Page 60 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
Mason
Willow is tapingpaint sample papers on the wall in the living room. She’s dressed like a handyman’s wet dream—red, plaid flannel shirt tied at the waist over a white tank, jeans shorts, and Timberlands with knee socks pushed down to the ankles.
“We’re a ways away from painting,” I tell her.
“Ack!” She jumps as she screams, paper paint samples go flying. “Jeez, Mason. You scared me half to death.” She turns to pick up the paint samples that she dropped.
I move to help her. “Sorry.”
“I know, painting is like last,” she says as we both straighten. I hand the papers to her and my fingers brush against hers. I feel a jolt through my system. She looks up at me, likes she’s surprised. I meet her eyes, knowing I should look away. Knowing I should pull my hand away. Somehow not able to do either.
She takes the papers and turns away before she continues, “But I just wanted to get used to seeing some of these on the wall for a few days. Plus, Zach is coming over and he has a great eye for color.”
I miss her touch.
“The bestie with testies?” I ask.
“You remembered.” She beams.
As cheesy as it is, I feel warmed by her smile. So I return the gesture.
You’re being an idiot, Mason.
“Okay, so what are we doing first? Knocking down a wall?” she asks.
“Yep. Grab a sledgehammer and some safety goggles and follow me.”
We face off with the wall. “Ready?” I ask her.
She nods, the look on her face serious. I gesture for her to go first. She picks up her sledgehammer and gauges the weight in her hands, then raises her arms above her head.
“Whoa, wait a minute.” I grab the hammer out of her hands, and she turns to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You’re going to hurt yourself that way. When you are first starting out, take it from the side, like this.” I show her how to come at the wall from an angle. “Make sense?”
She nods and takes the hammer back. “Like this?” She replicates my earlier motion.
“Good,” I encourage. “Now have at it.”
She stretches her arms back and curves her torso, almost like a golfer would, then swings with a grunt. The hammerhead hits the wall, making a small hole in the sheetrock under the paint.
“Wow!” she exclaims. “I kind of like that. It’s very satisfying to hit the wall.”
“It will get better when you start taking chunks out of it.” I swing my hammer taking a large slab of drywall away with me.
“How come you get to raise it over your head?” she asks.
“One, because I’m stronger. Two, because I’m experienced.”
She looks from my hammer to my arms and back again. I resist the urge to flex them.
Willow swings again, harder this time, and pulls away a decent-size chunk of wall with her.
“Nice job!” I say.
“This is fantastic!” She swings a few more times, each with more gusto than the one before. I swing alongside her and soon we have half the drywall pulled away from the framing.
“Do you guys have to make so much noise?” AshLynn appears at the door with a smirk on her face. I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.
“Want to help?” Willow asks her.
