Page 23 of Organized Chaos

Phillip followed her around to the back of the truck and they managed to get the dresser into the garage without dropping it or breaking any bones.

Sarah put her hands on her hips and nodded her satisfaction. “Perfect. And look.” She pointed at their feet. “I already had the drop cloth down so we don’t get paint on the floor.”

Why did he think that if he looked under the drop cloth he’d find paint splattered across the entire floor? Probably because even from here, in the middle of the garage, he spotted streaks of paint on every wall. Even behind the shelves that were far too empty.

He did his best not to stare at the chaos and focus on Sarah. She looked adorable as she rubbed her hands together, a bright smile drawing him in. “So, what are we doing?”

She ran her hand across the dresser and lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know. What do you think this piece should become?”

“Uh? A dresser?” He picked up a can of hideous green paint and set it on the bottom shelf, alongside a can of spray glue and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Seriously? He could barely think past the random items littering the floor. Why have the shelves if she wasn’t going to use them?

Sarah’s hands went to her hips in that way she had of appearing disproving even though her smile never wavered. “Okay. That was an unfair question.” She took his hand and led him toward the far side of the garage. “Let me show you what I do.”

In a few swift moves, she’d ripped paint splattered sheets off several items and stood back. The sheets were bundled in her arms and trailing to the floor. One wrong step and she’d fall into a heap.

Phillip took his time examining the furniture. An old wheelbarrow that looked ready to become a flowerbed. Sarah had painted daisies all around a green background. Okay, now he knew where the green paint had been used. It was cute, in an urban chic/rustic kind of way. He pressed a finger to his lips to keep from saying anything. He needed to organize his thoughts before admitting anything.

He walked around a cabinet that had been transformed into a rolling cart. Everything was bright and cheerful, a complete change from what he suspected were dark tones of oak and maybe even mahogany. He wasn’t sure how he felt about these original pieces being taken apart and painted over.

“What do you think?” Sarah actually sounded nervous about his answer.

Phillip faced her and forced out a grin. “What about a changing table? The drawers would be handy for holding diapers, and the piece is strong enough.”

She rubbed her finger down the bridge of her nose and tipped her head one way and then the other. Her brows pinched together, and her lips pursed.

Did she hate the idea?

Phillip held his breath and waited.

Finally, she nodded and tossed the sheets over her shoulder. “We’ll do it in neutral tones. Yellow and mint green. Maybe paint some animals around the base.”

“Or we could leave it. Original is in style right now.”

Sarah was shaking her head before he finished talking. “That’s not what I do. My whole brand is this.” She held out her arms and turned a slow circle. “Refurbish. Rebrand. Rebuild.”

He did his best to hide the horror tracking through him. He had nothing against change, only the covering up of such magnificent artwork.

“You can set up anywhere.” Sarah waved her hand around. “We’ll be working mainly in the center here. And once we’re done, you can walk me through how I might be able to record myself while I work.”

Phillip took another look around and found a single shelf nailed into the wall about head height. He situated his phone on the shelf and angled it to have a good view of the dresser and a large portion of the garage. “Where do we start?”

She tossed a rag at him. “Cleaning. Can’t paint a dirty surface. Be like putting lipstick on a pig, as my grandmother used to say.”

Phillip reached for a can of furniture polish and sprayed a heavy dose across the top of the dresser. Instead of the thin line of cleaner he’d expected, foam covered the surface.

“Stop.” Sarah grabbed the can from him and chucked it in the corner. “Hurry. Get it off before it sets.” She ran for the sheets on the floor, grabbed one, and used it like a shovel to scoop the foam up into a heap then wad it up in the sheet.

Phillip stood, arms by his sides and mouth hanging open. “What was that?”

“Foam sealant. I use it to seal cracks in some of my metal pieces.” She kicked the sheet aside and ducked down to eye level with the dresser. “I think we got it all.”

“I think we should leave that off your video.” The last thing Sarah needed was to look incompetent on the internet. He knew what it was like when the trolls came for you, saying hateful things and making you feel like garbage. He couldn’t bear to have Sarah experience that.

She pressed another can at him. “Try that.”

This time, he read the can before pressing the button. The lemon tang filled the air and took him back to when he used to help his granny dust the living room. Phillip started at the top and worked his way across the surface until it gleamed.

Sarah focused on the sides and the legs. Each swipe revealed details he’d forgotten. The ornate leaves that twined around the rounded feet emerged under Sarah’s cloth. She traced the leaves and a groove appeared between her eyes. “This is amazing.” She stood and took a step back. “We—” Her foot caught on a paint can and tipped it over.

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