A Mile in My Flip-Flops by Melody Carlson

said you gave instructions to remove them.”
    “I gave them cleaning stuff and told them to clean them.”
    “In English?”
    “No, I’ve been trying to use what little Spanish I know.” I dig in my bag, pulling out the little English to Spanish dictionary that I’ve been relying on.
    “Tell me exactly what you told them,” says Dad.
    So I repeat, as best I can, what I think I said, and he just nods.
    “What did I say?” I ask.
    “To remove the cabinets.”
    “Oh…”
    “That was an expensive mistake, Gretchen.”
    “Oh my goodness. What do we do now?”
    “We order new cabinets. Fortunately one of the guys on the crew has a brother-in-law who’s a cabinetmaker. They won’t be top-of-the-line, but they should be okay.”
    “I’m sorry, Dad.” I’m on the verge of tears. I can’t believe I blew it so badly. From now on I will keep my mouth shut or make sure my dad translates for me.
    He forces a smile now. “Maybe it’s for the best, sweetie. They say kitchens are the most important selling feature in homes these days.”
    “And bathrooms,” I add.
    He frowns now. “Well, don’t get me started on that. Those bathrooms are a disaster.”
    “A disaster that you don’t need to worry about,” I remind him for the thousandth time.
    “Then who are you going to get to replace those floor joists?”
    I consider this. “Well, I don’t know right now … but it won’t be you.” I put my face close to his and look into his eyes. “Okay?”
    He grumbles something I can’t hear, then asks if he can borrow my phone. I hand it to him and start walking around to inspect my house. Most of the hardwood floors seem to be fairly solid but, as Dad pointed out, are in need of serious refinishing. At least I didn’t ask the work crew to “clean” them too.
    “I asked Noah Campbell to stop by today,” Dad tells me as he hands me my phone.
    “Why?”
    “Because we need some help, Gretchen.”
    “But why Noah?” I persist. It’s not that I don’t like Noah Campbell, but last Christmas my dad tried to fix us up at his annual Christmas party, and I guess I just wasn’t ready for it. Then Dad seemed offended when I gave Noah the cold shoulder. Later he asked me what was wrong with the guy. Well, obviously, there was nothing wrong with Noah. I mean, not only is he a perfectly nice guy, but he’s also gorgeous. In fact, that might’ve been part of the problem. Gorgeous guys tend to scare me. So as Dad continued to pester me about Noah, the only thing I could come up with was to say it bothered me that he is divorced.
    And, okay, I know lots of divorced people. And, really, it’s nothing personal, but the truth is that I have absolutely no desire to get involved with a guy who’s been divorced. Call me stubborn or judgmental or narrow minded, but I’ve always imagined myself marrying someone who’s never been married. It’s just an expectation I’ve carried with me since childhood. And to make matters more complicated, Noah has a child that he and his ex share custody for. BecauseI teach kindergarten, I’ve seen what that does to kids and parents and exes and everyone. And, I’m sorry, but that is just too much baggage for me. Especially considering I have my own baggage to deal with. As much as I like to think that time heals all wounds, I know I still have some scars. And that’s basically what I told Dad. Without going into all the details, I told him I was not interested. Fortunately, it shut him up and got him off my case about Noah. Until now.
    “Noah is an excellent carpenter … and he’s not busy.”
    “If he’s such an excellent carpenter, why isn’t he busy?”
    Dad shrugs. “I’m not sure. But I was chatting with him a couple of weeks ago, and he mentioned that he was trying to slow things down.”
    “Why is he slowing things down?” I ask, knowing that it’s none of my business and that I’m acting like a very wet blanket. “He seems a little young to retire, don’t you