Chapter 18
Tabitha
Tim had worked on the house all week, and we’d texted almost nonstop as he finished the roof and bedrooms and readied the bathrooms for laying the tiles.
So when he arrived at the house the second Saturday, the crew poised at the door, we exchanged a quick greeting and hit the ground running, working continuously all morning.
He dismantled the kitchen island and counters.
In between checking with interior design warehouses for fabrics and furniture and the controversial AGA stove, I hauled out the debris into the dumpster at the top of the driveway.
Trystan kept bringing me tidbits to eat, keeping me fueled.
I felt quite special until I realized he was doing the same thing for Tim. They continued to film us.
Simon made another announcement for us to post on our socials and get the buzz going.
“Have you checked out the TV show’s socials yet?” Tim asked with a friendly smile as we went back to work on the tiles.
“No, and I don’t think I will.” Out of fear and dread, I hadn’t posted anything on my own account, and I studiously avoided checking the TV show’s socials.
I wasn’t na?ve about what I might see there—I had no doubt the site hosted a nest of viperish trolls.
I needed all my positive energy for getting this house done and making sure we won the prize money.
At 2:00 p.m., still dirty and dusty, Tim and I and the crew and interns piled into the work van and drove for half an hour to the tile warehouse.
I was relieved to be sitting down and used the time to answer the emails on my phone.
Tim sat all the way in the back and joked with the crew the whole time.
I felt a little twinge of jealousy that he so easily made friends with strangers.
He’d always been far more outgoing than I was, but it hadn’t really mattered once our lives didn’t revolve around each other.
At Home and Garden, my quieter nature helped me get work done.
I felt respected…heard. Mostly. But with this group?
I felt like I was the dull, too-responsible one. Words that Perry had thrown at me.
Great. Now I was thinking about my ex. At least it should be fun at the tile store.
Once we’d parked, we walked down a long driveway to the open warehouse at the back.
As we approached, Tim groaned at the vast space, but once inside, I started methodically examining all the stacks.
I quickly found the large fake marble tiles near the front—the shop had obviously put them there for our convenience—and started laying them all flat on the floor. Tim joined in.
A surge of excitement pulsed through me as we started fitting the tiles together. Tim at my side, we did a sort of dance around each other, trying to get the marble imprint to match up—pulling tiles, switching them around, putting them back, and starting again.
After a half hour, Tim held his head. “I must have done something horrible in a past life to deserve this. Next life, just crush me like the bug I’ll be and put me out of my misery.”
“Oh, stop being such a baby,” I said. “Honestly, it’s just a puzzle.”
“More like a mindfuck.”
There was more swearing from each of us while Simon rolled his neck and Freya massaged her temples, but after a while, we sorted out a system and got into a rhythm, and we were making good progress.
Two hours later, we were close. We’d nearly matched up enough tiles for a whole bathroom, which we could repeat in each of the ten bathrooms. We’d made it look like one big slab of marble, sort of. I’d had an idea, and I’d carried it through, saving thousands of pounds. I sighed happily.
“We’re nearly there,” I said to the camera. I stuck out my bottom lip and made a baby face to Tim. “That wasn’t so bad, was it, Timmy?”
Tim looked at me slack-jawed, but the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkled like, finally, he found it amusing.
“Scene.” Simon clapped his hands and wound his enormous scarf around his ears.
“Your conversations devolved into so much bleeping, it’s just going to be one long ‘eeeee.’ A bit like having Aberdeeen in the room.
Wait.” He held up a finger and pressed his ear.
“Okay, we’ll be right out,” he said, obviously talking to whoever was in his ear.
“Trystan has arrived in his van with coffee and tea and strawberry sponge cake. Take a break.”
“Guys, shouldn’t we just finish this off first?” I asked. We only had another half hour or so to complete it entirely.
The others looked at me like they were going to smash one of the tiles over my head.
“Yes, agreed. Let’s take a break,” I said, knowing when to quit, clapping my hands with false cheerfulness as they all walked away from me.
I didn’t show it, but I was relieved to take a break too.
Because Tim and I had been working shoulder to shoulder, comparing the tiles, stepping back to view them, it felt natural to stay close.
