John slid his feet back into his shoes. “You’re not accusing me of being a nerd, are you?”

“Only in the sexiest way,” I said.

For the rest of the bathroom floor, we chose a porcelain tile that looked like weathered driftwood planks, but also had hints of the maple tone of the wood on our bedroom floor.

“It’s perfect,” I said. “It looks almost like real driftwood.”

John checked the notes he’d made on his phone. “Okay, we’re not out of the woods yet. We still have to decide whether we want them to install the tiles in staggered or stacked lines.”

“Gentleman’s choice,” I said, since I had no idea what he was talking about.

“I think staggered would be more in keeping with the age of the house, you know, like a brick walkway. Stacked might be a bit too modern.” John pulled up some photos on his phone to show me.

“Done,” I said. “Is that all?”

John pulled up an online catalogue on his phone. “I told Joe we want to splurge for the frameless shower door, but we still have to choose a tub and a vanity and fixtures. And pick an exhaust fan as well as a style for the recessed lights. And we also have to decide whether we want a chandelier or a paddle fan in the bedroom.”

“Paddle fan,” I said. “Sleeping under a paddle fan is like being on vacation, almost as if a tropical breeze is blowing through the room. The white noise is a bonus, too.”

John kept scrolling through pictures. “What if I were to tell you I’m a chandelier guy? Something sleek and industrial . . .”

I sighed dramatically. “You being a chandelier guy would be a total deal breaker. We’d have to divide the bedroom down the middle, put a paddle fan on my side, a chandelier on yours.”

“Nice to know we can always find a compromise. Fortunately, I like paddle fans, too. Which one?”

“Overload, overload.” I leaned over, began scrolling through about a zillion paddle fans. “Too many choices. Plus, it’s hard to pick things out without actually seeing them.”

John checked his phone for the time. “How about we jump in the car. I think we have just enough time to hit the kitchen and bath supply store out by the highway, as well as Lowe’s and Home Depot, and then circle out to Ikea if we haven’t found what we’re looking for, and then we can loop back home from there.”

“Didn’t you already drive to Boston and back today?”

John shrugged. “It’s either that or guess from the online pictures. Or trust Joe to pick out everything for us.”

“I don’t think we can trust Joe,” I said. “Think about it—he picked my sister Christine.”

John shook his head. “If anybody else ever said something like that about Christine, you’d take them out.”