Page 43 of Idle

Not even Father could wipe my smile from my face. “Thank you. I think our trip today inspired me.”

“I’d say.”

“So, think we can do it? Make our primary bedroom one for the history books?”

He’s silent. His foot rocks several times as he contemplates my ask. His khaki eyes meet mine. “We could lose the show because of this.”

“Or we could win big,” I counter.

Arguing from across the apartment reaches our ears. “Seems like Mary Ellen and Bo are having a difference of opinion.”

I giggle. “At least we’re discussing our differences like adults.” It hits me then that wearehaving an adult conversation. Jesse treats me like a full-fledged adult. Which makes me want to be one. I straighten my shoulders. Iamone. An adult who has a goal to win this competition.

“True.” Jesse’s gaze returns to the sketches, and he flips through them. “Do you think you’re up for building the side tables?”

My head bobs. I made tables in the house I flipped, so I know what I’m doing with their basic structure. I flip the pages in my hands to the ornate bed Jesse sketched. We have to do this. “I am.”

“Call me crazy—”

“Crazy!”

He extends his hand. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

I reach over and we shake. Excitement bounces in my body. Finished with our drawings and unable to begin anything until the morning, I stand. “I feel like a big meal to celebrate. This will be the last night we’re together under this roof before the final round starts.”

Jesse joins me and we walk to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, “What’s in here?”

“No idea.” I’m not in the mood for another casserole. “How about we get takeout?”

“I could go for that. Something fancy as a way to end this on a bang. How about French?”

“Sounds good.” I pull out the box of menus Renovation TV left for us, considering we don’t have internet. What a pain! Although Jesse made it fun this afternoon. “Pick a place while I ask Bo and Mary Ellen if they’d like to join us.”

I pat myself on the back for finally learning Bo’s ex-wife’s name, and since she usually takes charge of our meals, I’m sure she’d appreciate the night off. Especially after their fight, which finally died down.

I enter the exercise room, which they’ve appropriated for themselves. Mary Ellen’s sitting on the weight bench while Bo’s pacing next to the punching bag. “Hi guys. Jesse and I are thinking about ordering dinner in tonight as a way to kick off the final round. Would you like to join us?”

Bo steps forward. “I’m in.”

Mary Ellen rises. “Sounds good.”

“Come into the kitchen and pick your poison,” I laugh. “Jesse’s selecting the menu.”

We cross the apartment and surround the island. Once we make our selections, Jesse calls Quinn to place our orders since our phones won’t allow an outgoing call to the restaurant.

While we wait, the two guys go over to the sofas and turn on the TV. I remain in the kitchen with Mary Ellen, who takes a bottle of prosecco out of the fridge. “Everything okay with you guys? We heard you yelling at each other.”

The sparkling wine pops and she rushes over to the sink to catch the overflow. I pull four flutes out of the cabinet. “This is how we design. We’ve almost finished all the details now.” She pours the bubbly into the first glass.

But for them being divorced, and Bo taking me out on a couple of dates, I would think they were still in love. Fight when they’re alone and appear happy in public, like my parents. Although, they don’t have the happiness in public part down.

“Then I’m happy for you.”

She pours the next glass. “I suppose we work on some level.”

Her comment makes me wonder about her feelings for him—not for the first time. I hold up the third glass. This time I decide not to hold back. “Do you want to get back together with him?”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and shakes her head. “No. I’m done with him. He cheated on me during our marriage all the time.”

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