25. September 22nd
Angie
Turns out I cannot handle a little paint.
I stare at the blood red wall in front of me as I splay out on the tarp-covered floor of the living room. It’s only half painted, but I’m so out of breath I need this break. Yesterday, Raf and his moms helped me paint the nursery a sweet pastel yellow, and it turned out perfect. But today I’m here by myself, and after switching paint colors last minute at the hardware store, I made a slightly bolder choice to axe the eggshell-finish cream and go for blood. I mean red.
I like it. I just wish I had enough energy to finish it.
Finally catching my breath but still sweating, I dial Joaquín.
“Hey pretty lady,” he says cheerfully. “What are you doing?”
“Painting the living room.”
“Raf there?”
“No. He’s doing some charity fundraiser five-k with the team today.”
“Oh that’s right. So what’s going on?”
“Well, turns out I’m not as physically capable as I once was,” I admit. “Raf told me to tell you what colors and lights to order?” I trail off, hoping he knows about that.
“Yeah, of course! You need me to get the crew on it?”
“Yes please,” I sigh. “I got all the paint and wallpaper, I just need everything else taken care of,” I laugh.
“You got it. Do you have any inspiration pics you can send me?”
“Oh yeah.” I perk up at that and start scrolling through my phone. “There. You should have them now.”
“Oh,” he says ominously. “Are…are you sure about this? These are all so…unique.”
“I thought so too,” I cheer.
“So this kind of gothic red and black one… This would be for…?”
“The living room,” I say flatly.
“Okay,” he drawls. “And this Barbie Dream House?”
“All the bathrooms.”
“And this hobbit-like dwelling with all the mushrooms and crystals and plants?”
“The sunroom. Oh, and the stairs and the halls. You know, for cohesion.”
“Gotcha. Welp, I don’t see any need to run this past my brother, do you?”
“He’s gonna love it,” I beam.
“Okay, I’ll tell the crew and make sure they know the library will be giving cottage-core vibes.”
“The what?”
“The library,” he repeats.
“There’s no library in this house.”
“Yeah. Raf said the sunroom is supposed to be a library for you. I have custom shelving being installed in a few weeks.”
“What?” God, I sound like a broken record, but—what?
“Yeah. They’re beautiful. You’re going to love them.”
I’m stunned. He’s giving me a library? Once again guilt gnaws its way into my gut, but it’s surrounded by tiny fluttering pink butterflies.
“I’ve always wanted a library,” I whisper to myself.
“I know,” Joaquín says with a lilt. “Your romance books will be so happy in their new home. By the way, that queer orc romance with the drag queen was a great recommendation. Five stars. Alright I gotta go but send me anymore inspo pics you have, and I’ll get it all squared away with the crew.”
“Okay,” I say, still taken aback by this new information and what it means, if anything.
“Te quiero.”
“Te quiero,Joaquín…”