Page 71 of Ripple Effect

“Just loading in the furniture for the Harrison house. You?”

“Calling to pick a bone with you.”

“Oh?” Seeing a minor catastrophe in the making, I say, “Hold on, Josh. Benny, no. That goes into the son’s bedroom. This is the guest bedroom.”

“Sorry, Ms. Sullivan.” Benny grins sheepishly.

I look at the complicated picture pattern he hung up. “Not a problem. Nice job on laying out the pattern. If you can replicate that, we’ll be golden.”

He gives me an enormous smile and an unexpected compliment. “That’s why we like you, Ms. Sullivan.”

Taken aback, I ask curiously, “Why?”

“Because you could just yell. Instead you always find a way to make us feel good about ourselves.” Benny begins to peel off the delicate nonstick template I’d had made so hanging the art would be easier. “I’ll just go get this hung in the right room.”

Forgetting for a moment Josh is on the line, I bask in the genuine compliment. Then I lift the phone back to my ear. “After that, you can peck at my carcass, Josh. I just got the loveliest compliment.”

“I heard. And it’s well deserved, Libs. You remind me more and more of Nonna each day with the way you inspire the people around you.”

“Damn you,” I curse him. “Of all the things you could possibly say to get the waterworks started.” I begin to sniffle. Patting my dress slacks, I realize I don’t have a tissue. I slide the back of my hand under my eyes.

“It’s the truth. So is the fact I’m going to enjoy making you repaint Sydney’s bedroom walls because she decided to color them with the pack of Sharpies you gave her.”

I try to stifle the giggle that image evokes, but I can’t. “I tried to tell you she wasn’t interested in horses.”

“Next time, how about giving her paper?” he says exasperatedly.

“I did.” Pursing my lips, it comes to me. “Mom said last week her antique Waterford vase was filled to the brim with perfectly round circles of construction paper. Do you think your little darling used the hole punch to fill it up?”

“How long did it take her to calm down?”

“From laughing?”

Josh groans in my ear. “Jesus. It’s like living with you all over again.”

“Except you can’t go telling on Mom about her because she’s all yours,” I singsong. Leaving the guest bedroom, I receive a ping. “Hold on a moment, okay?”

“Sure.”

Pulling up my texts, I see there’s one from Rebecca, which I’ll read later. I’m sure it’s just another extension of Cal’s trip—which has already gone two weeks past due. I haven’t seen my husband in over a month. There’s a new one from Quincy Harrison, the divorced single dad who owns the home I’m redecorating. Quickly reading it, I mutter, “Fuck,” before calling out, “Everyone, the homeowner wants to be in with his sonthis weekend. There’s a bonus for everyone if we can get the home complete before he stops by at 5:00.” It’s now 10:30. “Think we can do it?”

Frank calls back, “Step it up, boys and girls. We all know what kind of bonuses Libby offers. That’s cash plus a cake, in case you don’t remember.” There’s a cheer from everyone in hearing distance. “No more mistakes,” he says firmly. To me he assures me, “No problem.”

I shoot a quick text to Quincy, letting him know to drop by after work, before resuming my call with Josh. “Listen, we just hit a major deadline. The homeowner wants delivery tonight.”

“And this is where I let you go. You’re not planning on driving home after working all day though?” The care and concern I feel from my brother both warms and pains me.

It should be what I receive from my husband, but he’s too busy halfway around the world chasing his own dreams to hear about mine anymore. I shake my head. “No, I have the hotel through the weekend, but if we do finish tonight, I’ll drive back in the morning.”

“Good. How about bringing your painting arm this weekend?”

I laugh, as intended. “Goodbye, Josh.” Pressing End, I begin to find a room where I can focus on the details that make this a design that gives you the sense of déjà vu—the feeling like you’ve lived here before.

Which is exactly why I’m hired.

* * *

Quincy holdsup a glass of wine and taps it against mine. “Thank you, Elizabeth. EJ and I are going to be very happy there. It’s like…”