“I am so thrilled to win this award. For so long, I didn’t think I’d ever get here. I’d like to thank my noise-canceling headphones, the resilience of painter’s tape, and the miracle of dry shampoo for getting me through this emotionally trying time. I’d also like to thank Owen for not filing a noise complaint when I sang my way through every girl pop anthem in the shower. And finally, to the crew of Demo Daydreams: your chaos is matched only by your charm. Long live actual walls.”
“And to the plastic wall,” Owen says, “may your retirement be loud and rustly, somewhere far, far away.”
“Here, here,” Reese says. “And on that note, I think it’s time for… the awards ceremony!” Reese takes my spot, and I sit back down next to Owen. “I’m not going to say who wrote each of these—I’ll let you figure it out on your own. Drum roll, please.”
Owen and I each drum on our thighs.
Reese picks up the first certificate. They’re actual certificates with a blank line that we wrote on. “Okay, the ‘Best live performance’ goes to… The Hop-shimmy Sock Solo: Owen’s shirtless performance of his to-do list song!”
Reese and I both cheer, and Owen stands to take a little bow before accepting his certificate. I love that he’s a good sport about this, especially because someday, I hope to get a repeat performance.
“And the ‘Most Cheerful Shower Crooner’ award goes to… Charlie, for her belting out of the songUnwrittenright as the water betrayed her.”
My head whips to Owen. “You heard me? But I was upstairs!”
“Yes, but to be fair, it was more a product of the volume and because our bathrooms also share a wall than it was a lack of a wall down here. Although not having a wall down here did make it feel more in stereo.”
I take a deep breath, stand, bow, and accept my certificate.
Reese holds up the next certificate. “Okay, the award for ‘Best Backup Wall’ goes to… Painter’s Tape and Thin Plastic! Since they are no longer here to accept their award, we’ll ship it to them in this week’s garbage bag.”
We all cheer. I am grateful for the painters’ tape and roll of plastic that the repairmen put up. We had some good times.
“And the ‘Best Rocking out to Music’ award goes to… Oh! Me, for ‘dancing and singing along toLivin’ on a Prayerwhile sweeping.’” Her eyes go wide as she turns to Owen. “Nooooo. You did not see that!”
“It was fuzzy through the plastic, but yes.”
“You didn’t! I checked for your truck—you weren’t home!”
“Maybe when you started, but I came home when you already had the music blasting.”
Reese takes a slow, deep breath, waving her hand like she’s trying to send more oxygen her way. Then says, “It’s okay. I’m over it. Besides, I have great dance moves. Okay, final award. This one, ‘Most Timely and Much Appreciated Rescue’ goes to Owen, for his ‘gift of light in the time of great darkness and cookies in the time of great hunger.’Awww!”
Owen looks at me with an expression that I like, but I can’t quite read, and I somehow feel the intensity of the emotion deep in my core. Then he gets up, takes a bow, and accepts his award.
I’m not sure how to react to that, so I pick up myplastic cup and say, “I think this deserves a toast.” Reese and Owen pick up their cups, too, so I say, “To the wall!” and we all clink cups. Except it’s more of a dull ping than a clink.
Then Owen says, “And to eventually getting a kitchen sink again!” And we all clink-ping. I really can’t wait for that day. Owen studies his Solo cup. “You know, it feels weird to use these now that they no longer match the quality of our wall.”
“And,” Reese says, “To being able to use non-disposable dishes again soon!” And we plink cups.
I’m not ready for the evening to end, and I’m glad that Owen and Reese don’t seem to be, either. So we draw more slips of paper from the fondue pot—I swear that Reese made like fifty of them—and keep sharing about this crazy experience. The longer we go, the more we laugh until our guts hurt. And I soak in every minute of it. Gosh, I love spending time with this man.
Eventually, though, the night has to end because Reese and I have an early day tomorrow. As I am walking Owen to our door, he says, “Is it weird that I’m going to miss our plastic wall?”
I shake my head and say, “No.” Then I pause. “Well, yes, it is weird. But I’m going to miss it, too.”
We stop at the door, and Owen looks at me again like he can see right into me. I can’t stop looking at him, either, but I don’t seem to have hisability to see into a person. There is so much more about him that I want to know.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” He’s tilting his head a bit, his voice is low, and his eyes are soft.
I shake my head. “I’m going straight from work to Mackenzie’s to help with last-minute wedding prep.”
“So I’ll see you next at the wedding? I’m guessing you’ll need to be there much earlier than you want me there.”
I’m nodding, but I can’t stop looking from his eyes to his lips. Then it suddenly hits me. “Oh! We should exchange phone numbers! It’s weird that we haven’t already.”
“We’ve had such easy access through our wall that I guess we haven’t needed it.”
