“You were just here three weeks ago,” Rusty said to Senior as they entered the house. “And I thought Amber’s house was your home.”
“It is. Sorta. But as nice as her place is, it don’t hold a candle to Maple Falls.”
Rusty set Senior’s small suitcase on the floor as Senior walked into the living room. He hadn’t heard from his sister since she called a week ago, and when he picked up Senior she’d been so busy sending him off and wrangling the kids that he hadn’t had a chance to ask her if she and Austin had made a decision. What he did know was that Amber must have made Senior buy new luggage. The last time Rusty had picked him up, Senior had packed everything into his old army duffel bag that looked and smelled like it had seen much better days. Did that mean he was moving with them? Or was she just tired of him using that old duffel?
“What’s for lunch, Rusty?” Senior said, heading for the kitchen.
“Uh, before you walk any farther—”
“Where did this dadgum hole come from?”
Rusty hurried to his side. Fortunately, Senior hadn’t stepped into the hole and fallen down. Between figuring out what was wrong with Harper’s Merc and having an unexpected influx of customers this week, Rusty hadn’t had a chance to repair the hole yet. Now he wished he’d taken the time to fix it before picking up Senior.
He guided his grandfather away from the hole to the kitchen. At least that floor was in decent shape. Barely. “The wood’s rotted underneath the carpet,” he said.
“I can see that.” Senior sighed and sat down at the fifties-era kitchen table. “Those planks are only fifty years old. They should’ve lasted longer than that.”
“They might have,” Rusty said as he opened the fridge to make them both a sandwich for lunch. “If they hadn’t been underwater three decades ago.”
“Oh, right. That’s why I put the carpet in. Got that for next to nothin’, by the way.”
Rusty nodded as if he hadn’t heard this story at least a dozen times. A huge storm had flooded this part of Maple Falls back in the seventies, and once the house had dried out, Senior had laid the cheap, forest-green carpet over it. “Mustard or mayo?” he asked.
“If it’s ham, mayo. If it’s roast beef, mustard.”
“Mayo it is.” He quickly fixed them each a sandwich, poured a handful of ridged potato chips on the side, and setthe plates on the table, along with a bottle of grape pop for Senior and water for himself.
“You’re lookin’ good,” Senior said as Rusty pulled out the chair across from him. “Slimmed down some more, I see.”
“Some.” He hadn’t set out to lose weight last year, only to cut back on fast food and soda. In doing that he had lost almost twenty-five pounds. That, along with working steadily on not only his customers’ cars but also the GTO, had been the contributing factors to shedding what his sister had always called his baby fat.
Senior took a bite of his sandwich. “Any day now some pretty girl is going to come chasin’ after you.”
Rusty rolled his eyes. “Can’t we talk about something else? The shop?”This house?They had to talk about it sometime soon.
“You already caught me up on the shop,” Senior said, “and I know better than to ask you what’s goin’ on in town. You never know nothin’ important.”
“You mean the latest scuttlebutt?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.” Senior picked up a chip, showing zero shame that he was interested in hen-party talk. “I’ll get the real scoop from Jasper.”
Rusty grinned. Senior could be worse than a tabloid when it came to gossip, and Jasper wasn’t far behind. “Maybe he’ll tell you about his dance with Erma McAllister.”
Senior smirked. “Already heard about that on my last visit. Jasper wouldn’t talk about it, though. He’s got some explainin’ to do. I never knew he was sweet on Ms.Erma.”
“He didn’t seem too happy when she asked him to dance,” Rusty said.
“Oh, he was fakin’ that, sure as Sunday. If he didn’t wanna dance with her, he wouldn’t have. I’m just wonderin’ why he’s being so cagey about it.”
“You’ll have to ask him.” Now Rusty wished he hadn’t said anything about Jasper and Erma, much less direct Senior to quiz Jasper again. But he’d do anything to interrupt his grandfather’s dogged determination to discuss dating and marriage, even if it meant throwing Jasper under the bus. The old man could handle Senior’s nosiness. “I do have something to talk to you about,” he said. Might as well prime the pump sooner than later.
“Let me guess,” Senior said, squinting at the label on the grape pop can as if he were having trouble seeing it. Then he looked at Rusty. “You wanna talk about Amber moving to Colorado.”
Rusty stilled. “You know about that?”
“I’m goin’ blind, not deaf.” A quick wave of sadness crossed his face, only to disappear into a grin. “Walls sure are thin in those newfangled houses they build nowadays.”
“So what do you think?”
