Tile N All - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 132

Jane called me at work the following week.
“We've run out of ceramic tiles.”
I got up from my desk and closed the door.
“What do you mean?”
“Neither bedroom floor is finished, and we're out of tiles.”
My head spun. After all we'd gone through finding the tiles we wanted, this couldn't be
happening.
“But Steve bought more than enough tiles. I told him to buy the whole warehouse full if
he had to.”
“Yeah, I know, but he didn't. Pablo was with him when he placed the order. He was short
on cash and bought less than he needed. Frankie at Nales told him they had a huge stock and
he didn't need to worry. But someone came along and bought the rest in the meantime.”
My mind rushed ahead, imagining the outcome. The living/dining room would have one
kind of floor, the bedrooms another. The visual flow from one room to another would be
disturbed, the overall effect of spaciousness ruined. We would be social outcasts.
“What can we do?” I asked numbly.
“I'm on my way to Nales to find Frankie and make him search his warehouse from top
to bottom. I'll call you back from there.”
I dreaded telling Michael. Although he'd take this latest blow in stride as always, he was
sure to be upset. In the end I decided to wait until I heard from Jane.
Two hours passed, then three. No call. I sat through a meeting in a complete daze and
when it was over I rushed back to my desk to see if she'd left a message.
Nothing.
I tried her number. She didn't pick up. I realized this didn't mean anything—cell service
around the island was spotty—but I felt my shoulders tighten up even more. If she hadn't
called by the time I was ready to leave for the day I'd try her again. Twenty minutes later the
phone rang.
“Frankie and I ransacked the place. There's not one tile left.”
“Oh my God,” I wailed dramatically.
“But I have a couple of ideas.”
Her suggestions weren't bad: pull up the tiles that had already been laid in the bedrooms
and either completely replace them with as close a match as possible or use them as a border
around a central section of contrasting tiles. But I was still in denial.
“Did you check the other hardware stores?”
Jane sighed.
“Frankie bought your tile in Miami. What are the chances that another vendor in Vieques
is going to have that same style?”
She was right. I felt sick.
“Thanks Jane. Let me talk to Michael.”