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Chapter 1
ONE YEAR LATER
JUNE
“I am swearing off all boys, June. I am done,” Ashley declared.
I should have known this was how our conversation would start when I agreed to meet her for coffee. My one day off per week was usually spent with Ashley, listening to her complaints about the dating game. Today was no different. Our weekly meetings at Java Joint quickly became some of my favorite days. The scent of hot coffee, in addition to the noise of multiple conversations beside us, always seemed to put me at ease.
I sipped on my sugar-free Vanilla Coke, taking in my best friend’s decision to dismiss boys and that she would never open another dating app again. I settled back into the green accent chair and placed my head against the cool, exposed brick wall.
“Well, you know this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. I’m pretty sure the last time was only a few months ago,” I reasoned, giving her a playful wink.
She rolled her eyes as she always did. “Yes, but to be fair, I didn’t think I would fall in love with my neighbor. He seemed so sweet when I saw him carrying Mrs. Goldman’s groceries that I was planning our wedding flowers already.”
I listened to Ashley’s story about her now ex-boyfriend making her uncomfortable every time she’d enter the apartment complex. She made wild gestures, causing her blonde hair to fall in her eyes. Ashley was more courageous than anyone I knew; she tended to be bolder than most were comfortable with. She was upfront and honest with everyone she met and held the confidence that most women dreamed of.
“I mean, who would have thought he would break up with me in a hot tub while I was half-naked? That was the last thing my ego needed this week. Maybe I should’ve worn waterproof mascara so at least I didn’t look like a drowned raccoon on my walk of shame back home.”
She pouted her lips and looked down at the table, playing with a strand of her blonde hair.
I attempted to focus on my dear friend's narrative. I loved Ashley's extraordinary storytelling abilities, and they usually seemed to captivate me—but today, I had my mind elsewhere.My never-ending to-do list was constantly lurking on my shoulder, even as I tried to have a relaxing coffee date.
“June, I can tell you want to talk about your problems. I’m sorry for taking up our whole coffee date talking about me. Let’s restart. How was your week?”
Frankly,I was exhausted, which was rare because I typically had more energy than all my students combined. Most weeks, my stamina didn’t take a hit, and I was ready to conquer all my tasks with no problems. However, I had a plumbing leak in my kitchen, and my oven broke right when the school’s bake sale was coming up. I also had an overwhelming home project weighing on me.
As sweet as it was that I inherited my grandmother’s 1920s cottage after her passing, it became a bit of a dilemma. I loved the house to pieces, the memories it held were priceless, and the fact she left it for me meant the world. However, it was a more significant undertaking than I initially thought.
“It was fine. Just a little crazy at work.” The last thing I wanted was Ashley worrying about me. Her nurturing personality would have her up at two a.m., making Pinterest boards of DIY board and batten or researching how to redo your plumbing.
I took another sip of my favorite drink and she eyed me judgingly. “That stuff is going to give you diabetes.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “It’s sugar-free. It can’t hurt me.”
“You have an addiction, and you’re going to have a heart attack by the time you’re thirty-five.”
I nudged her leg with my foot. “Whatever you say.”
She looked me in the eye with her eyebrows raised and her mouth tilted, knowing I held back. She asked, “Did Kyle never show up?” He was a local plumber who was supposed to meet me to give me a quote. After many voicemails, I finally reached him. Our meeting plan on Wednesday afternoon had failed when he left me sitting there waiting for forty-five minutes.
“No, he didn’t. But don’t worry. I can find someone else! It will come together soon, and I won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
I had contacted several contractors and building companies without an answer from any of them, and the ones that did answer seemed to not show up. Or they give me questionable looks in the driveway that made a girl want to hold pepper spray in her hand twenty-four/seven.
Ashley took a sip of her frozen coffee and began making suggestions.
Gram’s house currently had paneling, chicken-themed wallpaper, and light fixtures from the early seventies. Not to mention the old yellow linoleum floors, which I was pretty sure were supposed to be white. But here was the thing, if I’d had the slightest clue what I was doing, I wouldn’t have minded doing it myself. Which, of course, I’d tried.
After spending six days straight last year trying to pry the wallpaper off the bathroom walls and attempting to rip up the layers of flooring, I admitted defeat. I had grand plans for the house, original hardwood floors, bright white walls, navy and gold accents. It was going to be gorgeous. But a girl can only handle so much. I may be stubborn, but I am not so adamant I am willing to ruin the house just to finish this process.
After embarrassing myself too many times, I decided it was best to hire someone. But hiring meant money—more money than a first-grade teacher has lying around. After saving up for the past year, I was finally ready to get the work done, yet no one wanted to do it.
When Ashley finished her attempt at teaching me the proper spacing between the tiles, she admitted, “Well, you know your best option. Call Grant’s company.”
Oh, Grant. Grant Dawes was the absolute last person I wanted to call to come to my house. He was known everywhere in our small town as the best contractor since he moved here, and his handsome, rugged face seemed to attract all of the local women. Nevertheless, it was his irritable attitude that put me off. A year ago, I had met him once at Cooper’s. I had heard of his reputation from Ashley before, but I had never seen him in person. He moved here from the next town over about a year ago, and the Lakeshore community made it clear he had an odd history, yet no one was sure what exactly made him move here. It all made me curious about Grant and his character, so when I randomly bumped into him that day, I couldn’t help but check him out.
Did I scramble up a pile of paint cans to get a stain that was the entirely wrong product? Maybe.
