Chapter Twenty-five
With Ellie’s car still parked out front, Jack had no choice but to sit and stew that she was next door spilling her guts to Rhett while shutting him out completely.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had choices.
And after an hour of pussyfooting, he hauled himself over to Logan and Kathleen’s for an afternoon of basement puttering.
“So, did you break up?” Logan asked not twenty minutes after they’d settled on refurbing a couple of their side-of-the-road finds.
Jack ran the planer over the cabinet surface, then followed with his hand to check for rough spots. He should have known better than to think they could simply work in companionable silence. “I don’t think so?”
Logan looked up from where she’d been filling tiny nail holes with her secret blend of wood putty and sawdust. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
“We didn’t break up, but we didn’t resolve anything, either.”
Logan shrugged. “That feels like standard fare for a couple fight.”
Jack grumbled on principle. He was perfectly prepared for couple fights with Ellie, along with everything else that being a couple entailed. Only he wasn’t at all certain that feeling was mutual.
“I get that it sucks, but not everything can be resolved in a single conversation.”
“I don’t need it to be.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he refused to take on the stubborn and grumpy mantle when he’d been neither.
“No?” Logan didn’t pretend to be anything but dubious.
“Yes, I like things to be concrete, but that’s not the same. There’s no plan for what next. No, hey let’s cool off for a couple of days and try to talk. You know?”
“Did you have such a heated argument that you need a couple of days to cool off?”
“No?” There he went with questions disguised as answers again. “No. It was barely a fight at all. Strong words. I think Ellie felt hurt, but also like she didn’t want to get into it.”
“Oh,” Logan drawled in that knowing way she had.
“What do you mean, ‘oh’?”
“You like to state grievances, come to consensus, clear the air, and move on.”
He tried and failed to find fault in that approach. “And?”
“And not everyone works that way.”
“What other way is there?” He lifted a hand before Logan could reply. “That’s not passive-aggressive and dysfunctional.”
“Feeling heard, having your feelings validated even if they’re somewhat irrational. Some people need that before they can get to the logic.”
“That’s just it. I all but asked her whether she wanted empathy or problem solving.”
Logan laughed at the phrase they’d all learned from Clover. “And?”
“And it was like she didn’t want either. She wanted to pretend like nothing was wrong and go about her business.”
“Huh.” To her credit—or maybe to his relief—Logan seemed stumped. “Like, stubborn and independent?”
That he could have worked with. Thanks, Maddie. “More like she didn’t trust me with her feelings enough to share them in the first place.”
“Ouch.”
He hadn’t put it in those words before, even in his own mind. But they seemed to hit the nail on the head. “I don’t know if it’s specific to me, or if she doesn’t trust anyone.”
“That’s tough,” Logan said. “Both options kind of suck.”
And didn’t leave him with a whole lot of room to work. “She did call me out on expecting her to educate me on her mom’s condition.”
“That doesn’t feel like an unreasonable ask.”
“Yes and no. I mean, it’s definitely insensitive to expect her to hold my hand while she’s trying to keep her head above water. But her experience is unique, and that’s what I want to understand.”
“I guess.”
Logan didn’t seem convinced, and Jack wondered whether he felt compelled to swoop to his own defense or Ellie’s. And then it hit him. “It’s like how I resent it when people I barely know ask me about trans stuff they could easily learn by reading an article. Hell, a blog. A TikTok video.”
Logan made a sweeping gesture with her sanding block. “Okay, see, that makes sense. Did you just come up with that?”
He nodded.
“I guess that gives you something concrete to do?”
Another nod. “At this point, I’ll take what I can get.”
It didn’t do anything about Ellie’s reticence to let him into that part of her world, but when it came down to it, that would be her call to make.
Hopefully, he could do his homework and lay a better foundation.
With something solid in place, hopefully he could convince her to land on the side of navigating hard stuff together.
* * *
Ellie needed to talk to Jack. She knew it as clearly as she knew her own name. She also knew it was going to suck. Nothing about being messy or vulnerable appealed to her. Even as she prided herself on being someone her friends and partners could be messy and vulnerable with.
She didn’t relish being a woman of contradiction, but it was what she had. Unlike her actual work. When it came to that, she was a goddamn genius.
She stepped back from the last Hampstead House mural and smiled.
She would have regardless. The final touches on a big project always brought a certain satisfaction, and this one was the biggest she’d ever tackled solo.
But this work also had the queerness Bea had asked her to infuse, and Ellie couldn’t be happier with the result.
As they’d discussed, she’d given a picnicking woman, who happened to be gazing longingly at a man, a five o’clock shadow and one of the gallant gentlemen an unmistakable boob swell.
Two women walking together now held hands and gazed at each other with far more than friendly affection.
And she’d figured out how to turn an outstretched palm into an implied hand job.