I kept pace with him as we walked together toward the coffee truck, our hands brushing, our hips rubbing past each other with each step.
“Thanks, Tim.” I elbowed him, wrinkling my nose apologetically. “I know this is hard.”
“It’s not been too bad.” He smiled at me. I choked and he laughed. “Okay, it’s been fucking torture, but it’s done now. An achievement.”
We joined Trystan at his van around the corner and, without discussing it, chose to hover around the van rather than taking our drinks and cakes back to the warehouse.
Forty minutes later, it seemed like everyone except me was trying to delay our return to work.
“It’s been forty minutes. Ready?” I asked, mustering as much enthusiasm as I could.
The exhaustion was closing in. I hadn’t realized the toll that working on the weekends after a busy workweek would take.
This was effectively working my thirteenth day straight.
And given my job wasn’t particularly physically strenuous, I had to give Tim credit.
He hadn’t complained once about how hard this was on his body.
“You might just have to accept that a couple of those final tiles aren’t going to quite match,” Tim said, downing the last of his coffee like it was a life-giving potion necessary for him to face the arduous task before him.
I forced my best, knowing smile, even though I secretly thought he could be right.
We filed back into the warehouse, Simon and Freya leading the way, then me, with Tim trudging behind me reluctantly, the crew dragging their feet, alternating between smirks, eye rolls, and yawns, followed by the two interns.
“Stop!” Simon said. “We start filming now!”
I froze. What had he seen?
“Literally paint drying,” grumbled one of the crew, but all three raised their equipment quick as a flash, ever professional.
I wandered into the warehouse first. “Holy fuuuuuck.” My heart thudded into my boots.
Tim came next. He slapped a hand on his chest. “Oh my God! No, no, no.” He howled and dropped to his knees. “I haven’t cried since I broke my arm falling from Mrs. Shore’s apple tree.” I remembered it. “But I am going to fucking sob right now.”
I stared at the concrete floor. Agh. Cake, too much coffee, and the horror of what I was looking at, coagulated in my stomach with a nauseating twirl.
In the space where we’d carefully laid out the tiles in a pattern, there was now emptiness. Just stained concrete floor. Clearly, one of the warehouse crew had picked up the arrangement we’d made. I checked the walls nearby. The tiles weren’t stacked there. They were gone. But where?
“Interns!” Simon boomed. “Find the tiles.”
The two interns scattered, but the tiles were nowhere to be found in the warehouse. Both interns scurried inside to make inquiries. Arms folded, Tim and I looked around nervously, and all of us stayed silent, maybe not wanting to jinx anything by guessing what had happened.
After a few minutes, the interns returned with a man who looked like he was in charge.
“Hello,” I said. I wanted to scream, but I steeled myself to stay calm.
“We organized some tiles out here. Do you know what happened to them?” A surge of panic traveled through my chest and up my throat, making my voice shaky and high.
I was going to cry. But I couldn’t. “We just spent two hours trying to recreate a block of uncut marble with tiles. We left for forty minutes, and when we came back, the tiles were all gone.” I thrust out two hands. “The floor is empty.”
“Those tiles.” The manager pursed his lips. “We were really annoyed you left them there. We couldn’t find you. We thought you just buggered off without taking them. They’re piled up back in the store. But in five different places.”
“Oh no, oh no.” My stomach slumped hard onto the hard concrete floor.
Tim was still kneeling, groaning, his hands on top of his head.
My head swayed with dizziness at the thought of what we now faced. Then something in my brain turned. Maybe the caffeine and cake sugar were now coursing through my veins, but the heaviness of what had just happened was replaced with a whirling ridiculousness.
I was never normally a ham, but for some reason, I felt so light-headed I turned to the camera.
“Women everywhere, take heart.” I turned to show Tim. “Today, I have literally brought a grown man to his knees. At the tile store!”
The crew burst out laughing and started clapping. Tim fell all the way to the floor, rolled onto his back, his arms flung to his sides.
“I surrender,” he called out from his position flat on the floor. “You are a better person than me, Tabitha. I’ll admit it to anyone. Just take pity on me. Please don’t make me do this again.”
I addressed the camera with a maniacal grin. “We’re going one more time.”