Expected ("Unexpected" Book #2)- ON HOLD

Chapter Fifteen: Marissa

Jake and I went back to New Jersey two weeks after we went apartment hunting. It was an orientation and campus tour. We couldn't skip it because Jake had to grab some very important papers from the school. As much as I hate traveling, I liked getting away for the weekend with Jake. Though our schedule while out of town is hectic, we are always glad to go out for dinner and stay in the hotel room and watch a movie.
  Jake and I were at the hardware store, picking up the maroon and lime green paints following the orientation. We had to measure the rooms in order to figure out just how much paint we needed.
  And just to my luck, the music playing in the store was pretty much every song that Jake likes. So he was tapping his fingers on paint cans to the beat as we looked for the right shade of red and green. An employee even helped us out by giving us paint splotches to show us the shades. Which I was lucky for mostly because it got Jake to stop drumming on the paint cans. We gave the employee the measurements of the rooms and he gave us the correct amount of paints including an extra can for each shade just in case. We both were pretty much spending our entire paychecks just to give the apartment a homier look. Hopefully, we'll do a decent job on the paintwork since we aren't hiring anyone to do it for us. But the bonus Tim gave Jake really helped out a lot. Just driving the paint cans back to the apartment gave me hope that this move will run soothingly.

***

Like our entire marriage, we split the work up 50/50. Jake was in charge of painting the kids' room while I painted our bedroom. I could hear Jake jamming out to Fall Out Boy while he worked just across the hall and it made me laugh. He's so carefree and makes things more fun than they should be. Even with him singing along to the radio at the top of his lungs, he still had that enchanting voice of his. Meanwhile, while I sing out loud like that to the radio, I sound like a dying hyena. Jake has never commented on that though. I think he's too blinded by the music to see that I can't sing properly when it comes to the radio. I'm better at singing along to instrumentals or with no music at all.
  It was getting close to one in the afternoon when I put down my paintbrush after painting half of the room. It was nearing lunchtime and I know for a fact that Jake hasn't eaten anything since about seven this morning. 
  I walked out of the room and straight across the hall to the kids' bedroom. Jake was standing on a foot latter. His arm stretched up to paint gently over the edges. He was still singing in tune as I walked over. He seemed in his own little world. The music was blasting throughout the whole room. Why would he want the music up so loud? He's weird. That's why.
  He was wearing the white shirt I've told him numerous amounts of times not to wear while painting because I spent a hell of a long time cleaning it the one time he wore it while going dirt biking with Tim and Robbie when Robbie was in town for a weekend. Took me nearly four days to pry every stain out of it. Right now, he had the shirt covered weakly by an old grey flannel and the most worn-down jeans I have ever seen. 
  "Babe," I said once I was standing directly behind him.
  He stopped painting and turned around, grabbing the radio remote from his back pocket and lowered the volume until it was barely audible but still playing. "Yeah?"
  "It's time for lunch. You want me to go out and get something?"
  "If that's okay."
  I nodded. "It is. What would you like?"
  He thought for a moment. "Definitely some french fries and a Diet Coke." He paused and continued to think. "A burger would be nice too."
  "Got it. Fries, Diet Coke, and a burger."
  "Yeah." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, taking out a twenty dollar bill. "My treat," he said and handed it over to me. "That should be enough."
  I took it and placed it in my pocket. "It should be. I'll bring back change."
  "That'd be good." He turned around and went back to painting.
  I grinned to myself and lightly tugged on the sleeve of his old, loose flannel, causing him to turn back around. I placed my hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
  "I love you. I'll be back soon," I said once we pulled apart.
  "I love you too." He placed a kiss on my forehead before getting back to work.

***

When I got back to the apartment with our lunch which I added two small bags of chips to, Jake was working on the final wall of the kids' room. Now he was jamming out to Panic! At The Disco. I think it was their song Say Amen (Saturday Night). I wouldn't be surprised if the next punk or pop band he listened to was the All-American Rejects. 
  "Lunch is here," I yelled over the music and placed his take-out bag on the workbench he placed in the center of the room.
  He lowered the volume of the radio with the remote and placed his paint roller on the newspaper covered floor. "Thanks, babe," he said and gave me a quick kiss before digging through the bag, pulling out the french fries. 
  I took my fries out of my bag and started eating them. Jake and I standing on either side of the workbench. 
  "God, I've been starving," Jake said and took several fries in his mouth.
  I pointed at his bag. "You know there's ketchup in there, right?"
  He nodded. "I know. But I like my fries warm," he said with a wink causing me to roll my eyes. "And ketchup cools them down."
  I just shook my head as I took a bite of my fry. "You seem to be living the life in here," I commented on his current setup of having music playing at full volume and singing along to it. 
  He grinned and reached his hand towards my face, sliding his index finger down my cheek, leaving a small trail of paint. 
  I gasped but almost instantly started laughing and shoved him in the chest. "You're mean."
  He leaned his head close to me mockingly. "You married me."
  I waved him off and took my bag to move back across the hall so I can get back to work. Once I left the room, the music started playing loudly again.
  Jesus Christ, Jacob Issak Murray.