The result was less obvious than the bathroom mural, where she’d worked feather boas and actual glitter into a hunting scene, but that’s what made it so special.
A passing glance might not even pick up on the gender bending she’d managed to weave into the original.
And she’d done such a good job matching the colors and style that it looked as though it had been in the house for a hundred years.
She tapped the wooden tip of the paintbrush to her lips and contemplated any final strokes. But no. It was done. And as far as she was concerned, it was damn near perfect.
“Wow.” Pablo appeared beside her, arms cast wide. “It’s literally a masterpiece.”
He’d been stingy with his praise over the course of the project, though she hadn’t been able to tell if it had to do with her skills or Bea’s idea.
Perhaps it had been the confluence of those two things and whether she genuinely had the skill to make Bea’s vision a reality.
He seemed plenty pleased now, though, and that’s what mattered.
Well, technically, it mattered if Bea was pleased, but she’d take Pablo as proxy for now. “Yeah?”
“It’s fucking epic.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to lie, I thought it was going to look cheap and tacky.”
She bristled on principle but knew what he meant. The fact that she’d managed to avoid that felt like a feather in her cap. “I’m pretty happy with how it’s come out.”
“Bea is going to flip. I can’t decide whether I should send her a picture now or make her wait so she can see it in person.”
Ellie lifted both hands, a rather comical gesture with a paintbrush in one and a palette in the other. “I’m going to leave that up to you.”
Pablo studied the mural. “Wait, I think. It’s the detail that really makes it, right?”
“For sure.” And Bea hadn’t been back since she’d actually gotten to the painting part, so it would be quite the reveal.
He turned to her with exaggerated seriousness. “Do you want to be here when that happens? She’s going to be up next week to oversee the decorating.”
Ellie shook her head. As much as she enjoyed being showered with compliments, Bea made her uneasy. Uneasy as in borderline creeped out. Not a worthwhile trade in her book. “No, no. I just need to know if she’s happy with it or if there are any changes or additions she wants.”
“Suit yourself, girlie. Me, I’d want the praise parade.”
She chuckled at the phrase and tucked it away for future use.
“You’re coming to the party, right?” he asked.
She loved a good party but hadn’t been invited to one that she knew of. “Party?”
“Oh, the invites probably just went out. Housewarming. Bea’s invited all her friends from the city, but she wanted to include the contractors too. Well, at least the queer ones.” He winked.
Other than a couple of carpenters and subcontractors, that pretty much covered the entire crew.
It would be nice to see everyone again, to celebrate the completion of the renovation.
And she was more than a little intrigued by the prospect of meeting some of Bea’s friends.
Would they be old money? Powerhouse lesbians?
Other eccentric dynasty heiresses? “If I’m invited, I wouldn’t miss it. ”
“Perfect. You’ll needle Jack into coming, won’t you? Bea is quite enamored with him, but I get the sense he’s not one for cocktail parties.”
Ellie laughed even as her chest constricted. He’d attempted to be subtle, but she couldn’t help but wonder whether Pablo had picked up on the chemistry between them. And if his comment had more to do with getting Jack to the party or finding out if they were together. “I’ll see what I can do.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, clearly unsatisfied with her vaguebook answer. “And of course a plus-one, if you’re seeing anyone.”
He was upping the ante, but she refused to take the bait. “Thanks,” she said brightly.
Pablo lifted his chin, as though acknowledging she’d taken the point if not the match. “Are you all done? Can I check you off and put your final check in the mail?”
“Yes, and please do.” She wasn’t feeling strapped, but the influx would give her a sense of security until she figured out her next big job.
“Excellent.” Pablo whipped out his ubiquitous tablet and tapped at the screen. “Floor guys are in tomorrow and the appliances are due end of the week. I think that leaves me to schedule movers.”
“I wasn’t holding you up, was I?” Between moving out earlier than she’d planned and all the time at the hospital, she’d run a couple of days over her estimate.
“Not at all. The main bathroom is still a situation. Bea decided she didn’t like the marble she’d picked for the shower after all.”
Ellie kept her expression neutral, but it wasn’t without effort. She might find people like Bea maddening, but jobs like the one she’d just finished wouldn’t exist without them. “Then I will clean up and clear out.”
Pablo looked up from the screen. “Can I keep you in mind for other projects? You do paintings from scratch, right?”
She’d never considered herself good enough to be an artist outright.
Or, rather, never considered art on its own a viable career path.
The prospect of being hired solely for her talent—her vision—as a painter sent a ripple of pleasure through her.
She stood a little taller and resisted the urge to be bashful.
“I do, and I’d love to work with you again. ”
Pablo grinned and Ellie wondered if he had any clue the gift he’d just given her. “I’ve got your number, and I promise I’ll be using it.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” If only things with Jack were that simple.