I crossed my arms. "Oh yeah? How so?"
With a condescending smile, she said, "Thecurrenttrend is counter-less cupboards."
I shook my head. "What?"
"Counter-less cupboards," she repeated. And then, as if to drive the point home, she marched to the nearest upper cabinet and pulled open its door. With a delicate scoff, she said, "See? This will never do."
I looked, but saw only perfection. The cabinets looked wonderful. They evensmelledwonderful – all woodsy and clean, like the rest of the house, under Brody's expertise.
Hey, I could give credit where credit was due.
Grudgingly.
To Miss LaRue, I said, "I have no idea what you mean."
She pointed to the countertop just below the open cupboard. "The newest trend," she announced, "is to have the cabinet doorsskimthe countertop when they open." Her chin lifted. "Counter-less. See?"
I frowned. "So wait a minute. What you're telling me, is that you want to replacethesewith cabinets that will make the countertops impossible to actually use?"
She bristled. "No. That's not what I mean at all."
"Are you sure?" And then, as if speaking to a two-year-old, I said, "Because the way you describe it, any time you open a cabinet door, whatever's on the counter will be knocked off."
She gave a curt nod. "Right. It's the newest trend."
I was finding this a little hard to believe."Even if it is," I said, "it's totally stupid."
Her mouth tightened. "And why is that?"
"Because," I said, "what are you gonna do with your toaster? Or your coffee maker?"
"I presume you'll make toast. Or coffee." She gave a delicate scoff. "And your point is….?"
Obviously, she still wasn't getting it.
I marched to the same cupboard that she'd opened just a moment ago. I closed it and glanced around, searching for something to help make my point. On a nearby work bench, I finally spotted a big, crumpled fast food bag, obviously destined for the trash.
I set the bag on the granite countertop underneath the cabinet door that I'd just shut. With a smile, I pulled the door open again. As expected, the bag stayed put. "See?" I said.
Miss LaRue gave me an annoyed look. "Yes. I see. It's a bag. What of it?"
I shut the cabinet door. "Just bear with me." I glanced around and spotted some discarded cardboard. Using stray electrical tape, I taped the flat cardboard to the bottom of the cabinet door, extending the door so low, it would skim the countertop, just like she'd described.
Again, I opened the cabinet door. This time, the bottom of it – meaning the cardboard extension – knocked the bag onto the floor.
I looked to Miss LaRue. "See?" I said again.
She spared the bag half a glance. "It's still a bag."
"Right. But it could've been a toaster."
"Except it's not."
"But itcould'vebeen," I insisted. "I'm just saying, the way you describe it, you won't be able to put anything on the countertops."
"Yes. Well maybesomepeople prefer a clean look."
"Yeah? Well maybeotherpeople like to make toast in the morning." As I said it, I thought of Brody.He loved toast.In the mornings, he slathered it with butter, peanut butter,andjelly.
