Value Added

      Steve laughed over a headline in the paper: "Blue Jays must out-score opposition to win". Some things are just too obvious, he thought. We often miss the answers that are right in front of our noses.
      He was bored, but at least he was starting to feel better. The headache was gone, and he was starting to get hungry. Hospital food or not, it was time for breakfast.
      "Good morning, Mr. Alfredson, it's time for your hourly shot." A officious looking nurse offered up a huge hypodermic needle as proof.
      "Uh...my name's Newman. Steven Newman."
      "Come on now, Mr. Alfredson - it doesn't hurt that much."
      "No, really - I'm not Mr. Alfredson." Steve was getting a little nervous. "Don't you remember me? I had the concussion. I'm the guy you've been waking up every hour, on the hour, to shine a light in my eyes..."
      The nurse patiently read the clipboard gripped firmly in her other hand. "It says here: Jerome Alfredson, room 213, hourly booster shots..."
      "But aren't we in room 313?" Steve was getting irritated.
      "Mr. Alfredson," the nurse replied flatly, "Just because you changed rooms, doesn't mean you can get out of these shots."
      Steve held up his arm and showed her the plastic identification band. "Look here: 'S. Newman' - see? That's me!"
      The nurse grabbed his arm and inspected the tiny writing.
      "Hmm." she muttered, and marched briskly out of the room.
      Steve went back to his paper, but before he could read the next sentence, in walked the same nurse. Only this time she was holding a tiny flashlight.
      "Good morning, Mr. Newman, it's time to check your reflexes and vital signs."
      "Well, of course it is," grinned Steve. "I trust Mr. Alfredson got his shots..."
      "That's privileged information," she scorned and pointed the piercing light painfully into Steve's retina. "Now, how many fingers am I holding up?"
      "Two."
      Steve considered pointing out the fact that he had just been reading the morning paper - but then again, maybe this nurse suspected him of only pretending to read the paper. Besides, he was more concerned with getting something to eat at this point.
      "Is there any chance I can get some breakfast?" Steve was trying to sound subservient.
      "Not until you've been examined by your doctor."
      "Who is my doctor?"
      "Dr. Grange."
      "So...can I see this Dr. Grange?"
      "No."
      "Why not?"
      "He's busy right now."
      "With another patient?"
      "No, he's having his breakfast."
      "Then will he see me?"
      "No." The nurse headed for the door.
      "Why not?"
      "He's scheduled to see Mr. Newman."
      "But..."
      She was already gone, so Steve gave up on the idea. His headache was coming back, so he closed his eyes. All he could think about were bacon and eggs. He heard the sizzling sound in the frying pan. Then came the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee; he could feel that first hot sip touch his lips...and then for some reason, he saw an array of colourful paint chips.
      Paint chips, brushes and rollers. Plumbers and carpet samples. The last week seeped back into his tired mind. Why on earth did he let her talk him into this in the first place...

     
"Okay, okay", Kathy was starting to get excited, "We'll paint the whole place - really spruce it up!"
      Steve looked concerned. "I don't know, Honey...I'm really busy at work, and neither one of us has much experience with that sort of thing."
      "Stevie...Listen! Think of the value it will add to this place. It would be fun, and something the two of us could do together!"
      Her husband was weakening, so Kathy gave him her best pout.
      "Well...we do need to squeeze every penny out of this place. That new condo isn't cheap."
      Kathy kissed him quickly, and grabbed his arm. "C'mon - let's go, Home Value closes at ten."
      "But it's already..."
      "I know the time, silly - hurry. Get the car keys..."
      "Yes, dear." There was no point in arguing now.
      They arrived just as someone was trying to close up the front doors to the local Home Value outlet. Kathy smiled as she brushed past.
      "It's an emergency - we won't be long."
      The paint counter was devoid of customers. Two teenage boys dressed in the standard bright orange over-alls were arguing about which dance club to go to. Then they saw the look on Kathy's face. One immediately ducked behind a display case, but the other one turned to face her.
      "Um...uh - We're closing..."
      "Oh, please...we need a gallon of paint." Kathy was very persuasive when she wanted to be. "And rollers and brushes, too."
      "Um, okay. Do you know the colour, and the finish?"
      "White." said Steve, trying to sound business-like, and in charge. "Flat white."
      Kathy frowned. "Something in a greeny, bluey, purple - almost a golden-reddish..."
      "Muddy Gray?!" the hidden teen's voice derailed Kathy's train of thought momentarily.
