Chapter 4: Teamwork

By nine Friday night, I had the minimal furniture moved out, the floor vacuumed, and all the waxed kraft paper laid in place. I was satisfied that my preparation was complete and ready for the flooring in the morning. Charlotte could help me snap a chalk line to make sure we started off with the correct gap along the longest wall. No matter how careful the builders were, there would always be a slight variation along twenty-plus feet of wall and I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to have to make any visible adjustments to the alignment of the flooring.

Having slept well on Friday night, I anticipated a full workday on Saturday. I was delighted that Charlotte wanted to help and learn. Selfishly, it gave me a chance to be with her again and hopefully develop a closer bond.

She arrived just before eight. Happy that she was anxious to get going on the job, I welcomed her and guided her to the kitchen where I invited her to sit, pulling out a stool at the island counter. There was fresh orange juice and I poured her a glass as she seated herself.

"I made pancakes with bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. I hope that's okay."

"Oh, that's more than I expected. Thank you," she said, displaying a generous smile.

Showing her a mug of coffee, she nodded as she drank some juice. I pulled the breakfast plates, already loaded with food, out of the oven and placed them on the counter for us.

"There's syrup and butter for the pancakes, and jam for the toast if you like," I said as I seated myself.

"Oh no, this is great. Just some syrup, please."

Within five minutes I knew she'd come with an appetite and had already demolished the pancakes. By the time she'd finished, the eggs, bacon and toast were gone. I love a woman with an appetite.

"Oh, I hope I didn't eat too much," she said with a sigh. "It was so good and I was so hungry."

"Always happy to see a satisfied customer," I said with a smile as I took the plates to the sink, rinsed them and stacked them in the dishwasher.

"I won't need lunch," she groaned as she climbed down off the stool. "Now it's time to get to work. I need to burn off the calories."

"Don't worry, you will," I promised.

We set up how we were going to go about laying the hardwood and what I needed her to do that would help. The direction of the boards would be at a right angle to the center of the front window. First, we snapped a line parallel to the wall, but a quarter inch further out than the width of one board. Then, I had Charlotte begin to sort the various random lengths so that they overlapped the adjacent row's joints by at least one third. Once we'd laid out three or four rows, we pushed all but the first row away, but keeping the boards in the same order. I then began using the power flooring nailer on the flange, working my way down until we started on the second row.

Charlotte didn't need to be shown what to do more than once. It was a simple job, but when we came to the end wall, we would have to do some cutting to length, often matching the angle of the hexagon. At that point, we would need the dust masks. There was plenty of flooring and I could get more if necessary. Having measured the area carefully, I knew my only real challenge would be the far wall where I would have to rip the final row to fit almost flush to the wall. Luckily, neither wall showed any significant variation in straightness.

I glanced at her now and then, when I was sure she wouldn't notice. Even in work clothes, on her hands and knees as she fit the boards or went to get more, her movements were graceful. She was completely absorbed in her task, and the look on her face told me she was enjoying herself. It was so easy to fall for this beautiful woman. So easy.

Travis wasn't at all pleased when he saw the power chop saw come out, much less the table saw. I let him out and he headed for the neighbour's house across the road, not planning to return until the sound of the saw was silenced. We had begun our cutting to length in the foyer area, but around ten that morning, the sun came out and we moved the saw to the porch to cut down on the dust. When I surveyed our progress to that point, I knew we would finish that day. We worked well as a team and didn't encounter any real difficulty. A few special cuts and cut-outs here and there were quickly accomplished and by noon, we were over two-thirds done.

"Let's take a break, Charlotte," I said as we finished a row. "Have you worn off that breakfast yet?"

"I could use something to drink and maybe a snack," she admitted. "It's gone really well, hasn't it?"

"Absolutely," I confirmed. "We are easily going to finish this afternoon. Maybe then we can get an idea of what to do about the mouldings."

"I've been giving that some though and brought some samples that I was going to leave with you for your thoughts."

I pulled two cold beers from the fridge, a selection of cheeses, and three types of crackers."

"This is perfect," she said, as she cut some cheese and put it on a cracker. She hadn't bothered with a glass, but was sipping her beer from the bottle. This girl definitely didn't put on any airs.

We went back to work after a half-hour break, and just before four o'clock, finished the floor in all three areas. We had been slowed by all the corners and turns in the hallway, and the fitting against the carpets and tile in the bedrooms and bathroom. As the afternoon had progressed, Charlotte had become more and more confident of what needed to be done and was laying out edge and corner cuts for me with ease. I dealt with ripping all the narrow boards down to size while she fitted them in place.

When we were done, we walked around on the floor, hoping we wouldn't find any squeaks or soft spots. There were none that we could detect. And, it looked great.

"This is exactly how I wanted it to look," I said to her. "When we get the baseboards on, it's going to be even better."

"It does look good, doesn't it," she agreed.

"Thank you for your help," I said with a big smile. "If I'd done this alone, I'd have been both days getting it done. You really cut down on the workload. I'm very grateful."

"You're welcome," she said with a return smile. "I learned a lot today and it will help me in the future. We didn't get much practical experience in school ... at least the school I went to."

