Page 55 of Home Game

Five minutes later, I sat in a sea of boards, screws, and other pieces and I had to admit I was in way over my head. It was like a random, furniture jigsaw puzzle, with no rhyme or reason.

“Ready for some instructions?” Zoey waved the sheet over her head.

“Guys don’t read instructions,” I reiterated.

“No, the girls do and then we tell you what to do,” she crouched beside me. “Put these two pieces together and use this screw in these holes.

“Give me that,” I tried to grab the instructions.

She solemnly shook her head. “Let’s just establish that you’re the brawn and I’m the brains in this operation.”

I laughed. “Only because you have a sore arm.”

Zoey's team player skills intrigued me. She had great communication skills, was clear in what she needed, quick to provide her help, and kept it light by joking around.

Before long, we had one 8-drawer navy dresser built. Zoey inspected it carefully, opened drawers and tested how everything rolled open and shut. I sat back and watched her.

A huge smile broke out over her face. “It’s perfect.”

Satisfaction shot through me. “You like it?”

“You’re good at this.”

I ripped open another box and passed her the instructions. She hunkered down beside me and studied the instructions. A knock sounded. Zoey and I exchanged looks.

When I swung open the door, there stood Mica, holding a case of beer, a plastic Safeway bag full of receipts and a laptop.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he grinned at me. “Is Zoey here?”

“It’s for you, Zoey,” I called over my shoulder, irony in my tone.

Mica looked around the empty space and then Zoey was skidding up to us. She stared up at Mica, her eyes wide.

Mica smiled down at her and offered to shake her hand. “I’m Mica. You must be Zoey.”

“I am.”

“I know you said to show up later in the afternoon, but I thought you guys might want another set of hands to help build that IKEA furniture since you mentioned you only had one working arm.” He was speaking to her, but he glanced up at me. I grew up with guys and I instantly recognized the peace offering.

I glanced down at Zoey. “Can you handle bossing two of us around?”

Zoey turned pink. “I probably can manage.”

Mica handed me a beer, took one himself, and settled down on the floor beside me. Zoey sorted through all the nuts and bolts, told us what to do, and how to do it. We worked silently for a while, and then Mica started to talk.

“So Zoey, are you from Vancouver?”

“Yes.”

“So, how did you get suckered into helping Ryan put together his furniture?”

She glanced at me. “Ryan asked me to help him.”

“Oh really. Are you an interior designer?”

She snorted. “No.”

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