      "No...but this looks about right." She held up a paint chip that caught her eye.
      Realizing that he'd given his position away anyway, the second teen stood up and went over to examine Kathy's selection.
      "Moonlit Lagoon." He called out.
      Steve looked at the chip. It was a very light sandy colour; almost white, really. He kind of liked it.
      "For the living room?" he asked.
      "Nope - hallway."
      "We're not going to start tonight, are we?"
      "Ohhhh, yes..."
      Even though it was 11:30 p.m. on a Tuesday night, Steve wasn't watching the news on TV. Instead, he was standing on a kitchen stool, and painting the edge between the hallway and it's ceiling. His neck was beginning to ache, and his legs were tight from stretching upwards.
      "We should get you a ladder tomorrow, Steve."
      Kathy was happily painting away with her roller. There was no logic to the direction she took, however. Steve watched in fascination as she suddenly changed directions, moving over to a fresh patch of wall.
      "I don't need a ladder. They're too expensive, and besides, I'm managing just fine with this stool." said Steve.
      "You're going to fall..."
      "...No, I won't. I have a very good sense of balance."
      "You're going to fall, and spill paint everywhere."
      Steve didn't reply. He was tired, and desperately trying to think of some excuse to wrap things up for the evening. There didn't seem to be any way out of it, so he quietly worked until the entire top section was finished.
      "There - I'm done." he announced proudly. "I'm just going to wash out my brush, and go to bed."
      "What about the second coat?"
      "Kathy, it's past midnight. Can't we finish this tomorrow night?"
      Steve saw the look on her face and realized he wasn't going to be sleeping for awhile. He turned tiredly back to the wall, but almost lost his footing on the tiny stool. Swinging wildly to one side, he managed to recover his balance without spilling any paint. Kathy smiled up at him.
      "I'm tired...that's all." Said Steve. "I don't need a ladder."
      "Sooner or later, you're going to fall..."
     

      Steve woke up slowly and rubbed his eyes. It was only 6:30 a.m., but Kathy was already up. Odd, he thought, she doesn't usually make herself breakfast during the week. As he made his way towards the kitchen, the smell of fresh paint jogged his memory.
      "Moonlit Lagoon." He said to himself. It did look nice.
      "Kathy! You making breakfast?" Steve walked into the kitchen, but his wife wasn't there.
      "I'm in the living room."
      Steve rounded the corner only to find the big couch was blocking his path. He peered around the room; nothing was where it was supposed to be. Eventually he spotted Kathy sitting on the floor, painting in her pajamas. She had paint in her hair, and paint on her nose. She stared at a small patch of wet paint and squinted her eyes.
      "What on earth..." Steve gasped.
      "I don't think this is quite right for this room; it needs a warmer colour." Kathy finally said in a rather decisive tone. "What time does Home Value open?
      "...Uhhh..."
      "Never mind. I'll go at lunch. I'm going to get us a credit card there. Did you sleep well?"
      "Okay..." said Steve, surveying the mess, "Listen, please don't go overboard, we have to put a big down payment on the new condo soon."
      "I know, I know...but I don't want to use cheap paint. I want this place to look great!"

      Steve pulled into his old, familiar driveway. He could feel the cracks beneath his tires as he rolled to a stop. He smiled. The new place would have everything, including valet parking.
      It was late, and he secretly hoped that his wife had finished decorating for the evening. As he opened the front door, Steve was immediately hit with the distinctive smell of latex paint. He was starting to get used to it now.
      "Hi, Honey. I'm glad you're home. Go get changed and grab a paint-brush..." Kathy yelled from the living room.
      Damn, he thought, it looks like I'm not watching the game tonight. He went into the living room. Sheets of plastic covered all the furniture. One wall was already painted a solid colour, and the adjacent wall had two different test patches on it. Kathy ran up to him.
      "Isn't this great?" her enthusiasm was contagious. "I tried several different shades until I settled on the darker one."
      "Hmmm...it's nice, but did it really need painting?"
      "Yes." Kathy kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Now go get ready. Grab the new gallon of paint in the bedroom; the prairie-something satin finish. You can start on the long wall, while I finish up over here."
      Steve changed into some old clothes, and looked longingly at the TV set in the den. He decided to turn the sound up so he could at least hear the game while he worked. There were three cans of paint on the bedroom floor, two of which were unopened. He examined the first. The label read "Golden Prairie Satin". Just to be sure, he looked at the other two: "Big Sky Prairie Flat" and "Prairie Sunset Eggshell". His first choice seemed to be the best bet.
