Read Online Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes by Denise Grover Swank - Free Book Online
Authors: Denise Grover Swank
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kitchen table against the wall, I scooted the sofa to the door and promptly wedged it in the doorway.
Crappy doodles .
I went out the seldom-used front door and tried pulling from the outside, with little success. Lodging my shoulder underneath, I tried to stand, hoping that might unwedge it.
“What on earth are you doin’?” Joe asked behind me.
Startled, I screamed and fell on my butt. “Why do you keep sneakin’ up on me like that?”
He laughed. “I didn’t ‘sneak up on you,’ I merely walked over to see what you were doin’. What are you doin’?”
I started to get up, surprised when he reached down to help me. “What does it look like I’m doin’?”
“It looks like you’re tryin’ to injure yourself removin’ that sofa from your house.”
I scowled at him. “It’s covered in blood and I can’t look at it one more minute. I had to get it out.”
“Well, why didn’t you come and ask me for help?”
I raised my eyebrows, stumped. “Honestly, it never occurred to me.”
He grimaced and shook his head. “You need to angle it more, then it should come right out. Go in the house and take the back side. I’ll take this end.”
Once we got it outside Joe asked, “Now where?” Joe asked.
“I dunno. I hadn’t thought that far. My entire goal centered around gettin’ it outside.”
Joe shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Let’s put it behind the house for now. The neighbors are riled up enough without havin’ to look at your bloody sofa.”
His plan sounded reasonable but something about the way he said it got under my skin. We set it down in the backyard, away from the telephone line.
“If you like, I can have someone come and remove it tomorrow.” Joe said.
“Thanks,” I said, unsure what to do next.
“I’m goin’ to check the door jamb and make sure you didn’t bang it up too much.”
My irritation returned, but he was right. I went in the kitchen and left the door open so he could examine the frame.
“You paintin’?” he asked, nodding to the paint cans.
“The livin’ room. I tried to get the blood off the wall but mostly I just ended up takin’ off the paint.”
“Have you ever painted before?”
I rolled my eyes. “I ain’t buildin’ a rocket. How hard could it be?”
“I’m sure a professional painter might take offense to that.”
“Well, I’m not hirin’ a professional painter.”
“I’m not suggestin’ you do, but I can make sure you know what to do before you get paint everywhere.”
“Why?” I asked.“Why would you help me?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say I was gonna paint the room for you. It’s only a few pointers.”
I appreciated his offer to help, but his attitude rankled me. Why did that man irritate me so?
Chapter Five
Joe ended up helping me move all the furniture into the dining room, then helped me tape. We didn't talk much while we worked, and after my initial nervousness of being near him in such tight quarters, I got used to his presence.
When we finished taping, he looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow. “You goin’ to paint in those clothes? Since you’re new to this, you’re bound to get paint on ‘em.”
I hadn’t considered that, along with most everything else in my life, it seemed. I went to my bedroom and dug through the drawers for an old t-shirt and pair of shorts, self-conscious about changing with Joe in the next room. I assured myself it was unlikely he had X-ray vision. If he had it in his head to attack me, he would have done it already.
When I returned, he had drop cloths spread all over the floor.
“I don’t remember buyin’ that many.” I said, puzzled.
“You didn’t. A couple are mine. You could have made do with the two you bought, but you would have to keep movin’ them around. It’ll be easier this way.”
My mouth dropped.
He saw my hesitation. “If I overstepped my….”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m
Crappy doodles .
I went out the seldom-used front door and tried pulling from the outside, with little success. Lodging my shoulder underneath, I tried to stand, hoping that might unwedge it.
“What on earth are you doin’?” Joe asked behind me.
Startled, I screamed and fell on my butt. “Why do you keep sneakin’ up on me like that?”
He laughed. “I didn’t ‘sneak up on you,’ I merely walked over to see what you were doin’. What are you doin’?”
I started to get up, surprised when he reached down to help me. “What does it look like I’m doin’?”
“It looks like you’re tryin’ to injure yourself removin’ that sofa from your house.”
I scowled at him. “It’s covered in blood and I can’t look at it one more minute. I had to get it out.”
“Well, why didn’t you come and ask me for help?”
I raised my eyebrows, stumped. “Honestly, it never occurred to me.”
He grimaced and shook his head. “You need to angle it more, then it should come right out. Go in the house and take the back side. I’ll take this end.”
Once we got it outside Joe asked, “Now where?” Joe asked.
“I dunno. I hadn’t thought that far. My entire goal centered around gettin’ it outside.”
Joe shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Let’s put it behind the house for now. The neighbors are riled up enough without havin’ to look at your bloody sofa.”
His plan sounded reasonable but something about the way he said it got under my skin. We set it down in the backyard, away from the telephone line.
“If you like, I can have someone come and remove it tomorrow.” Joe said.
“Thanks,” I said, unsure what to do next.
“I’m goin’ to check the door jamb and make sure you didn’t bang it up too much.”
My irritation returned, but he was right. I went in the kitchen and left the door open so he could examine the frame.
“You paintin’?” he asked, nodding to the paint cans.
“The livin’ room. I tried to get the blood off the wall but mostly I just ended up takin’ off the paint.”
“Have you ever painted before?”
I rolled my eyes. “I ain’t buildin’ a rocket. How hard could it be?”
“I’m sure a professional painter might take offense to that.”
“Well, I’m not hirin’ a professional painter.”
“I’m not suggestin’ you do, but I can make sure you know what to do before you get paint everywhere.”
“Why?” I asked.“Why would you help me?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say I was gonna paint the room for you. It’s only a few pointers.”
I appreciated his offer to help, but his attitude rankled me. Why did that man irritate me so?
Chapter Five
Joe ended up helping me move all the furniture into the dining room, then helped me tape. We didn't talk much while we worked, and after my initial nervousness of being near him in such tight quarters, I got used to his presence.
When we finished taping, he looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow. “You goin’ to paint in those clothes? Since you’re new to this, you’re bound to get paint on ‘em.”
I hadn’t considered that, along with most everything else in my life, it seemed. I went to my bedroom and dug through the drawers for an old t-shirt and pair of shorts, self-conscious about changing with Joe in the next room. I assured myself it was unlikely he had X-ray vision. If he had it in his head to attack me, he would have done it already.
When I returned, he had drop cloths spread all over the floor.
“I don’t remember buyin’ that many.” I said, puzzled.
“You didn’t. A couple are mine. You could have made do with the two you bought, but you would have to keep movin’ them around. It’ll be easier this way.”
My mouth dropped.
He saw my hesitation. “If I overstepped my….”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m
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