I painted the kitchen walls. Then I started the bathroom shower tiles. As in, I removed about half of them and replaced maybe . . . six.

I counted them.

Okay, so eight.

As convenient as it was to use the constant “remodel” as a way to discourage guests, most notably my dad, I really wished I had the money and skill to do everything I wanted to do to the house. One day I would. This house was my way to prove that I could take care of myself. I didn’t know who I was trying harder to convince, myself or my dad. And did it really matter?

The water was finally warm enough to wash my hair. It shorted out on me only a couple of times. When I turned it off, the shower still dripped behind me as I rough-dried my hair. I thought again of Elodie’s friend, the stranger in my house. He seemed nice enough, but too quiet. Was he rude or just shy? His demeanor didn’t come off as shy at all. As I wrapped a hand towel around the leaking bath faucet and plugged in my hair dryer, I wondered if Phillip was the kind of guy who would mind his friend staying with his pregnant wife. I started to feel uneasy as I blow-dried the tips of my hair. It was impossible to blow-dry in less than thirty minutes and I had only about ten before I had to leave. That would have to do.

I had to do laundry—and soon. I didn’t need to be super-dressed-up for my dad and his wife, but I knew my outfit—and Estelle’s—would be topics of conversation at the dinner table. Outside of our apparel and the typical “Have you seen any good movies lately?” question, my stepmom had nothing to talk to me about. To be fair, I had even less to say to her. My dad’s insult framed as a question, about my career, always came up toward the end of dinner. As predictable as the tide, he made me feel lousy about my job, no matter how much I loved it. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough. It would never be. He made me feel like shit.

I could hear Elodie’s voice as I got dressed. It sounded like she was trying to explain Scandal to her soldier friend. She was the absolute worst at explaining movies or shows to anyone. She always got character names confused and would spoil the ending without even meaning to. As someone who hated spoilers, I now knew better than to ask her about anything she had already seen.