Author's Note:
This story was inspired by a conversation I had with my friend while we were painting her new house. I got a spot of paint on my hand, and asked the question "What would Monk do if he had to paint?", and that was the birth of this story. While not actually a mystery, it was a fun exploration of Monk's reaction to being put in this situation.
Alas, I do not own Monk nor any of the characters in the story. I wrote this purely for my own amusement, and the amusement of anyone who finds it amusing.
Mr. Monk Paints a Room
Julie waited impatiently in Mr. Monk's entryway while her mom tried to disengage from her employer. It seemed that there was always just one more thing to do for Mr. Monk. Julie just wanted to get out of here and go to the hardware store. Natalie had promised that they could finally paint over the awful pink in her room, and Julie knew exactly what color she would choose. Voices drifted out from the kitchen and Julie sighed.
"Natalie, you missed a spot!" Mr. Monk sounded a little panicked. As usual.
"Mr. Monk, it's clean! I wiped it twice. Look, I really have to get going. Julie's waiting for me." Keys rattled as Natalie picked up her purse.
"You can't leave, Natalie. What if someone calls? What if we get a case?"
Natalie sighed. "Mr. Monk, you haven't had a case in weeks. I promised Julie we could paint her room this weekend. You gave me the time off."
Julie could almost see the expression on Mr. Monk's face. "I know, Natalie, and I'm really sorry. But I just can't let you leave. Do you know what today is?"
Judging by her tone of voice, Natalie was at the end of her patience. "No, Mr. Monk. What is today? Friday?"
Mr. Monk paused. "Well, yes, it is Friday. But more important than that, it's the anniversary of the last time I saw Sharona. You can't leave me today, Natalie! What if I never see you again?"
In the hall, Julie rolled her eyes, then sighed. It appeared that they would NOT be painting this weekend, after all.
"Mr. Monk, I promise you'll see me again." There was a pause, in which Julie could almost see Mr. Monk beginning to lose it. Suddenly, Natalie spoke again. "Hey, Mr. Monk! Why don't you come with us? You could help paint!"
"Oh, I don't think so, Natalie," Mr. Monk sounded reluctant. "Painting is so messy..." Julie rounded the corner into the kitchen. The last thing she wanted was for Mom's boss to come and ruin their time together. She opened her mouth to add her objections to Mr. Monk's, but Natalie was already talking.
"Come on, Mr. Monk, it will be fun! You haven't had a case in a long time; you need to get out of the house for a while. Julie would love for you to help, wouldn't you Julie?"
Still poised to argue, Julie looked from Mr. Monk's scared eyes to her mom's pleading ones. "Yeah, that would be great!" She finally said, inwardly resigning herself to his presence. "Come on, Mr. Monk! You can make sure we get the edges straight."
Mr. Monk still looked uncertain. "You can make the edges straight. Next weekend."
Julie opened her eyes wide and gave Mr. Monk her best innocent look. "It's harder than you would expect. I'm afraid I'd get paint on the trim. You're perfect for the job."
Mr. Monk stubbornly shook his head. Natalie's expression was just as stubborn, and Julie silently prayed for Mr. Monk to give in. It was the only way they would get the painting done today.
A few hours later, they had picked up primer, paint, rollers, brushes, gloves, painter's tape, and plastic from the hardware store, and had finished taping along the all the trim in the room. The painter's plastic had been carefully laid down on the floor, and Natalie was just finishing coating Mr. Monk in a suit of plastic, as well, while Julie poured primer into the pan.
"Make sure there are no holes. I don't want to get any paint on my suit."
"Don't worry, Mr. Monk. No paint will get in. Now, just put on these gloves, and I'll tape up the seam between the gloves and your sleeves."
Julie opened up the package of paintbrushes and held them out. "Which one would you like, Mr. Monk?"
He looked at all three brushes very carefully. Finally choosing one, Mr. Monk inspected it more closely, then pulled out a bristle. "That one was crooked," he explained.
