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I pulled the curtains back to see how good the natural light was. It was absolutely gorgeous in the middle of the afternoon, almost the evening.
“This will do beautifully for putting together jewelry,” I mused.
Then, I went downstairs to find my beading table.
It had probably ended up in the dining room, where I found Jesse enjoying some ravioli. To be honest, it smelled delicious. In all the chaos of the move, I had forgotten to eat lunch. My stomach gurgled loudly, and I felt my cheeks flushing.
“You’re more than welcome to anything in the fridge, freezer, or pantry tonight,” Jesse said without looking up from his phone.
It might have been my imagination, but it felt like he put extra emphasis on the word tonight. It made me bristle a bit, like he expected me to just start stealing his food every day and he wanted to make it clear that I was only welcome to nab a toast with peanut butter tonight.
“I figured that it would be easier for you to use something that was already here than worrying about eating out or trying to go grocery shopping today, too,” he finished.
“Thank you, Jesse,” I tried to chill out. I really was hungry. “Maybe I should eat something before moving my beading table…” I pursed my lips as I surveyed the items that had ended up in the dining room. How had my stuff already ended up all over this house? I couldn’t see the beading table amidst the boxes.
I could’ve sworn I’d hauled it in here…
“Are you looking for something?”
“It’s a silver table. It looks like a normal table from the top, but if you were to look at it from the side, the sides have been raised,” I explained. “It’s for my beading. I need it upstairs.”
“That’s a table?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was something for the kitchen. I put it in the pantry.”
My body froze for a second at that, and I felt my jaw clench. First of all, I was mad that he’d just moved my stuff without asking. Second, food was the one thing that I worked incredibly hard to keep away from my jewelry for so many reasons.
Not even his short dark hair, handsome features, and scowl would save him if I found food on the felt surface of the beading table.
“For future reference, while you’re home,” I started softly, “I’d appreciate it if you kept food away from my beading. One wrong move, and you don’t know what might stain the glass beads I use. And the felt will pretty much be ruined from the spill regardless of what it is you’ve spilled.” I paused. “Honestly, I’d just appreciate it if you let me take care of moving my stuff, okay?”
I looked at him, hoping that I had kept my voice even enough so that my anger didn’t show through. I needed him to get the message.
He shrugged and nodded.
The level of nonchalance he showed me baffled me. Clearly, he was not looking to treat me as a roommate but as a stranger—despite the fact that we were in fact roommates and that he’d already just moved a piece of my furniture to the pantry, of all places.
I pulled my beading table out of the pantry and gave it a good look over. Especially the beading area. I had custom-ordered mine to be made from metal so that I could fold it and move it around the apartment I had previously been in. The top was down, which meant that the felt inside and the whole beading area had stayed protected and untouched.
I gently picked it up and remembered why I had made sure it would roll if needed. Thankfully, I had also remembered to make sure to pick the wheels that locked. It had set me back a pretty penny, and I’d only been able to use it a handful of times so far, but now I had a feeling that it was about to become an investment worth every penny.
“Do you need help getting that upstairs?” Jesse’s voice came from the dining room, though there was obviously no enthusiasm behind the offer.
I looked through the doorway to the dining room. He hadn’t moved from his bowl of ravioli. Hadn’t even looked up from his phone. The fact that he offered was nice, but he could have at least made it look sincere. Or was he afraid that if he made it look like a sincere offer, I would take him up on it, and then he’d really be stuck?
It seemed like his generosity in helping me unload had run out the moment the truck was empty. His offer to help was limited to exactly what he’d said in his initial text and no more. Once my stuff was inside, his part was done.
I was miffed but also impressed. At least I could hold him to his word and know that it was what he meant. After all of the other men in my life who had played games, I appreciated that he was at least an honest grump.
“Nope. I can get it up there myself. I had to pick it up from the office when I originally ordered it and carry it up three flights of stairs. I carried it down three flights of stairs to move out, too,” I told him. I didn’t need his help, and I wanted to make sure he knew it.
Without another word, I lugged the beading table upstairs. I set it up under the window. This would be a fine set up. With an imaginary line down the center of the room, I could easily keep my workout station separate from my beading work. The window would provide good natural lighting during the day for the task, and I could get a small lamp in here to help with nighttime beading.
I pulled my desk up from downstairs as well. It fit perfectly next to my beading table. I needed this to work on sending out packages from my online orders, and it was where my desktop would sit.
The rest of the beading things I wanted were in my room.
I rolled a chest of drawers into the closet in the office and hung some organizer-pockets off the back of the door. The chest of drawers stored all the unopened beads and the large organizers that I didn’t need when I was working on a single project. It also held my felt, thread, needles, etc. The bottom drawer was empty, and I made a mental note to pick up more boxes and bubble mailers.
With all the beading mostly in one room now, my bedroom had a little more room for a few more things.
