Page 30 of Idle

“No. But it’s good enough. It’ll allow the kitchen to have a massive pantry. Bonus!”

“What if the judges don’t agree with you?”

I cross my hands over my chest. “What if they do?” His scowl spurs me on to add, “This competition won’t be won with small ideas. And this one was yours, might I remind you.”

“I don’t know.”

Hearing him waver, I jump in. “Great! We’ll move the laundry in here. Since we’re using a part of the bathroom, hook-ups won’t be a problem.”

“That’s true.”

“Settled. I’ll do the paperwork about it for Quinn. Let’s go back to the kitchen to figure out how we’re going to transform the added space into a pantry.” Everyone wants a pantry to store their stuff, especially with all the gadgets people use today. Bo and the Vitamix make an appearance in my mind. This is a good idea.

I brush past Jesse and, with a pep I didn’t feel earlier, rush into the newfound square footage. My mind pictures a pantry the entire length of the kitchen, filled with shelves. I race to my tote bag and pick up my design notebook. Within minutes, the pantry takes shape on the page.

My next question—how to get in here? I suppose we could put in a door on either end, but that’s expected. I want the wow factor. “Jesse?”

He doesn’t answer.

I walk out from the new pantry area and find him sitting on the sofa, staring at my painting of the living room’s layout. “Hey. I thought you were working on kitchen ideas.”

He points. “Upper and lower cabinets, big island. Use the tile from the patio. Stools of some sort.” His shoulders raise and lower.

What’s going on with him? He’s usually the upbeat one. I take a seat next to him. “Hey. Those are good thoughts. I bet your stools will make the entire room.”

“What do you have?”

I show him my design, holding my breath. I think it’s good, but what if I’m wrong? I’m basically pulling this stuff out of my ass.

He returns it back to me. With a warmth in his tone that was missing before, he says, “This looks great. Could sell a buyer on the entire apartment.”

My lungs expand to their fullest. I beam at my partner. “High praise.”

“It’s the truth.”

Not allowing his words to sink in, I plow ahead. “Only problem is how to enter? Doors on either end seem so, I don’t know, boring.”

Jesse snatches the drawing from my hands, his fingers tracing the shelving while his eyes bounce to the kitchen. “What if we expanded the kitchen all the way to the windows and push the dining area toward the living room a smidge. That would gain us another four feet of cabinetry, right?”

I guesstimate the measurement. “I think that’s about right.” What is he getting at? “It’ll be a huge kitchen.”

“May I see your design notebook? I have an idea.”

“Sure. Here you go.” I hand him the notebook.

He opens his palm, and I place my pencil in it, then he starts to draw. He’s remarkably talented. The kitchen takes shape, as does a door that he places next to the refrigerator—but concealed by paneling that mimics the rest of the cabinets.

My mouth drops open. “A hidden door?”

He smiles. “Could work, don’t you think?”

“Hell yes!” I throw my arms into the air and give my brilliant partner a hug. After a second, his arms close around me, and the zap missing from my contact with Bo this morning materializes. Vaulting back, I stare at his design. Once I can focus on it, I say, “I love this idea, Jesse. When someone finds the hidden pantry, they’ll be super excited.”

He clears his throat. “I’ve always been fascinated with surprise entrances. My sister—” He stops talking, then continues. “When we were kids, she always wanted to play hide-and-go-seek in the house. She found the best places to hide. I remember her telling me, ‘Jesse, not everything is what it appears. Look deeper.’”

His voice modulates into a much higher pitch when he imitates her. So cute. “That’s a good philosophy to have for life too.” He doesn’t talk about his family much. “What does your sister do?”

He swallows. In a low voice, he murmurs, “She died when she was seventeen.”

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