When she finally fell still and looked around, she gasped. “Peter,” she breathed.
I grinned with pride and set her down. I’d been working tirelessly on the cabin these past couple of weeks, and I’d done it all without letting her get a good look at anything. The last time she’d dropped by for a visit, I’d had to cover my entire kitchen with plastic sheets that painters used, claiming I was just protecting the elderly couple’s counters and cupboards while I sanded drywall and polished the hardwood floors.
But really, I’d been gutting the entire kitchen. I stripped it down to the bones, applied fresh paint, a white tile backsplash, new countertops that looked like quartz but most definitely were not, and put new doors and drawers in. Everything was fresh and white and the newly polished appliances almost sparkled in the morning sun that streamed through the open screen door that led to the backyard.
Katie turned in a slow circle, soaking in the sight of all the work I’d done.
The floors had been polished and stained dark to hide the dings and dents and scratches I couldn’t buff out. I’d painted all the walls white except for the one accent wall in the living room, which I’d painted black. I liked the contrast and I’d been in the mood to take risks, and after seeing the painting Katie’s friend Kim had sent her, I thought it would look fantastic against a dark, dramatic backdrop.
Of course, that was me being optimistic that she would accept the offer I had lined up now that the place was in better shape.
I’d replaced the dingy old living-room furniture with pieces I’d ordered online that hadn’t been delivered until the end of this past week. Everything was fresh and beige, and they were blank canvases for Katie to fluff up with accent pillows or throw blankets.
I’d put on new sleek baseboards and window casings. I’d painted the tiled bathroom floor white and stenciled over top of it so it looked like brand new tiles. I’d bought a new white shower curtain and even painted the tub with porcelain paint, and it looked brand new. I’d buffed the countertops, changed the faucets, and replaced the mirror with an oval one with a black trim.
Katie moved through the house with a look of awe on her face. Every room impressed her, and when she went into the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway.
I’d gone a little overboard with this room. The walls were still white, like the rest of the place, but the wall behind the bed stood out because I’d gone to the length of putting up palm-leaf wallpaper. I’d painted the old bedframe and matching nightstands black for contrast. A dark green rug sat beneath the bed, and sheer white curtains hung in front of the large bay window that looked out over the front yard.
Katie turned to me. “Peter, this is incredible. How did you get all of this done by yourself?”
I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. When I started, I thought I would only do the painting and the floors, and if I had time for baseboards and such, I’d do that too. But once I started, I didn’t want to stop, and one idea bled into the next until I was in too deep not to go all in. Besides, you had to pull some long hours these last couple of weeks and I had the time.”
“It looks like a completely new house!”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I think so too.”
“It even smells better. Like fresh laundry and lemons.”
I chuckled and did not fess up to the fact that I’d bought candles and burned them before I left to pick her up so that it smelled nice in there. I wanted to make a good impression.
I wanted her to be able to see herself spending a lot of time here.
“It’s beautiful, Peter. Truly.”
“I’m glad you think so because I have more news.”
“Oh?”
I grinned down at her as her eyes flicked back and forth between mine. I clasped her hands in mine. “I bought this place off the owners.”
She blinked rapidly. “Pardon?”
“I bought it. This is mine. For good.”
Katie swallowed and her mouth worked as she tried to process what I was saying. “Hold on, so this means—”
“I’m not going back to LA. I can work from any where or be a handyman.”