says, “because I’m about to unmask this ghost.” She pulls the tablecloth off with a flourish.
“For our The Wall is Up party, we’ve got ‘Wall-Worthy Veggie Planks with a spackle dip.’ Do you like how all the carrots, cucumbers, and bell peppers are all lined up like the studs in our wall?
And these,” she says, Vanna White-ing tortilla rollups, “are ‘Painter’s Tape Pinwheels.’
“Next, we’ve got Stud Muffins in both mini chocolate chip and banana varieties. You can decide for yourself if it’s a callback to the wall studs or Owen’s shirtless moment this morning.”
I peek over at Owen and see him blush just a bit.
“And these tasty, flaky, powdered sugar-topped things are ‘Drywall Dust Pastry Bites.’” She motions to the brownies. “And we’ll call these ‘Building Material Bricks.’”
“I won’t tell Luis that you called his brownies ‘bricks.’”
Reese grins. “And then our gathering activity is to fill out a couple of these certificates for our awards ceremony. Be as creative as you’d like.”
“‘Gathering’ activity?” I ask. “We’re all here. There are only three of us.”
“Humor me.”
So we do. As I’m filling one out, I say, “You know, it’s nice it’s only been three of us affected. In my college dorm, there were six of us. And we were right next to a dorm with six guys. Can you even imagine how much more chaotic that would’ve been?”
“I’m not sure I would’ve survived that,” Owen says. “Plus, they probably wouldn’t have had pinwheels.”
As we finish with the certificates, Reese says, “Okay, load yourself up a plate and come over to the couch. ”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice—I am starving. So I load up my plate and head over to our couches. Owen sits down next to me, close enough that our arms are brushing, and it gives me tingling all up my arm and neck.
Reese stands on the other side of the coffee table.
“Okay, we are going to play a game called ‘The Wall is Up, But the Secrets Are Out: A Fondue-Fueled Q and A.’” She puts her hands on the sides of a fondue pot.
“I’ve got slips of paper in here, each with a question.
We’ll take turns pulling out a question, and then the person who pulls it out has to answer it.
I was going to put the questions in a bowl, but” —she gestures toward the cabinets piled up in our kitchen—“they aren’t exactly accessible.
This was on top of the fridge, though. Plus, who doesn’t want to see one of these at a party? ”
“And we have to answer the one we pull out?” I ask, a little wary.
“I mean, where’s the fun if you don’t?”
“Okay, then,” I say, “you start.”
Reese makes a big show of reaching into the pot and pulling out a paper.
“Okay, it says, What’s something your neighbor might’ve overheard through the ‘wall’ that you really hope they didn’t?
Follow-up: confirm whether they did or not .
Did I have to choose this one?” She runs her hands over her face.
“Okay, Owen. One night when Charlie was working late, I decided to binge-watch the last few episodes of season two of Buffy the Vampire Slayer . I’m really hoping you didn’t hear me sobbing my way through the final episode of the season.”
In much too innocent of a voice, Owen says, “I must’ve missed that.”
Reese sighs in relief as she takes her seat.
Then, in a quiet voice, Owen says, “ Nooo , wait! He’s Angel again! Don’t stab him!”
Reese gasps. “You did hear!” She takes a deep breath. “It’s fine. You’re going next.”
Owen leans forward and pulls out a paper. “ What are you going to miss the most? ” He thinks for a small moment, and then says, “I’m going to miss the sticky notes on my wall. Even the one that simply said, Is this mildew or is the wall sad? Because honestly, that got me through a weird Tuesday.”
I chuckle. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I wrote that one. But I’m definitely going to miss the notes, too.
I grab a slip of paper from the fondue pot. “ What was the most underrated perk of having no wall? ” I hardly even have to think to come up with my answer. “The ease of getting Owen’s help, like when I couldn’t reach the top of the fridge, or when I desperately needed light.”
“Or,” Reese says, “to have him come, wielding a drill, ready to fend off an intruder. ”
Owen chuckles, shaking his head. “I am never going to live that one down, am I?”
“Not if I have any say in it.” Reese grabs a paper.
“ If you could keep one part of the shared-wall era forever, what would it be? Hands down, it’s how easy it was to eavesdrop.
Not that I ever did that!” she says with a sly smile.
“I’m just saying that I’ll miss the opportunity.
The power of knowing I could hear embarrassing moments from both of you and stockpile them for future blackmail… Priceless.”
I give her a playful shove as Owen leans forward to grab a paper.
“ Tell us about a time you heard something you weren’t supposed to.
” He thinks for a moment, then chuckles and scratches the back of his neck.
“Okay, so one morning, I was getting ready for work, and I heard Charlie through the wall giving herself a pep talk.”
I can already feel the heat rising to my face.
“She said, ‘Okay, you’ve got this. You’re smart, you’re capable, and your eyebrows are doing exactly what you want them to today.
’ I wasn’t supposed to hear it, obviously—but I was inspired.
I gave myself the same pep talk the next morning in the mirror.
And honestly? My eyebrows looked great that day. And I accomplished a lot.”
“In my defense,” I say, “my eyebrows were great that day, and I wanted to acknowledge their contribution.”
Reese nods. “And we all know that a strong brow game is the gateway to a strong life.”
Shaking my head, I say, “And I was this close to keeping up my ‘cool, mysterious girl next door’ persona. This is exactly why I now whisper all my pep talks directly to my concealer.”
