I had finally found the perfect apartment. Even though it was a bit more than I wanted to spend, I knew as soon as I walked in that it was mine. I moved in full of decorating ideas and motivation, hell bent on starting my "new life" the right way. Then I slept for a week straight. Then I went back to work. Six months later and I was still living out of boxes. Then it hit me again; the motivation. I was coming up on another much needed week off of work, and decided that it was finally time to make this apartment my home.
It really was in a perfect location, and the building had some fantastic perks. The apartment across from me was vacant; the owner not wanting to live in it but not wanting to be rid of it, either. Next to me was an older couple that traveled often, visiting with family all over the country. When they were home, Mrs. Graham would bring me homemade blueberry muffins and bread that was absolutely delicious. The apartment above me housed a small family, but they were relatively quiet except for the occasional pitter patter of little feet running around.
And then there was Ben. Living in the apartment diagonally from me, he always seemed to be handy whenever I was carrying something heavy. The first time he helped me was with groceries, and when the handle broke on one of the bags and my pack of chicken fell to the floor of the hallway that separated our apartments, he picked it up and commented on how he made an amazing chicken alfredo. I commented that I was a horrible cook, thanked him after he deposited my groceries on the kitchen counter, and then he took his leave.
The next time, I was carrying a small end table that someone had left out with the garbage. He came out and took it from me, commenting on how he had once saved an entire living room set from the garbage man and restored it to it's former beauty. I had planned on painting it and putting a plant on it, and told him as such. He came in and placed it in the corner I asked him to, I thanked him, and he took his leave.
In the six months since I had moved in, Ben had enlightened me on many of his skills, be it plumbing, art, how fast he could read a book, downing beers, and even how well he could wrap a present. It came to no surprise to me as I walked towards my door with two gallons of paint and a bag full of supplies that Ben presented himself, reaching for the paint that I had already began to hand to him. "Let me guess; you're a genius when it comes to house painting?"
He grinned at me as he fell into step beside me, allowing me to dig in my purse for my keys. "Why, yes. How did you know?" I chuckled as I unlocked the door, entering the room and holding the door open for him to come in, since it tended to close all by itself. He made his way into the living room while I turned to the kitchen to deposit my purse on the counter. "Well, my oh my. Looks like someone is finally going to make this place a home."
I walked into the living room and flung my jacket over my plastic covered furniture, all cluttered in the middle of the large room. I stood beside him and put my hands on my hips, looking up at the high ceilings and letting out a sigh. "It's time."
"Well, I have a prior engagement this morning, but I'll be back around three-ish to give you a hand," he said as he made his way to the door.
"Oh, Ben, no. I mean...wait...you know what? I would love the help. And it's about time you show me some of these skills you keep going on and on about."
He had turned around at the door when I had started to speak, and smiled when I agreed to take his help. "Might be closer to three thirty-ish," he said over his shoulder right before he closed the door behind him. I smiled, and then turned back to my high ceilings and the three windows I needed to tape up. I could feel the look of determination take over my face and I turned towards the bedroom to change. I put on some old jeans and a tank top, but it was still a little chilly since it was early spring, and found my favorite, old Alice and Chains long sleeve shirt that had seen better days.
I had finished a lot of prep work the night before while I couldn't sleep, so I was able to get right to taping up the windows. I opened them, and then went to the kitchen to get the tape. I grabbed my MP3 player and put it on random, placing it in the boom box looking speaker set my sister had given me for my birthday. I smiled as the first song boomed through, heavy and fast paced metal that instantly got me pumped up and ready to conquer.
Before I knew it I had all the windows taped up, the tarps placed on the floor, and I was working on painting around the third large window. It had warmed up as the day progressed, and had to take off my long sleeve. I was singing along to a song in full gusto when I heard another voice join in the chorus and turned around. Ben was crouched down and stirring the gallon of paint I had opened, smiling at me as he sang along in a loud and clear voice.
I came down the ladder and went over to the boom box, turning the volume down just enough to make conversation possible. "Good at singing too, eh?" I smiled, and he smiled back while shrugging a little.
"What can I say?" He pulled out a paint pan and started putting together a long arm roller that he must have brought over with him. He was dressed just as messy as me, his jeans stained with paint and oil and his shirt matching. I had an unfortunate weakness for forearms, and I could see the muscles of his working as he put the roller together and had to turn my gaze elsewhere, otherwise I would have become utterly distracted.
He poured some paint into the paint pan and I knew he was ready to get down to business. I turned the music back up and went back to my ladder. We spent the rest of the afternoon painting our asses off. We worked well together. My music went back and forth between metal, 90's rock, and female angst. There were many times I heard Ben laugh at a song and I would look over at him and he would be looking at me, shaking his head. Other times he would be singing along and bobbing his head along to the beat.
As the sun started to set we were finished, and Ben took the pans and brushes down to the basement to rinse off. I tidied up everything else, and when I had finished he had returned. I was looking at the room, turning in slow circles to take it in. I had chosen a deep red; not too dark and not to bright. It was perfect and I smiled. "It really is an amazing color, Marie. Especially with the sun coming through the way it is right now."
I was standing in the light of one of the windows, and looked over my shoulder to smile at him. He smiled back, and then looked around at the walls again. "So, I am pretty sure I owe you dinner for your labor," I said. "Should I order Chinese? I don't feel like going out with paint in my hair." I made my way to the kitchen, and heard him follow slowly behind me.
"If we are getting Chinese, then I insist on going to pick it up from a place I know. It's the best."
I laughed a little and dug into my purse to get him my credit card. When I turned to hand it to him he was right behind me, and I was startled for a moment by his closeness. I held the card up between us, and looked up slightly to make eye contact with him. "Just tell me it isn't too far. I'm starving." Being this close I could notice the flecks of green in his eyes, and a few little dots of paint on his face. "You've got red on you," I said while pointing at his face, quoting a line from Shaun of the Dead. He chuckled, reaching up and rubbing the side of his face, looking down at his hand to see if it had come off.
I took the opportunity to shuffle away from him, and made my way out of the kitchen. "Get some booze!" I yelled over my shoulder and made my way to the bathroom for a shower. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, listening to hear him close the door before I started to undress. This may have been one of the most enjoyable afternoons I had spent with a man. The closeness of him had completely thrown me off, and I had to remember that Ben was just a nice guy, helping a neighbor out.
I took a hot shower, soaking for a bit and getting as much of the paint off as my patience would allow. When I was in the bedroom I heard the front door open and Ben's voice announcing his presence. I finished dressing in pajama pants and a tank top, throwing a thin sweater on and putting my hair up in a messy ponytail.
When I came out Ben was taking the lids off of the carryout food that he had laid out on a tarp we hadn't used. He must have ran home for a quick shower before bringing the food over because his hair was still wet and he had on clean sweat pants and a t-shirt.
"Awwwwww...well aren't we romantic," I said before thinking, and he grinned as he reached behind him and presented a bottle of wine.
