“He’s still working on another job. I offered to help out. It’s the only way he could’ve gotten the project done right away.” Taylor shifted his weight and added offhandedly, “To be honest, we pushed your job in front of another project.”
“Oh.” Harper felt instantly grateful. “That’s great.” She tightened her towel around herself, even as she wanted to sink right into the floor.
When his father had stopped by the day before, he’d taken a quick look at the kitchen and offered a reasonable estimate for the job. When she’d asked if he could begin right away, he’d replied that she was in luck. He had some extra help now. She didn’t imagine that the “extra help” would be Taylor.
Dora burst into the room, returning from her run. She was drenched in sweat, her face as pink as her soaked T-shirt. Wiping her brow with the back of her arm, she hollered, “I’m sweating like a two-dollar whore on nickel night!”
Harper stifled a laugh. She glanced at Taylor and saw his lips twitch in a smile.
“Oh.” Dora’s eyes went wide when she spotted Harper in a towel standing beside a strange man. “I didn’t know you had a guest.”
Harper nodded her head in Taylor’s direction. “This is Taylor. The man who befriended Nate and Carson at the Dolphin Research Center?”
Recognition dawned on Dora’s face and she hurried over to his side, her grin widening. “You’re that Taylor? Well, I’ll be. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Lord, as far as my son is concerned, you walk on water. He doesn’t make friends easily, so high marks to you.” Dora wiped her palm on her running shorts and offered it to Taylor.
While they began talking, Harper muttered, “I’m going to run off and get dressed.” She hurried to the bathroom she shared with Mamaw and stared at herself in the large Venetian mirror that hung over the sink. She saw a slender woman in a towel with red hair slicked back and freckles from the sun popping out across her nose. What were the odds she’d again meet up with Taylor looking a mess?
She hurried to dress but took some time to apply a touch of makeup, leaning forward closer to the mirror. A few new lines bordered her eyes, too. She cursed, hearing her mother’s voice in her ear: Stay out of the sun. You have milky-white James skin. Harper gently added more moisturizer over the offending lines with her fingertip. Turning from the mirror, she went directly to the armoire in her bedroom and pulled out a soft green summer shift, simple and cool for a hot day. She slipped it over her head and smiled, pleased with how the vibrant hue complemented her peachy coloring.
When she returned to the kitchen, she found Dora and Taylor huddled over the kitchen table studying paint samples. Harper approached slowly, eager to join in. She cleared her throat. “What do you have there?”
Taylor immediately turned to face her. “You have to pick out your colors.”
“Oh. Of course.” She moved closer to look at the samples spread over the table.
Dora stepped toward her, the challenge of a new decorating project shining in her eyes. She was still in her running clothes but her face was no longer flushed. “Mmm, you smell good. I, on the other hand, must smell like Patty’s pig. Anyway, come take a look. I found some paint colors I used for the cottage. I think they’d look beautiful here. They’re soft and beachy.”
Harper drew close to the table, feeling a clenching in her gut. She appreciated Dora’s help, but she was also aware that Dora might take over the kitchen project as she had done with the garden. This was her project and Dora tended to be a general, making Harper the private. “I have a few ideas.” Harper had spent hours searching online for kitchen decor over the past few days and even had a file of printed pictures.
“Of course you do,” Dora replied reassuringly. “Taylor told me you wanted white cabinets. That’s what I painted the kitchen cabinets at the cottage. So I thought I’d show you the sample colors I selected. If you like them, fine. If not, fine.” Dora glanced up at the clock. “Here.” She handed the color chart to Harper. “I’ve got to scoot. Devlin is taking Nate and I for a final fishing trip before school starts. I’ll be back in a few hours, if you have any questions.” She winked at Harper. “Have fun.”
Harper flushed, hoping Taylor didn’t notice the wink. While she’d been anxious for her sister to leave them only a moment before, now she keenly felt Dora’s absence. It was just she and Taylor again. She suddenly felt awkward.
Taylor turned back to the table. “I’ve painted both of these whites before in other houses I’ve worked on. This one is very bright, the kind you see on all the prefab cabinets. This one”—he lifted a creamier white—“is softer. I think you’ll like it better in this older house, especially with all the natural light you’ll be getting from the windows. You don’t want it too bright in here. Hold on. I’ll paint a swatch on the cabinets so you can judge for yourself. You have to see the paint on the walls. It’s always different than the swatch or in the can.”
She watched, curious, as he pulled out his pocketknife, then lowered to his haunches to pry open the sample cans of paint that Dora had provided. Harper noticed his hands had a few scratches, the kind one got from outdoor work.
After stirring the paint with a few swirls of the paint stick, he rose and fetched a paintbrush from his supplies. “You’ll want to stand back. Wouldn’t want to get paint on that pretty dress.”
She was pleased he’d noticed. For her part, she couldn’t help but notice how his white T-shirt, thin and torn, stretched across his back and the muscles of his forearms flexed as he painted one large square of paint on one cabinet door, then a second color on another. She usually dated the more slender, intellectual type of man, whom she met through work, family, or friends. But secretly she’d always been physically attracted to a well-muscled man. A workingman. She stepped back as he’d suggested, as much for a distraction from staring at him as to keep her dress paint-free.
When he finished, he came to her side, and they stood almost shoulder to shoulder and together studied the colors.
“You’re right,” she told him at length. “The creamy white is better.”
“The other is too Home Depot.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been to a Home Depot.”