So... I've neglected this. Sawwy. But you're getting a few updates tonight! So I don't own.
The first thing I saw when I was dropped off at the Swans' house? Rosalie chasing Bella with a pair of scissors. In the front yard. In plain sight. Not that anyone would call the police. Their dad was the police, and he didn't seem eager to stop them. Charlie Swan was loading fishing gear into his cruiser, and gave a little wave when I bounced up the driveway.
"Hey, Alice, how you been, kid?" he called.
"Good, Charlie! You?" I called back, walking backwards.
"Fine; going fishing."
"As always!" I said, laughing, before I bumped into something.
"Hello, there," a deep voice said, making me jump.
"Oh, hi!" I said, seeing that it was none other than Emmett. "Fancy seeing you here."
"You said you wanted to see what we had to work with?" he said, smiling hugely.
"Yeah, lead the way."
He smiled and led me into the familiar home. "Hey Aunt Renee, we're going to be ready to leave soon, I think!" he called.
"Okay, sweety, are the girls still fighting?" she called from -I assumed- the kitchen.
"Yes ma'am, Uncle Charlie gave up."
She then stormed out of the kitchen, looking ready for action. "Oh, hello dear, excuse me for a moment."
We didn't hang around to see what she was planning to do to Rose and Bella. Instead, Emmett led me to none other than the basement. It was fairly sizable, with a new wall built, I saw, separating the storage area from Emmett's new bedroom. The new wall had yet to be painted, and the rest of the walls were covered in paint testing marks. The floor had been fixed up -by Charlie I assumed- with a plain mock-hardwood top to cover that oh-so-attractive (sarcasm) concrete foundation. There was a plain wooden bed frame with simple white sheets and an old knit blanket thrown over the full size mattress, with a matching plain wooden dresser, a desk, and a nightstand.
"They gave me freedom, as long as I don't burn anything down or break anything," Emmett said. "The bedroom set is from a thrift store, and all of my stuff is in those boxes over there." He pointed to about four midsized boxes. "So, this is it."
I looked around at the paint samples, observing them. "What's your favorite color?"
He made a face. "What kind of a question is that?"
"If you're going to look at these walls for the next two years or more, then you need to see a color you like," I explained. "So now, what's your favorite color?"
"Blue I guess, but I'm not sure I want blue walls," he said.
"Well, what about the furniture, do you want it painted or finished?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Finished looks like real wood. We can sand and stain it, or we could sand and paint it."
He scratched his head. "I guess I like the natural look. What about a grey color for the walls?"
I studied him curiously for a moment, then shrugged. "Alrighty then. I need a piece of paper and a pen."
Emmett nodded and sprung into action. He went to his desk -which was strangely neat considering he was a guy- and got a small notepad and a pen, then gave them to me. I sat on his messily made bed and took notes on the room, making a list of everything we'd established would be done, a list of everything we needed, and a schedule of how we would accomplish it all in the least amount of time.
"So do you have books or anything that would require shelves?" I asked, looking at his boxes of possessions.
He shrugged. "I have some books and a few non-hanging pictures, but the books would fit under the nightstand and the pictures can go on the dresser or something."
"Okay. What about hanging things? You obviously don't have a closet, but we could put up some hooks in one corner and maybe put a curtain over them."
"Yeah, I have some hanging clothes, and I like your idea better than Aunt Renee's. She suggested I use the coat closet or ask the girls if I can put my church clothes with their's," he said, looking disturbed at the mere thought of sharing a closet with his cousins. "The last time I was in that closet was when I first moved in a week ago. Bella decided she was going to lock Rose in for revenge at spilling toothpaste in her hairbrush, and she heard me getting the extra pillows from the top shelf and thought it was Rose, so she locked me in and shoved the dresser in front of it. I was going to yell at her but she left and I was stuck in there for ten minutes until she ran into Rose in the kitchen."
I was about to fall over laughing. It was so…Rose and Bella. They were insane, and they were obviously overwhelming poor Emmett. "Okay then, hooks are a must."
Once we finally had a solid plan that we liked and that Renee approved of (going so far as to suggest I become an interior designer), we spent about two hours in the home improvement store, buying the paints and finishes, sandpaper, paint brushes, some accessories, painter's tape, and painting tarps. Boy, was the man helping us surprised when itty bitty me was ordering him and Emmett around. Emmett found it funny. The man…was highly confounded. But at least he listened and took me seriously.
That afternoon, we began the process of making Emmett's room his own. He'd be sleeping on the couch for a few days, but that's why we painted first, so he could go back to it as soon as possible and not suffocate from fumes. The next day, we were up early in the back yard, sanding and finishing the furniture. We prayed it wouldn't rain before the finish dried, and our prayers were answered. The next few days were fairly dry and we were able to begin actually putting the room together. I made the bed (with good bedding I made him get at one of the stores we wondered through before settling on the home improvement store) while he put his clothing away in his drawers and began to hang posters and photos. We worked together to neatly arrange several hooks on the newly built wall, then neatly hung a curtain. It worked out well, and even could be used as a changing room (the basement door had no lock yet).
By Friday, the room was complete. The smell of paint was out -after opening the few small windows, running portable fans, and spraying unholy amounts of Lysol- and it looked nice. It was obvious he'd had some help, but it was a guy's room.
As we admired our work Friday afternoon, Emmett threw an arm over my shoulders. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."
I would have laughed if he hadn't just spoken my exact thoughts aloud.
A/N: Super smilie time! Reviews?
~Sidney