"I'll be finished in ten minutes." Mattie called out to him. She dipped the brush in the creamy paint and returned to cutting in the edges around the white window trim, feeling the glorious breeze and listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. She knew that she would never tire of that soothing cadence. She wiped her hand on her baggy light blue shirt, one of Clay's old button-down shirts that he'd found for her to wear while she painted. She'd put it on over one of her older black camisoles and rolled up the sleeves, and found her oldest black slacks, and that emsemble had served as her work clothes for the past week. She was putting the final touches above the countertop, when she saw him walk into the kitchen and put his hands on his hips and look around the room.
"Mattie, this looks great."
"I'm glad the color worked out."
"You know, avocado may be all the rage in appliance colors right now, but it's not one of my favorites, that's for sure," he laughed as he gazed around the kitchen, and she rinsed out the brush in the kitchen sink. "By choosing a lighter shade of avacado for the walls, you actually made the appliances look good. I'm impressed."
"Thanks, I like it too. The color really goes well with the white trim and cabinets. I can't wait for the paint to dry so I can hang those floral prints we found - the greens and red and tans will tie it all together." She sighed with satisfaction as she laid her clean paintbrush on the counter. "That's it for the painting. We're done!" she smiled up at him. "We've painted the entire house in a week, and I love it." She began to straighten up the paint supplies on the tarp in the middle of the kitchen floor, and she squealed as he reached over and grabbed her by the waist and turned her toward him. She bent her elbows and held her arms up so she wouldn't get paint on his jeans or black tee shirt.
"You have a smudge of paint on your chin, you know," he looked down at her, his lips pursed seriously as he studied her face, but his eyes crinkled. She laughed at him and handed him the small towel in her hand.
She watched his face as he very seriously wiped the paint from her chin, and tossed the towel with the rest of her supplies,then she rested her arms across his shoulders as they kissed, and she ran her fingers along the back of his short black hair. She pulled back and sighed as she eyed him, more than content with her life. Brooksford seemed like a distant memory to her now, and she'd found that she hadn't missed her old school in the least during the week since she'd left.
"Are you happy with your decision to come to Cape Breton?" He seemed to have understood her thoughts, and his deep voice was enticing as he brushed back strands that had come loose from her pony tail. He kissed her neck.
"Umm...let me think for a moment." He laughed at that, and she pulled back to gaze into his loving, warm eyes. "Clay, I consider it the best decision I've ever made. We're together, finally, in this beautiful place. You were right when you said that it was the most serene spot on earth."
"I'm overjoyed that you're happy." He kissed her softly, then turned her around again to face the living area. "Now, come in here and see how you like the slipcovers." They walked arm in arm into the living room, and stood in the dining area.
"You did a great job, Clay. I'm happy with the way the white slipcovers look against the light beige walls." she smiled at him, then turned around and put her hands on her hips, looking around her with a sense of satisfaction. "The whole first floor just looks so fresh and clean." The office areas had turned out perfectly. The day after she'd moved in, besides grocery shopping, they'd browsed through a used furniture store and found a smaller, round oak dining table, and an oak desk for her to use until Jerry and Fran brought hers, with shelves at the top and drawers on the bottom right, as well as several black bins to keep Clay's tubes of rolled-up drawings organized. After she'd carefully placed their framed family photos on her desk, on the side table, and on the rustic wood mantel, and hung her mother's paintings over the sofa and in their office area, this place was really beginning to reflect their personal styles, and turn into a home - their home. She grabbed the stack of throw pillows by the front door, and tossed them one by one to Clay, and he arranged them on the sofa, and laid one in the chair. Now, they just had to be on the lookout, over time, for more artwork to hang on the walls, and area rugs for the living room and bedroom.