Karma kitty's Arc

Chapter 3 of 8

The inside of the house still failed the inspector's list. Karma had the walls and the roof, but the empty rooms needed fixtures, and fixtures needed money she did not have. She had to wait for paychecks. So she walked the neighborhood to clear her head, and that is when she saw the tub. It sat in the yard next door with a hand-lettered for-sale sign taped to its side. Cast iron. Clawed feet. The paint had cracked and peeled to rust, but the shape was perfect. Karma stopped and stared. That tub could anchor the whole upstairs. A young man sat reading on the porch steps. Dark hair fell over his eyes. He closed his book on one finger and stood, then crossed the grass toward her. She braced for a stranger's small talk. "You bought the old place, right?" he said. "Thank you. I watched it rot for years." He nodded at her purple door across the way. "You made it look alive again." "Karma," she said. "Rowan. I work at the library." He glanced at the tub. "You like it." "I love it. But I'm broke." She said it plain. "I sank everything into the foundation." Rowan looked back at his own house. His front door hung crooked, split down one panel. The trim was bare and gray. "Tell you what," he said. "Fix my door and paint it. The tub's yours. No cash." Karma had leftover paint. She had a spare window cover rolled up in her sunroom. She stuck out her hand. "Deal." She worked the rest of the afternoon. She reset the hinges and sanded the split panel smooth. She rolled dark trim around the frame, then brushed the door a deep purple to match her own. She hung her spare floral cover behind the door's window. Rowan brought her water and read on the steps. He did not hover. She liked that. When the paint dried, his door stood straight and glowed. Rowan ran his thumb along the frame. "It's better than it ever was," he said. Then he helped her carry the tub across both yards and up her stairs, and they set it in the empty bathroom. Catpocino appeared at once. The black cat circled the clawed feet and sniffed the rust. Karma knelt with a wire brush and started to strip the old paint. Flakes fell like snow. She worked into the night while the cat watched from the doorway. By morning the tub was clean iron, ready for primer. She painted it black with copper on the feet. Catpocino occasionally strolling by to take a peek. The upstairs bathroom finally had its centerpiece. One room on the inspector's list had begun. But the tub needed plumbing to pass. Pipes. A drain. And Water lines. Karma sat on the cold floor and looked at the bare wall behind the tub. Almost there.