Page 59 of Sunset Catchers

“I must’ve leaned too far down in the pan.”

He chuckles softly at this.

“You also have paint on your cheek.” He reaches toward me, and I jerk away, bringing my own hand on my cheek. I just can’t let him touch my face. He eyes me musingly, dropping his hand. I wiped my green, tinted fingers on my thigh, leaving behind new smudges on the already stained fabric.

“How may I assist you, Chief Handyman?”

He sighs. “You can pull the fabric tight or staple it,” he says, letting me decide.

“Ouuh, power tool, please.” I grab the stapler with excitement. Levi is worried. As if me holding a power tool could prove to be somewhat dangerous. Wrong. I’m very good with them.

“Good choice considering your lack of arm muscles,” is all he says. I rack my brain for an answer, before shrugging.

“Can’t really argue with you there,” I relent.

“I never thought I’d see the day when these words would come out of your mouth.”

His eyes linger on said mouth.

“It is a rare occurrence, so don’t go and get used to it.”

I settle on my knees, across from Levi, while he pulls the fabric tightly over the seat of one of the dining chairs from his cottage.

“Do you know how to use it?” he asks, jutting his chin toward the stapler I’m confidently holding. Can’t he see that my form is perfect?

“Yes. In fact, I know how to use most power tools.” I put a first staple in, to get a feel of my tool, then do it some more. We work together to make sure the fabric is smooth.

“How did you learn?”

“Only with the best education one can receive,” I say haughtily with my chin up.

“Videos on YouTube?”

“Ding ding ding.” We both laugh. “There is this forty-year-old dude that used to post a new video every week. Junie and I would watch every one of them, then we’d go to her parents’ garage to borrow tools and find a project to make for our apartment.”

Levi is a dog that has just been thrown a bone, wriggling his tail with excitement. I try not to let his enthusiasm spook me and turn me reluctant to share stories. It’s cute—he’s cute.

“What did you make?”

“A coffee table that is slightly wobbly when you put your mug on the wrong end.” Levi laughs. “We reupholstered our dining room chairs. Hung a bunch of frames, only to learn that eyeballing was not the best way to go at it. It took so long to spackle the dozens of holes we’d made in the wall. Some of those are still there, to this day.” Those are some of my favorite memories with Junie.

“Did that come before or after you decided to study interior design?”

“After. I wasn’t sure what I would study after high school. I’ve always loved to read, so I thought about heading that way for a while, to become an editor or something, but it didn’t work out. I had to drop out of school after my first year in Cegep. I decided to study interior design to have more opportunities at my current job, which was my part-time gig at the time.”

“What do you love most about it?”

“Everything, honestly. I think it might seem superficial to want a pretty home, but it’s so much more than that. Your home is where you spend most of your time, and it should be your favorite place. Your happy place. It should be a reflection of who you are and of what you love. It is a privilege and a sign of trust when someone lets me step inside their home to help them achieve that.”

Levi’s internal debate is splattered on his face, so I say, “Stop beating around the rose bushes, Levi. Just ask me.”

“Does your childhood have anything to do with it?”

I snort. “It has everything to do with it. I didn’t realize it at first. I think I was too deep in the trenches at the time, but yes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that my home was a safe place for me, and it certainly wasn’t a happy one.” I feel sad now. “It might seem silly, but I thought if I learned all the technicalities of interior design, I might finally understand why we were so unhappy. Like maybe if our kitchen had been painted a specific color, or if we’d hung that frame an inch higher, it would’ve made us happier.”

Levi doesn’t say anything; he just stares at my face.

“It’s stupid, I know.” I follow with a joyless laugh, glaring at the power tool in my hands. I shouldn’t have said anything.