Where You Belong

114

"This is kind of boring."

Derek chuckled. There wasn't a single drop of paint on the wall yet, and already Meredith was bored. "You're the one who wanted to do this ourselves," he reminded.

Standing on the small stepladder above him, Meredith made a face. "I want to be able to look back and remember doing it. I just...never thought it would be this boring."

"It's been less than two hours," he pointed out as he passed her a long strip of painter's tape.

"Well, it feels like longer." She turned and reached up to press the tape along the line of the ceiling for protection while they painted. "I get the expression now."

"What expression?"

She hopped down and dragged the stepladder several feet along the floor. They'd repeated this process numerous times already as they'd taped the ceiling, doors, windows and baseboards everywhere else in the condo. The living room was the last room, which was good because they were running low on tape, despite the fact that his wife had made fun of him for the number of rolls he had bought in preparation to their painting.

"Watching paint dry," she responded as she stepped back up the ladder and reached for another strip of tape.

"We haven't painted yet. There's nothing to watch dry."

"I think I can make the connection."

He laughed as he ripped off a strip of tape and handed it to her. After Meredith had returned from work that morning and they had said a proper goodbye to the living room floor, he had taken her out to breakfast. They had then returned to the house and loaded all of the painting supplies into his car and driven to their realtor's office to pick up the keys. More than two hours later and they hadn't yet cracked open a can of paint.

Meredith finished with the tape and jumped down again. "One more," she mumbled gratefully, dragging the stepladder down to the only empty space left. "I think we should have paid someone to set up for the painting, and then we could do the painting without putting up with this crap."

"Next time."

She giggled.

He passed her the last strip of tape and smiled at her satisfied sigh when she finished applying it. "Four rolls of tape later and we're finally ready to actually paint," she said, standing on the step stool, still staring at the last strip of tape she had applied.

"Almost ready to actually paint," he corrected.

She turned around. "We've taped every freaking surface in this place. What could possibly be left?"

"Well, unless you plan on painting the hardwood floors, we still have to lay down tarps."

"Right." She nodded. "Tarps should be easier than tape."

Derek smirked. "Yeah, except we should really tape them down..."

Still standing above him, she placed her hands on her hips and glared down at him. "I hate you."

"You love me," he countered.

"I hate tape," she continued. "Tape is stupid."

"Mature."

"I hate painting."

Unable to stay away from his wife while she was being so adorably annoyed, he reached for her hand and tugged until she cracked a smile and stepped down the ladder. The moment he was standing on the ground beside him, he snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her. She kissed him back and then released a laughing breath against his lips.