Hometown Reunion. Pam Andrews

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СКАЧАТЬ breathless seeing him again.

      “Sorry I’m late.” He didn’t explain why.

      “I was just looking around. It looks worse in the daylight.”

      He laughed. “I think they’d be better off building a new place on the outskirts of town, but that isn’t what they want.”

      “No, my aunt made it plain that they’re hoping to revive Main Street.”

      “I thought they’d have trouble getting a cook. A lot of the people who used to live here are gone.”

      “But you’re still here,” she blurted out, immediately wishing she could take the words back.

      She’d vowed to avoid personal comments. After all, Scott didn’t know that she’d lived for a glimpse of him all through high school. Whenever he had spoken to her, she’d recorded every word he’d said in her diary. But she wasn’t a teenager with a crush anymore, and she didn’t expect them to be more than casual acquaintances in the short time she’d be in town.

      “Fate is funny sometimes,” he said, looking around the dining area, with a little frown. “Do you want to keep the lunch counter or tear it out for more table room?”

      “I don’t have a strong opinion either way. I’m more interested in the kitchen,” she said. Talking about the café renovations was much safer than dwelling on the past.

      “I have a feeling the committee wants things just the way they’ve always been.”

      “You’re probably right. My aunt hasn’t talked to me about finances, but she seems to think a few nails and a little cleaning will make it as good as new.”

      He laughed softly and took off the battered cowboy hat. His hair was a darker blond than she remembered, and tiny wrinkle lines radiated from the corners of his serious blue eyes. Still, ten years had made him even more handsome, and she imagined that he was a favorite with all the women in town.

      “I have to check out the cellar and the roof, and I’ll take a look at the wiring and plumbing. Hopefully, I won’t find anything really bad, but the pharmacy down the street was riddled with termites a few years back. I had to shore up the whole building after the exterminators were done. I’m hoping that won’t be necessary here, but this building is about a hundred years old.”

      “That doesn’t sound good.” She exhaled slowly and realized she’d been holding her breath.

      “I wish they would’ve called me to do an inspection before they bought the building. Most buyers have one before they agree to a sale, but the folks here were too eager to restart the café.”

      “That would be my aunt,” she said, with a little laugh. “I have a feeling she spearheaded the whole idea.”

      “Where do you want to start?”

      “Oh.” She was a bit surprised that he wanted her to give directions. “The kitchen, I guess.”

      “Thought any more about junking that monstrosity?”

      “The range? I guess it depends on whether the committee wants to buy a new one.”

      The kitchen seemed even smaller with Scott taking up much of the room between the huge range and the work counter.

      “My aunt has plenty of volunteers for the cleanup. I imagine they can haul away the debris and such.”

      He nodded absentmindedly. “It’s an awkward setup, the waitress having to come through the swinging doors to deliver the food. You could take down part of this wall to make a pass-through for orders.”

      “That sounds expensive, tearing out a wall.”

      “The whole place needs new wallboard. That knotty pine wainscoting has to go, not to mention that the wallpaper above it is filthy and peeling off. I’ve no idea what I’ll find when I’ve stripped it.”

      “I don’t think the fridge is working,” she said, remembering one of her big concerns. “It was turned on when the electricity came on last night, but it’s still warm inside.”

      He only grunted. “Let’s take a look at the cellar.”

      Did he mean for her to go down there with him? She’d never liked cellars, and she was afraid this one would be particularly creepy.

      “I’m not so sure about this,” she weakly protested.

      “Follow me, and hang on to the railing. I don’t trust these old steps.”

      He stepped through a door and felt with his hand for a light switch. When the light at the bottom of the steps went on, he still needed his flashlight. The single weak bulb dangling from a cord did little to illuminate the low-ceilinged cellar.

      “Watch your head,” he called back, stooping to avoid hitting his.

      Lori crept close to him, relieved that at least she could stand upright.

      “They never threw anything away,” Scott said, sounding surprised as his light played over the shelves lining every wall. “Look at those tins. I bet that peanut butter pail is almost as old as the building.”

      Her curiosity made her forget how much she hated cellars. Apparently generations of the Conklin family hadn’t believed in throwing anything away. She pointed at a red metal box.

      “What on earth is that?”

      “Probably a dispenser,” he replied. “I imagine it sat on the lunch counter so a customer could put in a penny and get a box of matches.”

      “Look. Glass ketchup bottles. The labels are still on.”

      “At least they washed them,” Scott said, without enthusiasm.

      He was creeping around in the darkest corners at the far end of the cellar, moving his light over a foundation made of stones cemented together. She’d had enough.

      “I’m going upstairs,” she called out.

      One thing he could put on his list was a new stairway with a railing that didn’t shake when she touched it. But then, it was unlikely she’d be going down here very often. She would find other places to store supplies, even if they had to hang from the ceiling.

      Scott was gone so long, she began to wonder whether she should call down or, worse, go looking for him. When he did emerge, his hands were black with grime.

      “Do you mind if I wash up?” he asked.

      “No, and by the way, you have a spiderweb in your hair.”

      She reached up and attempted to pull it away; she was sorry about her impulsive gesture when he looked at her with surprise. The nasty little strands stuck to her fingers, reminding her of how much she didn’t like spiders. And how much she had liked Scott.

      When he brought an extension ladder from his truck and propped it against the building, she elected not to follow him up to the roof. Whatever he found, she would have to take it on trust.

      Aunt СКАЧАТЬ