      "Kathy, is this the one: 'Golden Prairie Satin'?"
      He opened the can, and she looked inside quickly. "Ya, ya...now come on, you're not going to let me finish my half first, are you?"
      "Um...maybe."
      Soon Steve was painting his wall, and starting to get into the spirit of the competition. He could hear the baseball game coming from the other room, and the Blue Jays were winning.
      "Steve?"
      "Uh-huh?"
      "Isn't this fun?"
      "Yes, it is actually. But tell me something - are we going to do this all over again once we move to the condo?"
      Kathy didn't answer right away. "I guess so, but just think of this as practice."
      "Sure...and if I get real good at it, I can get a second job painting people's houses in the weekends."
      Kathy frowned. "Very funny. You just make sure I don't get to the corner before you do, smarty-pants!"
      With that, they both started painting in earnest, neither one wanting to lag behind the other. Kathy eventually finished first, but not by much.
      "Ha, ha...I win!" She laughed.
      "Hey - look," said Steve, "You missed a spot. You're disqualified."
      He took his roller, and went over an area where streaks showed through from the old paint. Something was wrong. Steve's paint was a little lighter, with less yellow in it.
      "Ooops..." Kathy's eyes widened. "I think you used the wrong can. That's the other 'Big Prairie'." Then she giggled. "Looks like you're going to have to paint over your wall again."
      "What? Why me? Why am I the one who has to re-paint?"
      "Because I'm tired, Honey." she pouted at Steve. "Besides, I'm going to look through some carpet samples.
      "You want to replace the carpet?" Steve was getting irritated.
      "...Maybe..." she suppressed a smile, "...Or maybe we could just paint it to match the new walls."
      Steve was flabbergasted. "What? are you kidding?"
      Kathy started to laugh. "Yes. Of course I'm kidding..."

      Although he tried to avoid it, Steve found himself working late again. He hesitated as he stood at the front door - Kathy had been home for hours by now. As he slowly peered into the front hall, he heard an unfamiliar voice. Kathy had company, he thought, and that means no renovations tonight.
      "Oh, Steve - you're home." Kathy looked up from her conversation with a strange man in the kitchen. "This is Frank. He works at my office, and guess what?"
      Steve shook hands with Frank suspiciously.
      "Frank's also a plumber in his spare time." said Kathy.
      "A plumber?"
      "Yes. Isn't that great? Listen, we're going to get over to Home Value before they close...oh, there's some pizza left over, if you like. And could you be a dear and finish the top trim in the living room? I couldn't reach up there."
      "Kathy," Steve whispered to his wife, "...why do we need a plumber?"
      "I can't talk now, they close in 10 minutes..."
      Steve resigned himself to finishing off the living room. It didn't take more than a half hour. At one point he lost his balance on the wobbly stool, and had to jump clear as it toppled over. Fortunately for him, his bucket was virtually empty, and not a drop of paint was spilled.
      Exhaustion crept over Steve. But he had done his part for the night, so he headed into the bathroom to wash up. He opened the door with his foot, so as not to spread paint from his hands. For the very same reason, he didn't bother to turn on the light, either. He reached forward to turn on the tap.
      He couldn't find it. Irritated now, Steve turned the lights on. He soon realized the problem - there was no tap. In fact, there was no bathroom to speak of. Sure, there was a large white object that he assumed was the upside-down remnants of a toilet, but that was about it.
      "Oh - My - God." Steve said quietly to himself. Then he noticed a note stuck to the wall. It read:
      "Stevie - if you really have to go, DON'T use this bathroom."
      Steve started to laugh at the under statement, when he suddenly realized - he did have to go. Before he could decide his next move, he heard Kathy coming into the house. Her arms were full of packages, and he could see pipes and faucets sticking out of one bag.
      "Hi, Honey." Steve was using his patient voice. "...What happened to the bathroom?"
      Kathy put everything down. She could see that he wasn't pleased. "I hope you're not mad, but there was a big sale on taps and sinks this week...Frank said that he could replace ours in an hour or so..."
      "Is Frank here?"
      "Yup, he's bringing in the new sink from the car."
      Steve met Frank at the door, and helped him in with his load.
      "Tell me, something, Frank - can you really do this tonight?"
      "Sure. No problem, guy." said Frank, sensing Steve's frustration.
      "Well, that's very nice of you...working on such short notice. But I've got a favour to ask - can you put my toilet back together first?"
      "Oh, ya." Frank was sympathetic. He thought for a moment. "Five minutes, tops."
