Every Time We Say Goodbye. Liz Flaherty

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СКАЧАТЬ yes, I suppose so.” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you? I thought you were an entrepreneur and a weekend dad who was embarrassed to tell people he had a son.”

      He couldn’t look away from her. After all these years and everything that had happened, he still couldn’t look away from the lights in her eyes.

      Something inside him shifted. They had laughed together through learning to ice-skate, sliding down snow-covered Sycamore Hill on the detached hood of a junkyard Chevy and being stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel at Indiana Beach. Was it realistic to think they could laugh together again without reopening old wounds? Was it even possible?

      Not until he explained about Tracy. About Charlie.

      “I’m not an entrepreneur. I just get bored easily. And I never get embarrassed about Charlie—only by my own parental inadequacies.”

      She stepped back, her expression not changing. “Come on in. It’s your house, after all.”

      He went in, inhaling the fresh smells of vinegar and linen and something flowery. “It looks great.”

      “This floor does,” she said. She looked cautiously pleased. “The basement is still an adventure, and I haven’t even been in the attic.”

      “You have cobwebs in your hair.”

      “I think it’s crummy of you to notice.” She moved ahead of him through the clean rooms. “Have you been in here at all?”

      He shook his head even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “I haven’t been in this house since the housekeeper and her husband lived in it. I don’t know how long it’s been empty.”

      “Four years. Your grandmother offered to let the housekeeper live in it even when she retired, but the woman wanted to live in Florida, so she turned her down.”

      Jack snorted. “Knowing Grandmother, she probably wanted to charge her an arm and a leg to stay in it, or better yet have her keep working without pay to cover rent.”

      They continued through the downstairs. “I can set up an office in here,” he said, standing in the doorway of the dining room. “There’s plenty of room in the kitchen for a table and chairs.”

      “That’s what I did at my house. I had the counter built in to divide the kitchen from the dining area. It’s not very big, but it’s convenient.” Arlie counted outlets. “Of course, my whole downstairs would fit into this dining room and kitchen. But you have plenty of outlets in here, and your wiring is up to date, so you won’t darken the whole neighborhood the minute you start plugging things in.”

      “That’s a plus.” He smiled at her, hoping the sheer comfortableness of being together would come back to them the way it had the night before his grandmother’s funeral. Before Charlie had arrived. “What’s upstairs? I don’t really remember.”

      “Take a look.”

      The stairway was enclosed, but the stairs were wide and easy to climb. “It won’t be too bad bringing furniture up.” The handrail felt smooth under his hand, and he smiled. He didn’t know where his appreciation for good woodwork had come from, but he was glad he had it.

      There were four bedrooms and two baths upstairs. At the end of the center hall, lit by a wide window that overlooked the garden in the back, was a little cove of a library complete with shelves and a built-in desk under the window.

      “I’d forgotten this.” He stepped down three stairs into the area. “It’s over the glassed-in porch off the kitchen, isn’t it?”

      She nodded. “You may have forgotten it, but I covet it. It’s beautiful.”

      “Do you have a library in the Toe?” He knew she loved to read—it was one of the things they’d shared.

      “Sort of. There was a closet under the stairs I really didn’t need. For my birthday the year I bought the house, Gianna hired a carpenter to take the door off it, line it with bookshelves and put lighting in it. There’s even room for a chair, but when you sit in it your legs stick out in the hallway.”

      “Sounds great.” He moved down the hall, peeking into the bedrooms. “I’ll use this one—Charlie can be across the hall when he’s here. How’s the plumbing—do you know?”

      “I checked it when I got here. It all worked, but I imagine you’ll want to put showers in the bathrooms. All that’s in there are eighties-era tubs. I do have the master bedroom and bath clean, though. I thought they’d be the ones you’d use. You can move in whenever you’re ready.”

      “I don’t want to get in your way.” He frowned at the walls. They were clean and smooth. “Is the entire house painted this color? It’s so bland, it makes off-white look exciting.”

      “Yes.”

      “Does Rent-A-Wife do painting?”

      “No, but Sam’s wife, Penny, does.”

      He’d heard that. “I’ll see if I can get her in here first. Does Sam help her?”

      Arlie laughed, and he felt the ice begin to melt. “Not with painting. She won’t let him. But he helps her set up scaffolding and hauls materials. She does great work and plays good music while she’s doing it.”

      “That would be better than interrupting the crew that’s going to work in the Hall. Tucker wouldn’t want me to do that, either.” He stepped into the walk-in closet and spoke over his shoulder. “I forgot. There was a reason I stopped by.”

      “I thought you were checking up on the work.”

      “No.” He came back out, pleased with the storage space the house had to offer. “Why are you working this late?”

      “Oh.” She looked embarrassed. “The van won’t start and my cell phone’s dead. I went ahead and worked awhile, thinking Holly might stop by when they got back from the casino—she and Gianna took a group today—but I forgot they were staying for dinner. I was getting ready to turn off the lights and walk home when you got here.”

      “I’ll take you home. Or, better yet, to dinner.”

      She shook her head. “There’s chili in the Crock-Pot at home. If you’ll give me a ride, I’ll share it.”

      “That sounds great.” He agreed before she could change her mind, as the look in her eyes told him she might have wanted to.

      When they walked past the company van, Arlie patted its crumpled front fender. “We’re going to have to give her a decent burial.”

      Jack gave the vehicle a doubtful look. “It looks as though she’s had a long and hard life.” He opened the passenger door of his car for Arlie.

      “Don’t hurt her feelings. She’s been with the company from the first, when she already had a lifetime’s worth of miles on her. She did look better then. Now I’m the only one who will still drive her.” Arlie flipped down the sun visor and frowned at herself in the lit mirror, pulling at the cobwebs in her hair. “Of course, I looked better then, too.”

      “There’s СКАЧАТЬ