Julie nodded, then dipped her choice of brush into the primer and climbed up on the step stool. "You and I will be doing all the edging," she explained. "Mom will do the roller. Now, what we need to do is just make sure she doesn't have to get too close to any edge. You need to get the trim all along the floor, and I'll get around the doors and windows and around the closet. We'll share the corners; you get the bottoms of them and I'll get the tops. Just get a nice even coat about the width of your paintbrush, and Mom should be able to get the wide spaces on the wall." Suiting action to word, Julie started outlining the window with primer.
Natalie's voice almost immediately shattered the peace in the room. "No, no, no Mr. Monk! What are you doing?"
Julie looked down to see Mr. Monk carefully attempting to peel the painter's tape off the trim. Figuring her mom could handle the situation, she got another brush-ful of paint and continued her work.
"I got some paint on it. I need to replace the painted tape with new tape," Mr. Monk said.
"No, Mr. Monk. It's ok to get paint on the tape. That's what it's there for," Natalie explained. "We'll take it all off when we're done."
"But there's paint on it," Mr. Monk replied. Julie sighed. It was going to be a long morning.
By lunchtime, the once baby pink room was covered in a coat of white primer, and they had used an extra half roll of tape. Julie and Natalie had various splashes of primer on them, and Natalie, who had been using the roller rather than a paintbrush, was speckled all up her arms and on her face. Mr. Monk, though wrapped in plastic, hadn't gotten even the smallest drop of paint on his protective gear.
Natalie turned in a circle, surveying the room, then addressed Julie and Mr. Monk. "It's fast-drying primer, so I think we can finish today. We should go get some lunch, then come back in a couple hours and get the topcoat on." She turned to Julie. "We can move all your stuff back in tomorrow, and you'll have an all new room!"
Julie grinned back at her mom. "Yeah, but you forgot something. We were going to do some stencils when the topcoat dries, remember?"
Natalie nodded. "You're right, Julie. We'll do those in the morning, and then we can move your furniture back in tomorrow evening. You'll still be able to sleep in your room tomorrow night. How about some lunch?"
Julie turned and started walking out the door arm in arm with her mom, each carrying their painting tool to be washed, when Mr. Monk spoke up from the middle of the room. "Help?"
Turning around, Julie had to suppress a smile. Mr. Monk was standing awkwardly, painter's plastic taped on over his everyday suit, looking hot and uncomfortable. The hood Natalie had made was ever so slightly askew, and Mr. Monk obviously needed help removing the makeshift protective gear. Natalie went back into the room and began tearing the plastic off her boss.
"Wait," Mr. Monk protested. "Don't rip it!"
"It's ok, Mr. Monk. We've got enough plastic, I can make you a new one this afternoon. We can just throw this one away." Natalie continued tearing plastic, and Julie giggled as Mr. Monk continued to protest.
Eager as Julie was to get back to painting, it was an hour and a half before Natalie and Mr. Monk were ready to suit him up again. Lunch with Mr. Monk was never easy, and today proved to be no exception. However, they finally got back up into Julie's bedroom, and Mom started wrapping Mr. Monk in the plastic, with copious quantities of tape to make sure there were no holes. Julie, meanwhile, stirred and poured the paint.
"Here you go, Mr. Monk. Here's your paintbrush back." Before Mr. Monk could say anything, Julie added, "I washed it really well for you; it's as clean and pristine as before we did the primer."
"I doubt it," Mr. Monk muttered, taking the brush and inspecting it closely. Julie watched confidently as Mr. Monk looked closer. Finally, he reached carefully into the very center of the brush, and pulled out another bristle. "It was bent, right here at the tip. See?"
Crestfallen, Julie leaned in to look. "No, I don't see, Mr. Monk. It looks perfectly straight to me."
Mr. Monk looked at the bristle again, then back at Julie. "It must have been in the brush crooked."