      "Great," Steve was relieved about that bit of news. "But Frank...
      "Yes, guy?"
      "Why did my wife get you to take it apart in the first place?"
      Frank paused. "...You probably don't want to know."
      "No," said Steve slowly, "I probably don't."

      "I guess we'd better paint in here, too." Steve yawned as he admired the shiny new faucets and sink. He hated to admit it, but the bathroom additions were a vast improvement. He noticed a smug look on Kathy's face.
      "You look terrific for so early in the morning." Steve gave his wife a quick hug.
      She smiled. "Thanks."
      "The bathroom's nice, too. Frank did a great job."
      Kathy smiled again. "...You know, Steve, we could pick out the paint this morning. Home Value opens at eight o'clock..."
      "Sure, why not?" Steve was now enjoying the whole process of renovating. He felt a certain sense of satisfaction.
      They arrived in front of Home Value at five minutes to eight. An older employee looked at Kathy through the glass, and then unlocked the door.
      "Good morning, Mrs. Newman." he said in an unmistakably English accent. "I wasn't altogether sure if you managed to leave last night. I pondered the possibility of giving you your own key, but my manager informs me that store policy precludes such a move."
      "Hi, Burt. Don't you ever get any time off?" Kathy asked cheerfully.
      "I've apparently been keeping longer hours since you've become our most valued customer..."
      Steve grinned at Burt as he and Kathy entered the empty store. "I see you've met my wife."
      "Yes...we're all quite familiar with her..."
      "Steve. C'mon - the paint's down this isle." Kathy shouted impatiently just as she disappeared from sight.
      When Steve finally caught up to her, Kathy was pulling paint samples out of the display as fast as she could. She excitedly held up two bright green chips for Steve to examine.
      "Which do you like?"
      "Hmmm...they're both very...green." Steve frowned slightly.
      "I like this one: 'Emerald Morning'. Don't you think it will complement the new taps?"
      "It might be a little bit much..."
      "Don't be silly. Bold is in right now. And look at the quality of this paint...it costs almost twice as much as the regular stuff!" Kathy put the other samples down, and headed towards the paint mixing station.
      "Well...that certainly makes a difference, then." Steve muttered to himself.
      He didn't like the green at all, so Steve decided to make another attempt at changing Kathy's mind.
      "Listen, Honey...why don't we just paint the bathroom white, and then think about the green for awhile?"
      Kathy seemed hesitant for a second. "But...no, I like it. Besides, Emerald Morning sounds so right."
      "Whatever," Steve was losing interest, "I won't have to look at it for very long, anyway."
      "That's right." Kathy was noticeably angry. She paid for the paint without saying a word.
      Since Steve had so much on his mind, he was already planning the day at work. As they left the store, he sensed that something must be bothering his wife - something more than a disagreement over the colour green. He was in a hurry, however, so he didn't pursue the subject any further.

      When Steve got home, there was no sign of Kathy. That was disappointing. They had been cool towards one another earlier, and he wanted to patch things up. Then he remembered her saying something about going out with her friend Barb. If that was the case, she would be home later, and they could talk then.
      While cooking himself dinner, Steve came up with an idea. Why not paint the bathroom himself? If meant that much to Kathy, then he would paint it the ugliest green in the world...He was now on a mission.
      Steve searched through the various paint cans in the hallway, and spotted the gallon of "Emerald Morning". He marched determinedly into the bathroom, carrying his paint-splattered kitchen stool. They never did buy a ladder - at least somebody was budget-conscious, he thought to himself.
      When he opened the expensive green paint, he was puzzled to find the can barely three quarters full.
      "Maybe you only get half a can of the ritzy stuff." he said to nobody in particular.
      Steve smiled at his wife's extravagance as he filled the paint tray. Just as he was about to put the roller onto the wall, he noticed how clean it was. Then it hit him - the wall had been recently painted white.
      What a sweet-heart, thought Steve, realizing that Kathy must have taken his suggestion to heart. She had painted the bathroom white for the same reason he was about to paint it green.
      In just over an hour, Steve was done. He stepped back to look at the finished job. In an attempt to be opened-minded, he squinted his eyes and stared at the wall. He closed his eyes, and then opened them quickly. But no matter what he did, the bright green was awful.
      Just then Steve heard voices at the front door. It was Kathy and Barb. He went to greet the two women with a smile on his face; the kind of smile you have when you are about to give somebody some really good news.
      "I have a surprise for you, Kathy." said Steve, and then added: "Hi Barb."