“Honestly,” Owen says, “you should start recording them and selling them as motivational voice-overs.”
I reach forward and grab out a slip of paper. “ Give an acceptance speech for surviving the Great Wall-less Era . Okay, I’ve got this.” I stand and walk around to the other side of the coffee table, facing my roommate and the guy I’m falling for faster and faster every day. Then I clear my throat.
“I am so thrilled to win this award. For so long, I didn’t think I’d ever get here.
I’d like to thank my noise-canceling headphones, the resilience of painter’s tape, and the miracle of dry shampoo for getting me through this emotionally trying time.
I’d also like to thank Owen for not filing a noise complaint when I sang my way through every girl pop anthem in the shower.
And finally, to the crew of Demo Daydreams: your chaos is matched only by your charm. Long live actual walls.”
“And to the plastic wall,” Owen says, “may your retirement be loud and rustly, somewhere far, far away. ”
“Here, here,” Reese says. “And on that note, I think it’s time for… the awards ceremony!” Reese takes my spot, and I sit back down next to Owen. “I’m not going to say who wrote each of these—I’ll let you figure it out on your own. Drum roll, please.”
Owen and I each drum on our thighs.
Reese picks up the first certificate. They’re actual certificates with a blank line that we wrote on. “Okay, the ‘Best live performance’ goes to… The Hop-shimmy Sock Solo: Owen’s shirtless performance of his to-do list song!”
Reese and I both cheer, and Owen stands to take a little bow before accepting his certificate. I love that he’s a good sport about this, especially because someday, I hope to get a repeat performance.
“And the ‘Most Cheerful Shower Crooner’ award goes to… Charlie, for her belting out of the song Unwritten right as the water betrayed her.”
My head whips to Owen. “You heard me? But I was upstairs!”
“Yes, but to be fair, it was more a product of the volume and because our bathrooms also share a wall than it was a lack of a wall down here. Although not having a wall down here did make it feel more in stereo.”
I take a deep breath, stand, bow, and accept my certificate.
Reese holds up the next certificate. “ Okay, the award for ‘Best Backup Wall’ goes to… Painter’s Tape and Thin Plastic! Since they are no longer here to accept their award, we’ll ship it to them in this week’s garbage bag.”
We all cheer. I am grateful for the painters’ tape and roll of plastic that the repairmen put up. We had some good times.
“And the ‘Best Rocking out to Music’ award goes to… Oh! Me, for ‘dancing and singing along to Livin’ on a Prayer while sweeping.’” Her eyes go wide as she turns to Owen. “Nooooo. You did not see that!”
“It was fuzzy through the plastic, but yes.”
“You didn’t! I checked for your truck—you weren’t home!”
“Maybe when you started, but I came home when you already had the music blasting.”
Reese takes a slow, deep breath, waving her hand like she’s trying to send more oxygen her way.
Then says, “It’s okay. I’m over it. Besides, I have great dance moves.
Okay, final award. This one, ‘Most Timely and Much Appreciated Rescue’ goes to Owen, for his ‘gift of light in the time of great darkness and cookies in the time of great hunger.’ Awww! ”
Owen looks at me with an expression that I like, but I can’t quite read, and I somehow feel the intensity of the emotion deep in my core. Then he gets up, takes a bow, and accepts his award.
I’m not sure how to react to that, so I pick up my plastic cup and say, “I think this deserves a toast.” Reese and Owen pick up their cups, too, so I say, “To the wall!” and we all clink cups. Except it’s more of a dull ping than a clink.
Then Owen says, “And to eventually getting a kitchen sink again!” And we all clink-ping. I really can’t wait for that day. Owen studies his Solo cup. “You know, it feels weird to use these now that they no longer match the quality of our wall.”
“And,” Reese says, “To being able to use non-disposable dishes again soon!” And we plink cups.
I’m not ready for the evening to end, and I’m glad that Owen and Reese don’t seem to be, either.
So we draw more slips of paper from the fondue pot—I swear that Reese made like fifty of them—and keep sharing about this crazy experience.
The longer we go, the more we laugh until our guts hurt.
And I soak in every minute of it. Gosh, I love spending time with this man.
Eventually, though, the night has to end because Reese and I have an early day tomorrow. As I am walking Owen to our door, he says, “Is it weird that I’m going to miss our plastic wall?”
I shake my head and say, “No.” Then I pause. “Well, yes, it is weird. But I’m going to miss it, too.”
We stop at the door, and Owen looks at me again like he can see right into me. I can’t stop looking at him, either, but I don’t seem to have his ability to see into a person. There is so much more about him that I want to know.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” He’s tilting his head a bit, his voice is low, and his eyes are soft.
I shake my head. “I’m going straight from work to Mackenzie’s to help with last-minute wedding prep.”
“So I’ll see you next at the wedding? I’m guessing you’ll need to be there much earlier than you want me there.”
I’m nodding, but I can’t stop looking from his eyes to his lips. Then it suddenly hits me. “Oh! We should exchange phone numbers! It’s weird that we haven’t already.”
“We’ve had such easy access through our wall that I guess we haven’t needed it.”
So, we put our phone numbers into each other’s phones. Then, Owen’s eyes fall on mine, and he reaches out and gently caresses my cheek with his fingertips as he brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, sending tingling all down my back.
“Then, neighbor, I will see you on Saturday.”
He opens my door and leaves, and I’m left standing in my entry, too stunned by that sweet mega-dose of Owen to even move.