Opening two more beers, I passed her one as we sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. I could see Charlotte looking around the room and up at the ceiling and I wondered what she was thinking. It wasn't long before I found out.

"I have a suggestion about this room. If the furniture is arranged around the center of the room in an open style, I would put a big, round rug in the middle. Something about eight feet in diameter, I'd guess. It would be centered right under the peak of the roof. It would be the focal point for the whole room. The colours would be lighter than the floor, but in the same colour ranges; tan, dusty rose maybe, gold, leaf green, cream."

"Round and not square?" I noted.

"Yes. You've got a lot of straight lines in this room now. You want to soften that, and round brings every location in the room into the center."

"What about the furniture?" I asked. "Which style would complement the room?"

"Soft, comfortable, maybe a bit bulky. You don't want stiff and formal. That's not right for this room."

"Well, you said the magic word for me," I nodded. "Comfortable is the key."

"This is a big room," she continued. "You want a big rug and big furniture."

"I'll be right back," I said as I rose and headed to my office. I grabbed what I was looking for out of the closet and dragged it back to the great room.

"What about this?" I asked as I unrolled a large, circular rug.

"That's it!" Charlotte said immediately. "The colours aren't right, but the size and pattern are perfect. It doesn't look quite as good as it will with the right furniture, but this is what you need in this room."

She had risen and now sat in the middle of the rug, cross-legged, looking around to see whatever she could see. I wish I could have taken a picture of her right then.

"I bet Travis will love this," she smiled.

"We've finished with the saws, so I'll call him."

I walked out on the front porch and called his name. Within seconds he came running across the road and up to the back door. He knew the front door was out of bounds unless I was with him. He trotted into the living room, sniffed the new floor, took one look at Charlotte and plopped himself down, and curled up beside her.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," I chuckled. "Travis is in total agreement with you."

She was stroking the dog's head and smiling at him as he lay there, quite content with the new rug and his new friend. Dogs like life simple, and this would be just fine with him. The look in Charlotte's eyes portrayed her affection for the animal.

"Do you think you can find a rug that will work in this room?" I asked.

"Probably, but first we have to decide on the wall colours."

"Colours? More than one?"

"Yes. I think so. Burgundy on the hall and the two stub walls, medium earth-tone on the big walls."

She was gazing thoughtfully around the room, rising to stand in different locations to see whatever it was she was trying to see. I watched her. One hand on her hip, a fingertip on her lower lip, her eyes moving slowly from place to place. She belonged here. In a way, it was as if this house had been built for her, not my late friend. I wondered if she realized that yet.

I sat propped up against the wall near the front entrance to the room. She moved as easily as a dancer on the new floor, her stocking feet gliding rather than stepping. She was completely oblivious to anything other than her thoughts. Travis sat on the round rug and watched her, his new best friend. His head was between his forepaws, his tail occasionally sweeping slowly across his resting place. He was the picture of contentment, and I felt little different from him. The woman had captured both of us.

Charlotte interrupted her thoughts and left the room, heading toward the laundry area. She returned a minute later with her sport bag and slid down beside me.

"What do you think of these?" she asked, handing me some 1 X 4 samples in various colours.

Looking at them, I compared them to what I imagined the room would look like furnished and painted the way she had described it. I set two of the samples aside. One was finished in a light wood stain, the other in a cream coloured semi-gloss paint. The two I held in my hand were different again. A red almost matching the cherry floor on one, a clear transparent urethane on the other. I propped them against the wall and stood, moving back to get a better look.

"These two," I said, pointing to the light wood stain and the cream coloured paint, the first two that had caught my eye. "The varnished fir might be too light, especially if we go with the natural wood doors and stain them. We'd never get the dark red to look exactly like the floor, so it wouldn't work. Of all of them, I like the cream colour. It might fit with anything you are proposing."

Glancing at Charlotte, I saw the knowing smile. Had I chosen what she hoped I would choose?

"You're better at this than you give yourself credit for," she said. "It's different than most people would choose, but you're right, it will work with the other colours. But I'd only recommend it for this room. I think the light stain matching the doors for the other rooms would be best."

"Okay, what about the bedroom? Maybe the cream would work there too."

"It might, but let's leave that for now," she said, picking up the two chosen samples. "We haven't discussed the bedroom yet, so it can wait."

We adjourned to the kitchen to place our empty beer bottles in the carton.

"What's your plan for tomorrow?" she asked as we sat.

"Don't know," I admitted. "Thought I'd still be working on the floor today. With your help, I just got an open day. I have no plan."

"What about next weekend? What were you planning then?"

"Floor tiles for the bathrooms. You were going to find something for me, remember?"

"Yes. I'll make sure I have something to show you early next week."

"We could look around tomorrow. All the stores are open on Sunday."

"Okay," she agreed immediately. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Eight-thirty here for breakfast?"

"Oh ... I don't know. If you make something like you did this morning, I'll have gained twenty pounds on a weekend," she moaned.

"Not hardly," I scoffed. "You worked your ah ... butt off today. I'm sure you burned all the morning calories off easily."

"Yeah, and the beer is low-cal too, right?" she smirked with a raised eyebrow.