Eversea A Love Story

was a flooring company here.
    With the day I’d just had, nothing would surprise me. Or so I believed until I saw two men hauling a large piece of equipment out of my front door.
    “Um ... hi ... who are you?” I asked the big one closest to me.
    “I’m Chuck, this is Andy,” he responded with a jerk of a fat thumb behind him, as he informed me they had just finished sanding my floors.
    “Excuse me,” I managed. “I live here, and I didn’t hire anyone to sand the floors.”
    “Oh,” said the smaller one, I assumed this was Andy or whatever his name was. “Well, we got a prepaid order to do it, and that nice lady who lives in the cottage was expecting us. Anyway, we’re almost done, and we’ll be back to finish up and start the staining tomorrow. You just have to approve the color. Do you have somewhere you can stay during that time? You won’t be able to walk on the floors for about three days.”
    “What?” I was totally confused.
    Jazz came up and stood next to me. Apparently, she was the only one thinking clearly because she asked to see the invoice.
    They maneuvered the machinery down the stairs to their van, with Andy trying valiantly to ignore my sheer outfit. I imagined they weren’t greeted by a girl in a bikini everyday, but I was way past caring. The one named Chuck rummaged around in the front seat and emerged with a clipboard.
    “It wasn’t Mrs. Weaton surely? She’s on social security,” Jazz wondered aloud.
    Me ? I had a sneaking and sinking suspicion about what was going on, and I didn’t like it one bit. It was confirmed when Chuck handed me the pink billing slip with a California address on it under the name of Katherine Lyons. I didn’t need to be a genius to figure that one out. Then my eyes glanced down at the totals.
    “Holy shit!”
    Jazz grabbed it from me. “Holy shit, is right. Are you coating the floor with diamonds?” She aimed at Chuck. “And who the hell is Katherine Lyons?”
    “Jack’s assistant, I assume,” I informed her. “Her name is Katie.” I was absolutely fuming and stunned all at the same time. Why would Jack do this? He knew I wouldn’t be able to pay him back. But I would, of course, if I spent my whole life doing it. So much for erasing him from my memory. Even if that had been possible, it was certain to be delayed by a few decades now. I looked back at the invoice and saw a huge chunk of the cost had gone to the fancy dustless sanding process and floor repair. Presumably already done. Great.
    Chuck just stood there, a little confused, scratching his head.
    “You can’t continue. You’ll have to issue a refund for the parts you haven’t done yet,” I told him.
    “No can do. It was a package deal. Ain’t no way to divvy that up without you paying more for the part we already done.” He rocked on his heels.
    My stomach sank.
    “You can take it up with my manager,” he offered at my crestfallen expression. Pulling a pencil from behind his ear, he scrawled a number down on the bottom of the invoice.
    “I will. Please don’t come again until this is sorted out.”
    He walked away shaking his head.
    I stomped up the porch stairs with Jazz on my tail. For once, she was at a loss for words as well. We walked into the house. Neither of us said anything as we moved silently from empty room to empty room, taking in the sight of the smooth bare floors.
    All the furniture had been moved out of the way, some out onto the back porch. Even the stairs had been sanded. It was beautiful. It was going to be beautiful. My eyes were teary. It made me madder. When we got to Nana’s room, it too was stuffed with some furniture from downstairs. I turned to Jazz.
    “I kissed him. We kissed. We talked. We had the most ... amazing day. When I heard your voice, I picked up his phone to bring it inside and accidentally saw a message from her . It said: Thank you for calling me last night, I love you too, thank you for letting me fix this. I’m so sorry. ”
    “Oh, honey.” Jazz pulled me into a huge hug.
    I swallowed hard over the lump in my throat. If she said one more thing to comfort me, I knew I was going to lose it. But she always knew the right thing to do.
    She stepped away. We weren’t done discussing it, but for now she knew I needed a moment.
    “I’m going to get your truck and stop by the package store. We’re going to start on those margaritas a little sooner than anticipated,” she announced and swept down the stairs and out of the