“Who knows?” Chaya had said lightly. “Maybe these old, retro tiles will come back into style”
“I love painting walls!” Nechami opens the can of light-gray paint.
She pours a generous amount into a plastic basin, dips the roller brush in, and runs it merrily over the wall. Up, down, up. She fills in the edges carefully with a small brush.
“I’m glad to give you the opportunity,” Chaya says, opening a smaller can of metallic glitter paint. She starts spreading it on the accent wall. “I have my shiur with Rebbetzin Skurnik at nine. Can you manage here without me for an hour?”
“Sure. I’ll finish the first coat of paint, and while it’s drying I’ll put up the lace edging in your closets.”
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