Jackie

Leo was like a lovely secret that I could treasure in private like Gollum and his ring. Our date had been perfect, and we had a brief, flirtatious chat on the phone before he left for his road trip. I found myself smiling at random times, and Hannah wondered why I was in such a good mood. Then she tried to take advantage by asking for a ridiculously expensive record player that one of her friends had. She didn’t even have any vinyl records.

Dating with kids seemed endlessly complicated, both logistically and morally. When do I tell them I’m dating? At what point would I introduce them to Leo? Heck, would we even make it to that point?

Leo was so intriguing. He was obviously smart, but he had a sense of humour too. And he was different. Perhaps because he was French, he was more romantic. He said such poetic things, like calling me a beautiful woman. It had been ages since I felt so attractive and alive. I hugged myself and grinned.

And now that I had the Vancouver Vice schedule committed to memory, it was time to finish up his apartment. I had a sense of what Charlotte was like so I was inspired to finish up her room. Leo had turned into a completely different person when he talked about her—warm and adorable. She looked so pretty in the photo, like a sweet baby doll in her dress and hat. But he’d mentioned how shy she was.

I tried to slap down the maternal feelings that were bubbling up in me. It felt so odd to be attracted to Leo, who also came with a daughter. I wanted to like both of them, and of course, I wanted both of them to like me. Leo did like me, I could tell that already, but how much did he like me? Ugh, that sounded so juvenile. Dealing with these issues in my forties was not something I had ever anticipated.

After dropping the kids at school, I went straight to Leo’s apartment. Just going inside was different now. I had a sense of excitement. Leo wasn’t here, but his essence was. Ugh. I gave myself a mental head slap. Jackie, grow up!

I painted a lilac feature wall in Charlotte’s room and set up her little white spool bed with a multi-coloured quilt and pillows. I added a fat stuffed cat to the bed. Then I hung the three little cat paintings I’d done for her. They looked perfect. I’d found a tiny chest of drawers with a pull out shelf that became a desk. Not that she’d have homework, but she might want to draw or play.

I had no reason to go into Leo’s bedroom but I did anyway. It was surprisingly tidy. The office closet was open and he had arranged a set of labelled binders on the top shelf. He was very organized. I peeked in his closet and saw a row of suits, which ran the neutral gamut from navy to grey. Then I closed the closet door, feeling guilty. I was a snoopy creep.

I pulled out my iPhone and began taking photos of all the rooms. Fiona was supposed to meet me here to inspect and approve my final payment. Right on time, she knocked on the door and walked in.

“Hey, Jackie. Time to see how you did.”

She marched around and did a complete inspection. Like Wayne, she opened drawers and poked her nose in everywhere. But unlike Wayne, she was very enthusiastic. “It looks great in here. But now for the million-dollar question: how did you do budget-wise?”

“Here are all my receipts. I finished Charlotte’s room today, so that’s everything.” I handed her my little folder. I waited while she shuffled through the papers and got to my summary in the back.

“Holy moly. You came in five dollars under that minuscule budget. Wayne was already impressed, and he hasn’t even seen the final product.”

“Wayne is impressed? When he was here, all he said was how unfortunate it was that the place wasn’t finished,” I said.

Fiona smiled. “That’s Wayne Harris’s way. He believes that too much praise means you’ll want a raise. You should have heard him bragging about how he found you and you did a bang-up job. Is the client happy?”

“Yes. He said I had planned for his every comfort.” I didn’t want to think about that idea too much. Oh hey, coach, would that new bed look better with me in it? I blushed. Pink was becoming my permanent complexion colour.

“That’s wonderful. You’re definitely going to get more work.” She grinned. “Let’s be honest here. One of my long-standing battles with Wayne is about adding more style to our places. But he believes it’s going add to costs.”

She walked around Charlotte’s room and gestured to the paintings. “But you’ve done both—style and low cost! This proves my point. This fall, we’re going to be furnishing a set of extended stay apartments, but instead of executive suites, we’re doing family units. Wayne thinks it’s an untapped market. You’d be the perfect assistant, you have a knack for making things homey. And this little girl’s room is perfect. The six-year-old in me would have died for a room like this.”

I flushed at all this praise. “Are you serious? I would love to do that job. I have kids, so jobs with flexible timing are a godsend.”

“Wayne’s going to squeal, but I’ll take your salary out of the money I’d be saving. A lot of times we’re forced to use generic pieces because they’re available and inexpensive.”

“If you can give me a list of what we’ll need, I can start picking things up over the summer. Some of the things here are second-hand pieces that I fixed up.”

Fiona nodded. “I suspected that, but they look great. And the whole distressed look is better for families anyway. Nobody wants to worry about wrecking some pristine place, and we certainly don’t want to have to replace things all the time. You’re a magician, Jackie.”

Wow, getting praise for something I’d done. Not as Brent’s wife or ex-wife. Not as Hannah’s mom or Tristan’s mom, or any of the other labels that got attached to me. Me, Jacqueline Wagner. The accomplishment felt pretty damn good.