Painting and Pleasure

The brush slipped its way up and down the corner of the wall. I dragged it along the crevice, spreading paint with every stroke. Dipping it back in the pot often, I was hoping I could get away with only doing one coat.

My eyes were heavy and tired. I had smoked that morning before going into work. I shouldn’t get high before work. But I knew I was going to be here by myself today. No boss or other crew. I wanted to feel good. So, I took down a joint with my roommate before heading out. Now my brain was hyper focused on the evenness of the brush strokes. I didn’t want to leave any evidence that I was stoned when I left this afternoon. I had to make sure everything was perfect.

There were feet on the stairs above my head. My heart gave a flutter that almost sent me to the ground. I sat down hard on the toilet and breathed deep. I hadn’t realized how high my anxiety had been until it was broken wide open. Those light footsteps on the stairs might as well have been a giant monster lumbering after me, such was my reaction.

So, when the young girl who had come down the stairs rounded the corner and stood in the doorway, all she saw was me sitting on the toilet, clutching my chest and breathing deep with my eyes closed and my head tilted to the ceiling.

“Umm sorry, I didn’t realize you were using…” She said, awkwardly. Whatever she might have thought I was doing, she didn’t retreat, but stood there watching me.

“No, sorry, just painting.” I swiped the brush absently near the baseboard, not paying attention.

“Yeah, nice.” She said, “My mom said you would be here, I completely forgot.”

“Yeah. Sorry, do you need to use the bathroom?” I asked, getting up and stepping through the doorway, passing through her space.

She seemed to consider, “No, the paint fumes will just give me a headache.” She walked back into the kitchen. “I’m Jessie by the way.”

“Yeah, I’m Dan.” I offered my hand out of impulse, but her back was turned, looking in the fridge. I let me arm fall casually back to my side. “Your mom didn’t say you would be here.”

“When did you talk with my mom?” She asked, whipping her head around.

“I was texting with her last night,” I said, a little apprehensive. “She said you would be working.”

Jessie pulled her head out of the fridge and rolled her eyes, “It’s Friday.” She took out a glass and poured herself almond milk from the carton. “Friday is my day off from classes, but she can never remember that I like to sleep in.” she took a long swig from the almond milk.

“Yeah, I’m the same way,” I said. I felt awkward, and not just because I was high. I was standing in the kitchen, while I was being paid to paint the bathroom. And I was standing in the kitchen with the customers college age daughter. Though in fairness, I was only a year or two past college age myself. The customer was a lady named Donna. She was… well… how do you put it nicely? She was fat. And gross. I had only ever seen her with a chocolate mustache encircling her lips. But she was a nice lady. Her daughter Jessie though… well Jessie was not fat. She was hot. And she was half naked. She was wearing a loose sweatshirt that was cut off above her rib cage. Her tum was cute and shapely and I had a difficult time tearing my eyes away from that smooth bare skin. She had a pair of silken jogging shorts that were weaving their way between her ass cheeks.

“I’m sure you get sleepy often,” she said, a hint of a smile lurking below her cute milk mustache.

My brain quickly overanalyzed, wondering if this was an illusion to how high I was, or if she was calling me attractive in some sort of backhanded way. Or had she caught me staring? I just nodded and smiled.

“So, you were the one who fixed my door?” Jessie asked out of the blue.

I feverishly searched my memory, “Yeah.” I remembered the job a few months ago. I replaced the flag that had been hanging in the upstairs doorframe with a proper door. “New door, with a lock.” I remembered that detail being important.

“Exactly,” Jessie said. “You have no idea how grateful I am. I was so tired of having to watch porn in the bathroom.” She shook her head and shivered at the very memory.

“No problem,” I laughed, feeling less awkward than I should. Her casual talk of porn had given me a keen interest in her. “Happy to help.” I smiled, feeling more at ease.

“Well, anyway, I better get this over with.” she said, nodding at the back door.

“Yeah, I should get back to painting.” I said, “Nice to meet you.”

She just smiled as she slipped out the door.

I went back into the bathroom and picked up my paintbrush. I was painting around the window, and not just because I could watch Jessie as she paced in the backyard. I was trying to cut around all the little details with the brush so that I could cover everything one time with the paint roller. However, this was detailed work and it was made infinitely more difficult when you are trying to watch the erratic half naked girl out in the backyard.