"Ok, Mr. Monk. Whatever you say." Julie turned and dipped her brush into the paint, then climbed the step ladder and began edging around the window in canary yellow. Behind her, Mr. Monk dipped his own brush into the paint and began on the trim below.
On her second dip into the paint, Julie's brush dripped as she brought it up to the wall. Below, Mr. Monk twitched suddenly, then gasped. "Wipe! Natalie, wipe!"
Julie looked down in consternation. There was a large yellow splotch on the back of his head. "Oh, Mr. Monk! I'm so sorry!"
Natalie came over trying to unwrap a wipe without getting any paint on it. "Oh, Mr. Monk. It's not even on you. It just got on your plastic."
His voice cracked as he replied. "Natalie, please. Wipe."
Sighing, Natalie finished getting the wipe out and applied it to the plastic on the back of Mr. Monk's head. "There. All gone." As Mr. Monk straightened up, Natalie surreptitiously wiped some of the paint from the wipe onto her finger. "Oh, wait. I missed a spot," she said quickly. Looking at the wipe, now covered in yellow paint, she looked back at his face. She reached up and quickly swiped her finger on Mr. Monk's cheek. "There. Got it."
Mr. Monk turned back toward the spot of wall he had been working on, Natalie winked at her daughter. Julie smothered a giggle as she returned to work. There was now a bright yellow streak under Mr. Monk's right eye.
Julie stepped back and surveyed her room as Natalie finished the last strokes with the roller. The walls glistened yellow. She did a little hop in the middle of the floor and clasped her hands together. "I love it! Mom, it's perfect!"
Natalie smiled, and grabbed Julie's shoulders. "I'm glad you like it, sweetie. Mr. Monk, what are you doing?"
Julie turned. Mr. Monk was dabbing at the walls with his paintbrush. "It's not even. See how streaky it is?"
Natalie walked over and took the brush away. "It doesn't dry evenly. It won't have streaks when it dries, I promise. It won't be splotchy or streaky." Mr. Monk didn't look convinced, and reached for the brush. Mom held it out of his reach. "Come on, Mr. Monk. Let's go into the living room and take your plastic off." Taking his arm, she steered her boss toward the door, setting the paintbrush on the tray. "Will you clean these for me, Julie?"
Julie nodded. "Sure, Mom." She picked up the implements and carried them carefully out behind her mom and Mr. Monk. She nearly jumped as Natalie's cell phone rang.
Natalie looked at the phone for a moment, then turned to Mr. Monk. "It's the captain. I wonder why he'd be calling this late. It's almost dinner time."
Mr. Monk shrugged. "I don't know, but it's probably important. Maybe it's a big case."
Julie continued carrying the paintbrushes and roller to the sink while her mom answered the call. She finished washing one brush, leaving the other brush and the roller to soak while she turned to face the adults, just as her mom got off the phone.
Natalie's voice was high with excitement. "It was the captain, and guess what, Mr. Monk? He's got a big case that he wants your help with! You've got a job!" She grinned and grabbed his arm.
"Does he want us to come down to the station, or is there a crime scene we need to go to?" Mr. Monk shrugged Natalie off his arm and straightened his tie, suddenly all detective.
"Crime scene," she answered. "Captain told me where it is. It will probably take us about a half hour to get there, so we should get moving. Just let me change out of my painting clothes. I'll be just a minute." Natalie dashed up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving Julie alone with Mr. Monk, who continued to stand in the middle of the kitchen, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Mr. Monk?" Julie grabbed a wipe from the counter and walked around to face him, leaning down to catch his eye. "I just want to thank you for helping us paint my room today. It was fun. And the trim around the floor is perfect."
Mr. Monk looked slightly surprised. "Really? You're really happy I was here today?"
Julie smiled, and reached up with the wipe to clean the paint off his cheek. "Yeah, Mr. Monk. I'm really glad you came." On impulse, she leaned in and threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Mr. Monk."
Mr. Monk froze for a second, then Julie felt his arm come around and pat her awkwardly on the shoulder.