Is this the final stop? (Toni Shalifoe)

Chapter 74

Toni and Shelby sit on the floor of Toni's bedroom, legs splayed out and eyebrows furrowed. Toni is holding in her hands the instructions to the new bedside table. Shelby's turning an Allen Wrench between her fingers, staring at all the separate pieces. Table legs, slabs of wood, about fifty small nuts and bolts.

"And you thought this was going to be fun?" Toni poses the question, tilting her head at Shelby.

Shelby's wearing a light blue cardigan with a maroon tank top. There's designs of different dreamcatchers on the front. The blonde clicks her tongue, "We got this, okay, Toni? We are not about to let some furniture instructions outsmart us, are we?"

Toni's face turns a shade darker, her cheeks blushing at this image of Shelby. Determined, focused, and darn-attractive. Like Martha knowing how to push her buttons, Shelby is appealing to Toni's competitiveness.

And it's working.

Toni puts it into gear and pushes herself off the edge of the bed, saying, "Give that to me." Toni takes the Allen Wrench, "Let's start at the beginning. Reread that first page, okay, Bee?" She offers out the instructions, holding it in her hand with the cast.

Shelby smiles at the name, "You caught what my mom calls me?"

"Yeah, I mean, if it's okay—"

Shelby answers her with a quick peck on the lips, "Very okay," she says, lips still brushing. As she's kissing Toni, Shelby smoothly plucks the instructions from Toni's now limp hand. "Now, are we kissin' or are we buildin' this?"

"Wait, I have a choice?"

"It's cute you think you have a choice." Shelby quips.

They turn to the disassembled table, focus, and realize the switched roles are much better. Shelby is great at translating the instructions on the page, and Toni is much more spatially aware. Nothing against reading, but words on a page don't always actually help her. She works well with her hands.

Shelby starts seeing the list of tools and organizes each into little piles. A pile of washers, a mound of baggies, some filled with felt pads, others with handles, and a towering stack of wooden legs. They are very neat and orderly.

Toni sits back on her good hand, watching this act of sorting. She plays with the cardboard box, flipping the flaps. But then she spots the price, "Holy shit!"

Shelby whips around, hands already patting on Toni's body, "What? What! Did you hurt yourself?"

Toni brushes Shelby off with ease, "I'm not even holding anything remotely dangerous. I'm fine. But Shelby, you guys shouldn't have spent that much." She doesn't let go of Shelby's hand, a thumb tenderly stroking her knuckles.

On me, the words go unsaid in Toni's mind.

Shelby rubs her face, trying to shake off the fear she felt in a flash. She looks at the four digit price on the box and shrugs, "You're worth it."

"Shelby."

"Toni," Shelby repeats in the same warning tone, as a way to show how unreasonable she's being. She sees Toni's apprehension. She flicks her eyes in between the design and Toni's disappointed face, "You like it do you?"

"Of course I like it—"

"And I like you, so I'm not seein' a 'holy shit' problem," Shelby imitates. Toni whistles at the cuss word from Shelby's mouth. Shelby rolls her eyes, "Can you focus?" But her own eyes drop to Toni's lips. She innocently flicks them back up.

And Toni props her arms up, resting her head on them, looking at her, eyes full of love, "Probably not."

Shelby playfully slaps at Toni, and just to tell her the truth, she says, "We didn't pay that price, if it helps."