“Okay, point me in the direction of the bathroom. I’ll change then be at your beck and call.”
She shocks the shit out of me by going up on her toes and brushing a soft kiss across my cheek. “You may regret being at my beck and call, but I’ll take it.”
Without another word, she twists and pulls me behind her, leading me to the bathroom.
“Grace, I’m not kidding, if you make me move that picture one more time, I’m walking out the door,” Logan protests loudly.
“It’s not right, but I think if we put that awful sculpture next to the landscaped marsh, it will look much better.”
Rodney snorts, turning his back, and I take a sip of my water to conceal my own smile. Watching the two of them for the last few hours has been the best entertainment I’ve had in a long time.
At first, Grace was very reserved, trying to ease me into the work. But when Logan tore a baseball size hole in the front wall trying to remove a bolt, she lost her shit. That’s when the gloves came off. They started in on each other like only siblings can do, and I sat back to enjoy the show.
Rodney joined us after returning from the café and offered his help as well. He took off his own suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and together we had all the outgoing paintings neatly piled exactly where Grace instructed. Then we went about spackling and sanding the walls.
In the last five and a half hours, we accomplished almost everything on Grace’s to-do list until Logan’s hole-in-the-wall debacle.
He argued he was food deprived until she pointed out the three large sandwiches he ate.
Then he tried to say it was a faulty bolt until she corrected him about the other forty removed during the day.
Finally, he relented and walked out, only to return fifteen minutes later with a twelve pack of beer in a cooler and a chilled bottle of wine.
She forgave easily and started hanging the new shelves. All was right again until now. Tensions are starting to run high again.
“Hey, man, you want to sit for a few minutes? I’ll take over the placements,” I offer, getting to my feet.
“Gladly, let’s see if she yells at you.” He goes to the cooler and twists open a beer.
“Of course I won’t yell at him. He’s being nice, and he’s our guest. Poor Rodney is probably going to quit his job because he’s been forced to spend the day with us crazies!” She wags a finger at her brother.
“No, Grace, I can promise you this is the most fun I’ve had in a while,” Rodney assures her, coming to us. “Give me the measurements. I’ll finish the shelves.”
“See, Peach Princess, I’ve always told you I’m fun to be around. It’s you who’s the insane creature of the family.”
Grace’s head snaps toward Logan, and her eyes narrow. “Rodney probably has a contact high from the paint. That’s the only explanation for thinking this is fun. And don’t call me that.”
“Peach Princess?” I raise an eyebrow in question.
“It’s a silly title from home. Logan thinks it’s hilarious to make fun of me.”
“Hardly, our little Grace is the town Peach Princess. It’s her moniker when we’re at home. No one really calls her Grace.”
Finally! Here’s a chance for me to ease the conversation to her without seeming too invasive. “I’d like to hear this story.”
“It’s boring and completely embarrassing,” she tells me.
“I’ll tell it,” Logan offers.
“No, you won’t.”
He ignores her and starts to talk. “In our hometown, the Peach Princess is a very big deal. The title—”
“Stop!” She throws out her hand in the air at him. “You’ve already messed it up.”
“So, you tell it then.”
She looks at the three of us and sighs. “Fine, but y’all get back to work.”