      "Really?" Kathy could see his impatience.
      "Yup, come an see what I did to the bathroom..."
      Kathy and Barb looked at one another, and they both giggled. As they followed behind Steve, Barb spoke on behalf of the two.
      "We, ah...did some work as well, Steve. We painted the bathroom a nice, plain, conservative white."
      The women giggled again.
      Steve turned around just as he reached the bathroom door. "Yes, but look what I did..."
      They all stepped into an overwhelming sea of bright neon green that was now the Newman's bathroom. Kathy and Barb stood there with their mouths open for a few seconds, and then fell against each other laughing.
      Steve turned around with a puzzled smile. "What's so funny? ...Have you two been drinking?"
      Neither woman could stop laughing long enough to answer him. Steve looked back to see what was so amusing. He still didn't understand, but noticed a small area that needed touching up. It was near the ceiling, so he dipped a small brush in paint, and climbed on top of the stool.
      "I've worked for hours on this!" Steve was feeling defensive as he carefully covered over the remaining patch of white. He started to lean forward slightly, but his stool wobbled, so he thought better of it.
      "Steve..." Kathy finally burst out, "That is the UGLIEST green I've ever seen..."
      They were both snickering and giggling, but Barb managed to stop long enough to attempt an explanation:
      "We already tried that colour...and it looked horrible..."
      "...So we rushed out and bought some white paint to cover it up!" Kathy added before falling down in helpless laughter again.
      Steve stared blankly down while he tried to fathom what they were telling him. The absurdity of the situation finally sunk in, and he almost dropped his brush.
      "Well, of all the..." Steve was leaning too far forward, so he compensated by jerking back. "I thought you said bold was in..."
      Steve managed to correct his own balance, but the stool seemed to have a mind of it's own. It spun around on two legs, and sent Steve flying backwards. As he hit the ground, Steve's only concern was the amount of ugly green paint remaining in the aluminum tray as it flipped end over end. There was a nasty hollow thud, as something heavy hit the bathtub. Before he had time to realize what that something was, Steve's world turned a peaceful, inexpensive, flat, one-coat black.

      "How are you, sweetie?"
      Steve looked up to see a look of concerned etched all over his wife's face. There was also more than a trace of "moonlit lagoon".
      "Is that what the grieving widow does these days, re-paint the hallway?"
      "I was really worried about you, Steve." Kathy responded. "I couldn't sleep, so did the closets to match the hall...I left the bathroom for now..."
      "Well, don't worry. I'm fine." He held her hand firmly.
      "I bought you a little present on the way over..." Kathy kissed him on the forehead.
      "An egg McMuffin?"
      "No, silly...a portable step ladder!"
      "Oh, thanks." said Steve, and then added, "Is that your way of saying 'I told you so'?"
      "Well...I did tell you..."
      "Okay, okay." then Steve suddenly smiled. "Say...do you think that ladder will reach the window over there? I have a plan to make a break for it tonight..."
      "Don't be silly, I talked to your doctor, and he said you're going to be released today."
      "Either that, or Mr. Alfredson won't be getting any more needles..." Steve laughed.
      "What?"
      "It's an in joke."
      "Oh..."
      They both sat in silence for awhile. Kathy finally spoke up.
      "I talked to the real estate agent today."
      "What did she say?"
      "She was really impressed when she heard about the work we've been doing. She said it'll definitely speed up the sale."
      "I must admit," said Steve, "we've been doing a great job together. It's almost a shame to move now..."
      "Steve..." Kathy squeezed his hand gently. She hesitated.
      "Listen, Honey - the deal on the condo isn't final." said Steve. "We can back out of it today."
      "Seriously?"
      "Yes, I've been lying here thinking about it all morning. We're in a nice neighborhood, with a backyard and a garden. What better place to raise a family?"
      "Oh, Steve!" Kathy gave him a huge hug. "I so glad you feel that way. I know exactly what we can do. A big cedar fence and matching deck with parasol umbrellas - not the cheap vinyl ones, but hand stitched canvas. Then we'll put in a flagstone path with trimmed hedges...Oh, and a little solarium...and all the floors should be re-done with oak hardwood...no, what about Italian marble...and, of course, a second bathroom. It's expensive, but we can do all the work ourselves..."
      Steve smiled up at his wife. It was this very enthusiasm that attracted him to Kathy in the first place. Besides, once she set her mind to something, that was the end of any rational discussion.
      "Well," said Steve, "at least I have my own ladder."