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She was silent a long moment, then offered a new proposal. “What if the kids here were to tutor elementary school students? They surely know more than struggling first graders, and it would give their egos a tremendous lift. Is there an elementary school nearby?”
“Yes, but I’d have to think about your idea before I approached the principal.”
“You’re being very diplomatic, but I’m simply being presumptuous again, aren’t I?”
Luke pried open a quart of white enamel for the woodwork. “The kids who find their way here have mastered how to survive by their wits. Amazingly, some still have good hearts. There are others, however, who’d steal a little kid’s lunch money and justify it by insisting they needed it more than he does.”
His easy smile was reassuring, but she still wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid none of my ideas are any good.”
“No, they’re all good,” he argued persuasively. “We just have a difficult situation here.” He handed her the white paint and a two-inch-wide brush. “Painting my office was a terrific idea. Will you start on the woodwork?”
“Why? Because I’m the girl?” Catherine challenged.
“Hey, I didn’t ask you to bring lunch. If you’d rather use the roller on the walls, I’ll do the trim. Or we could flip for it.”
“How about rock, scissors, paper?”
“You drive a tough bargain, lady. Three out of five?”
“You’re on.” She placed the white paint and brush back on the covered desk. Then she shook her hands and took a deep breath as though she were a champion preparing for a big match.
“On three?”
“Fine.” Luke laughed as he won the first round with a rock to crush her scissors, but she won the next three pairings, and he had to concede defeat.
“Okay, you win. I’ll do the trim.”
“Actually, I’d prefer to do the trim myself,” she assured him. “Besides it would be a waste of your longer reach to confine you to the woodwork.”
He whistled softly. “You just wanted to give me a hard time, didn’t you? You’re far too clever to be painting offices on the weekends.”
She carried the quart of white paint over to the window and dipped in the brush. “I consider it one of the perks of volunteering here.”
“At least you’ve found some advantages. Frankly, I stick around for Mabel’s cooking.”
They continued their playful banter until the telephone rang, and once Luke had located it under the tarp, he listened only briefly before beginning to swear. He tugged off his glove and covered the mouthpiece.
“Rafael Reynosa has gotten himself arrested for shoplifting.” He completed a series of terse commands to Rafael and then slammed down the receiver.
“I never post bail for anyone, and all the kids know it. When Rafael was born, his birth mother tossed him in a Dumpster, and he was found by a homeless man scrounging for food. The story got the usual press coverage, and Rafael was adopted, but by a family who’d lost a child to cancer. Apparently Rafael proved to be a poor substitute for the angelic son they’d lost. He began running away at ten. His adoptive family gave up on him, and he ended up in foster care.”
Luke had made a good start, but as he glanced around the small office, he shook his head sadly. “I’d hoped we’d get through this project without being interrupted. Let’s just put the lids on the paint, and I’ll clean up after I’ve been down to the LA County Jail to see Rafael.”
Catherine had already given the window and door the first coat, and the acrylic paint was dry. “I’d like to finish up the woodwork if you don’t mind. I promise not to snoop through your files.”
“I appreciate that, but I keep them locked. Don’t try to finish the whole room on your own. I’ll do the last of the walls later. I really am sorry. I’d hoped you’d at least get a nice lunch for your efforts.”
She hid her disappointment behind a friendly smile. “You needn’t apologize. This really has been fun.”
“Yeah, while it lasted.” He tossed his gloves on the tarp and hurried out the door.
Catherine remained by the window and watched him cross the parking lot to a black Subaru Outback. She hadn’t known which car was his, but the sporty wagon suited him.
Luke had already unlocked the door when Dave rounded the end of the overgrown shrubbery separating the parking lot from the discount carpet warehouse next door. He was carrying a pair of hedge clippers, and broke into an easy lope when Luke waved him over. Luke jerked a thumb toward the office. Dave nodded, used his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow and broke into a wide grin.
Clearly he was delighted to take over the painting, but the exchange left Catherine feeling as though she’d just been handed off to a fraternity brother. That was even more distressing than Luke’s hasty departure, but from what little she’d seen, the unexpected was almost routine there at Lost Angel.
That made it ridiculous to take a sudden change in plans so personally, but the hurt remained surprisingly sharp. She’d had fun with Luke that morning, and she was sorry to see it come to such an abrupt end.
