I had spent the next few days in a daze, wandering through my parent's empty house. I kept expecting to see them every time I opened one of the bedroom doors. But nobody was there. They weren't coming back and there was nothing I could do about it.
I don't know how it started but one morning I woke up and knew what I needed to do. And I wouldn't stop until it was complete.
I was going to finish the house myself.
The only problem was I knew nothing about renovating a house. In fact, the only thing I knew about house repair was calling the landlord to get it fixed.
But I didn't want help. I needed to do it all myself.
I went to the hardware store and walked aimlessly through the aisles. I didn't even know what I needed. I was sure my father had plenty of tools in the garage but I didn't even check what he had before I left for the store.
A clerk found me staring at different types of wrenches. “Can I help you with something?”
He was younger, probably a sophomore in college. His eyes scanned my body up and down. I was used to men doing that all the time. Sometimes I liked it and sometimes I didn't. It had to do with what type of guy was doing it.
I smiled and shrugged. “I'm not sure what I'm looking for.”
The clerk returned the smile. “What type of project are you working on?”
“House stuff. To be honest, I don't even know where to start. The whole place is a disaster.”
“Want some advice?”
I nodded. I definitely needed some or else I'd be haunting the halls of this store forever.
The clerk took a step closer to me and I didn't move away. “Start small and go from there. Pick the room with the least amount of work.”
“I think they all need an equal amount of work,” I replied.
The cute guy laughed. “Okay then, start with a bedroom. You really only have to deal with the flooring, walls, and ceiling. No appliances, toilets, tubs or sinks.”
The thought of having to renovate the kitchen or bathroom made me shiver. “Yeah the guest room might be the easiest.”
The clerk led me to another aisle. “Then I recommend some paint. It's hard to mess up painting a wall.”
“Trust me, I can mess up anything.”
The guy took a second to write on a scrap of paper and handed it to me. “Call me if you have any questions or need help. My name's John.”
I took the piece of paper with his number on it. “I'm Henry. Thanks again.” We shook hands and he left me to pick a color for the wall.
Twenty minutes later and I had narrowed down the color between three shades of white. I don't know why it mattered to me so much but I needed it to be perfect.
And eggshell was the perfect color.
I left the store with paint, some brushes and a mission to complete. It also helped that a cute guy gave me his number. I thought of calling him when I was all done and showing him the progress I made on the house.
But first things first.
–
I never could imagine that painting just one bedroom could take so long. I had started in the early morning and it was hours after the sun set when I finally finished. But without sunlight it was hard to tell if I had done a good enough job. Only tomorrow would tell.
I was all ready to just pass out when my phone rang. A name I hadn't heard from in an eternity flashed across my screen. I was so exhausted that I didn't even want to deal with it.
I hit the answer button. “Hi, Fiona!”
“It's been a long time, Henry! Why didn't you tell me you were back home?” She sounded as bubbly as ever. Nothing had changed since we graduated from high school.
Fiona was one of the “popular” girls and that in turn made me semi-popular in high school. I had too many friends and so many commitments that I couldn't keep track of everything. It was a stark contrast to my college experience with almost zero friends unless you counted my roommate who barely spoke a word to me. For some reason my high school was more accepting of me than college. Go figure.
“Sorry but I only recently got back,” I replied. “How did you find out I was home?”
“Oh you know, someone saw you walking around and word got back to me.”
I rolled my eyes. Word always got back to Fiona. I shouldn't have been surprised. Fiona always had her finger on the pulse of this town.
An awkward moment of silence passed. I didn't know what to say to her. We hadn't really talked in four years.
Fiona finally spoke up, “What are you doing back home?”
I contemplated telling her the truth. But I didn't want any pity. Especially from Fiona. “I moved back after graduating.”
“That's terrific! What are you doing tonight? We should go dancing!”
The last thing I wanted to do after a long day of painting was standing on my feet all night. “I actually have plans tonight, Fiona. Maybe some other time?”
“Then tomorrow night,” she replied.
I shook my head through the phone but she didn't let me get a word in.
“I won't take no for an answer. We have to go out and celebrate.”
A sigh escaped my lips. “Fine. We can go out tomorrow.”
“Perfect! We'll go to Club Titan.”
I hung up the phone and wandered into my parents' bedroom. I collapsed onto a sleeping bag next to their king-sized bed. It didn't feel right sleeping in their bed. The ground wasn't the most comfy but my tired body didn't care.
I could fall asleep on a bed of spikes if I had to.