Well, at least she had her trailer. That was enough to occupy her thoughts and energies. Who needed a man anyway? Certainly not her. As she parked her car by the trailer, she suddenly remembered all the treasures she’d unloaded last night. Maybe it was time to play house. That would certainly distract her from moping over Jordan.
Once inside the trailer, after admiring the first stages of transformation, Dillon knew she needed to finish her sewing and upholstery projects before she unpacked her trailer treasures. Otherwise, she might never go back to the old Singer.
So with fresh motivation, she studied another online tutorial. A “simple” how-to on upholstering dinette benches. She watched it several times. Then, feeling relatively confident, she started to measure—and re-measure—the foam seat. Next she marked the measurements on the tweedy upholstery fabric, and praying she’d done it right, she held her breath and cut. Hoping it would fit, she laid the fabric piece on the dinette table, setting the foam bench on top, and like the tutorial showed, she folded the corners of the fabric. Then she refolded—again and again.
Finally, convinced that the corner looked right, she pulled out the staple gun and secured the fabric to the wooden board underneath. It felt empowering to hear the staple going into the wood. She continued with the rest of the stapling, unsure what she’d discover when she flipped it over. But to her surprise, the results were amazing. It was smooth and neat. Just like in the tutorial. As Dillon surveyed her work, she wondered if she’d just found her calling. And did upholsterers get paid more than swimming instructors?
Of course, thinking about this morning’s swim lessons only reminded her of Jordan again . . . and those fractious twin girls, Emma and Chloe. She still felt aggravated at how their dad had flown off the handle at Dillon’s attempts to get Chloe more comfortable in the water. Well, hopefully Jordan would stick to his guns and take his girls out of her class. Good riddance to all of them!
Grateful for the distraction of her trailer, she blocked the Atwood family from her mind, focusing all her energy and effort back on the upholstery project. She was just finishing it up when she heard someone knocking on the trailer door.
She opened it to see Grandpa and his wheelbarrow, which had a large square box in it. “Special delivery for Dillon Michaels,” he told her.
She stared at the large box then suddenly remembered. “My bed!”
“Bed?” He frowned at the box. “Must not be very big.”
“It gets bigger.” She went out, picking up the bulky box and hoping it would fit through the door.
“This I gotta see.” He followed her inside, then, pulling out his pocketknife, he helped her open the box. She removed a square plastic-covered thing from the box. “Is that your bed?” he asked.
“It says to open it carefully.” She read the directions. “And to stand back.”
Grandpa chuckled as she followed the instructions to free the mattress. Then they both jumped back as it magically grew before their eyes.
“Well, I’ll be.” Grandpa just shook his head. “Never saw anything like that before.”
She wrestled the mattress into place on the bed, then flopped down on it and grinned. “It’s really comfortable.”
“Better than my old sofa?”
She sighed. “Way better. In fact, I might just move myself out here now.”
“Not a bad idea.” Grandpa looked around the trailer, letting out a low whistle. “You’ve really transformed this thing, Dillon.” He ran a hand over a freshly painted cabinet door, then examined the upholstery she’d just finished. “Nice work. I had no idea this old thing could look this great.”
She stood up and smiled. “Thank you. I love doing this. In fact, I was just wishing I could do this kind of thing for a living.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you can.” He knelt down to look at the floor. “What’re you going to put down here?”
“I’d like to get some stick-down vinyl tiles. Nothing fancy. Just clean and light.”
“The hardware store probably has some.”
She grimaced, unsure she wanted to go back there and risk running into Jordan Atwood again. Now Grandpa inquired about swimming lessons and, not wanting to mention Jordan and the twins, she told him a sweetened-condensed version of her morning. “But it’s just a summer job,” she said. “And I didn’t commit for more than the first session, which ends in mid-July.”
Grandpa touched her bare shoulder. “Looks like you got a little sunburn.”
She frowned. “Yeah, guess I’ll have to be more careful.”
“Fortunately you’ve got your grandmother’s coloring.” He tweaked her auburn hair. “You’ll be tan by the end of the week.” He reached for the door. “I better get back to my pumpkin patch.”
“How’s it coming?”
“Got it about half planted. Want to finish before sundown and get the irrigation going on it. And, oh yeah, Margot told me to tell you she’s fixing dinner tonight—and she doesn’t want to hear us whining for red meat.”
“Oh, delightful.” Dillon rolled her eyes, then thanked him for delivering her wonderful bed. Suddenly excited over the prospect of sleeping out here, she went to work sewing the last two sets of curtains. When she was finally hanging the last curtains on the window next to her new bed, she wondered why it felt so satisfying to get these little tasks completed. Just a few weeks ago, she would’ve had absolutely no interest in something like this. She probably would’ve laughed if someone had told her she’d be rehabbing an old trailer and thrilled about the prospect of inhabiting it. Was she losing it? If she was, she wasn’t sure she cared.
CHAPTER
11
Although her first classes had gone well, Dillon was not looking forward to her last class of little swimmers. And although she felt guilty for it, she hoped and prayed those blonde twins would be a no-show. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them to learn to swim. She felt everyone should learn to swim. She just wanted them to learn from someone else.
But apparently Jordan’s disapproval hadn’t discouraged his wife, because Janelle, once again looking stylishly chic, showed up with the two girls. “I hear they gave you a bad time yesterday,” she told Dillon. “I gave them a stern talk.” She bent down to help her girls get their sandals off. “You two are going to do your best, right?” Janelle pointed at who Dillon assumed was Chloe since she had on the pink-striped suit again. “And you need to go into the water with Emma. Understand?”
Chloe nodded. “Okay, Mommy.”
“And if I don’t get a good report, there’ll be no ice cream treat afterward.”
Dillon forced a smile, then organizing the water dragon, she led the kids into the pool. Emma was trying a bit more, but Chloe was holding back, unwilling to go down the steps. “Go ahead and sit down here,” Dillon told Chloe. “You can watch the others.” Chloe sat down and Dillon, hoping to use some reverse psychology, tried to make their water games look as fun as possible. Even though Emma was dragging her heels, she was trying. Meanwhile, Chloe glowered from her position on the top step. Janelle came down to the pool and Dillon thought she was about to intervene, but instead she held up her phone. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go do another showing again. A client is certain they’ve found a great house.” She shook her finger at Chloe. “You better get in there with your sister.”