3. Joni
Joni
I walk into Grin’s Pub like I’ve done a thousand times before, but I’m anxious today. My inner control freak would rather be at my house, overseeing the job I’m paying a qualified general contractor to handle.
Do I have any construction skills or knowledge? No.
Is the project at a point where anything could go wrong with the design? Not yet.
But it took me so long to get to a place where I could make any changes to the house . . . to make it mine alone. To make choices that should’ve been joint decisions.
I don’t mean to be a difficult client, but I’m struggling with things I didn’t expect to bother me.
Like demolishing the outdated kitchen that I’ve been looking forward to renovating since the day we moved in.
It’s long past time for these changes, and I know I’ll love it when it’s done, but my gut knots every time I see the necessary devastation.
Poor Enzo. He probably regrets ever bidding the job.
Sabrina comes out of the kitchen and lifts her hand in as much of a wave as she can create while holding a basket of fries. She has a basket of onion rings in her other hand, and she’s walking toward the table where Glynnis is waiting on us.
Mav hates when Sabrina randomly uses the kitchen in his bar. The kitchen is only open on weekends and only in the evenings, but as often as our schedules allow, she, Glynnis, and I claim a corner table in the middle of the afternoon and camp out with deep-fried snacks for a few hours.
We all agree these sessions are great for our mental health. Sabrina’s husband, Mav, doesn’t enjoy the same health benefits. She insists he doesn’t actually mind; he just needs to grumble about it.
The bar isn’t usually crowded on a Wednesday afternoon, but more than once, a customer has been confused when told the kitchen isn’t open while clearly seeing that we have food on our table.
Between Glynnis’s obligations to her lip spas, including her newest location right here in Grinberry Falls, and Sabrina’s job as a location scout for the film industry, we have to coordinate our schedules for weeks ahead of time to nail down our dates.
Glynnis and I always offer to clean the fryer, but Mav just shakes his head, sighs, and says, “I’ve got it.” And then he smiles and tells us to let him know if we need anything else.
He’s been a walking conundrum as long as I’ve known him, but I think Sabrina decoded him the moment they met. Some people are just meant for each other.
“So,” Glynnis says, dragging a fry through ketchup before popping it between her crimson lips. “How’s my favorite contractor working out for you?”
“Great. They’re done with demo. My kitchen is a blank slate, which is more unsettling than I was prepared for. I’m already questioning the new layout I agreed to and the cabinet style. Enzo’s job on the project is secure. I just have to keep from exasperating him to the point he quits on me.”
Her blue-eyed stare holds me captive for a prolonged moment before she glances toward Sabrina. The two of them have been best friends since college, and I swear they can have whole conversations without saying a word.
Sabrina smiles at me, and the glint in her eyes confirms I’ve definitely missed something.
“What?” I ask. “Enzo’s great. No complaints.”
“Babe.” Glynnis draws the word out with a sardonic lilt that only she can deliver without offending someone. It’s a skill.
Again, I ask, “What?”
“I know he has impressive skills as a general contractor,” she clarifies. “What I’m asking is if he’s impressed you in any other ways.”
My face flushes, and I’d love to blame a hot flash, but perimenopause hasn’t dealt me that particular blow yet. Unless this is the inaugural event? I gulp my iced tea.
“He’s entirely too young for me to be impressed by him on a personal level.”
“Bullshit!” The expletive escapes Glynnis and Sabrina in unison.
“For non-Texans, y’all sure deliver that word like you were born here.”
“For a single woman,” Sabrina says, “you sure act like you’d be breaking a vow to enjoy the company of a gorgeous man, one who is going to be in your house for hours on end every day.”
“I date. Don’t make me sound like some prude walking around with her thighs super-glued shut.”
“No.” Glynnis shakes her head. “You don’t date.
You have very intentional encounters. And it was great to see you take that step.
God knows I’m the first one to support a woman’s right to an active sex life, but you could entertain the possibility of having an actual relationship at this point, you know?
Maybe expand the playing field beyond that app. ”
“Especially when you’ve got a perfectly available and obviously interested player at your fingertips,” Sabrina adds.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Glynnis rips an onion ring in half with her teeth like a lioness devouring prey. “Put hands on that man. See where it goes.”
“First of all, I’m not about to prey on my contractor. Second of all, I’m sure he’s got plenty of women his own age to choose from.”
“But he’s into you,” Sabrina says matter-of-factly. “Quit rationalizing away his flirtations. They’re real.”
“What are you talking about?”
Her giggle flourishes like the effervescence of champagne. “Tell me there haven’t been any tense moments between the two of you.”
“You tell me what makes you think there have been.”
She and Glynnis exchange their telepathic waves across the table again.
“Go ahead,” Sabrina says. “Tell her, Glynnie.”
“Okay, fine. You didn’t hear this from me, but Rhett ran into Enzo in the hardware store a few days ago.
Rhett asked him how the project was going, and apparently, and this is a direct quote, ‘he looked like a high school boy who’d just been caught sneaking out his girlfriend’s bedroom window.
’ So, if you ask me, you could definitely get more than a new kitchen out of this deal. ”
“There is no deal beyond a new kitchen.” I say. “The end.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Rhett’s convinced y’all have already crossed the line.”
“You tell your fiancé that any lines I cross are none of his damn business, and unless he wants his balls ripped off, he better keep my name out of his mouth. He knows better than to be gossiping about me in this town.”
“He wasn’t gossiping about you. It was just me and him. And I’d prefer his balls remain attached.”
“That’s up to him.”
Sabrina lays her hand over mine on the table.
“Joni, we just want to be sure you realize that you’re not imagining it if you think he’s flirting.
You have a tendency to sell yourself short, but you’re amazing.
Nobody’s saying you should marry the guy.
But what could it hurt to have a hot fling with a younger man?
Millions of women would love to be in your shoes right now. ”
“He’s not a random younger man. He’s basically my employee.”
“Temporarily,” Glynnis says. “Not that it would stop me, but if that’s a sticking point for you, just make sure he knows you’re available after the paint dries.”
“God, that sounded like the world’s worst euphemism.” I drop the cold fry I was about to eat.
“But it could lead to the best time of your life.”
“She’s not wrong,” Sabrina says.
As if it hasn’t occurred to me that Enzo might be a good time. A totally forbidden, completely off-limits, hell of a good time.
A pang of guilt forces a sigh from my lungs as I get back into my truck to head home.
Oliver loves to come into town and prance down the sidewalk, staring into all the shop windows, checking out the plates of food on the front tables in Trudy’s Diner, having all the smiles and hellos heaped upon him by everyone he passes.
My alpaca is more well-known in my hometown than I am, and he just moved into my pasture a year ago.
I’ve been so stressed that I just didn’t have the energy to hook up his trailer today, which was both lazy and inconsiderate of me. This home renovation is changing me, too.
I’ll make it up to Oliver.