Page 26 of The Life She Had

He heads for the house with the box of tools. I realize then he must have said something like “I’ll carry this up for you.”

“No, that’s okay,” I say, jogging after him. “I’ll take it in.”

He stops but doesn’t turn my way. He sets down the box and walks toward the house, stepping carefully through the empty garden. Then he stares up at the broken window.

“I had a break-in,” I say. “Last night.”

He turns, brows scrunching, as if he heard wrong.

“Someone broke in. It’s okay. They didn’t get anything. Daisy scared them off.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Mmm, no, better correct that, or it’ll seem as if I’m brushing off her injuries. “She was pushed down a few stairs and stepped on glass.”

He swallows. “Shit.”

A long pause, and then he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Well, I hope she’s okay. You’re going to need this window fixed, though. I’m sure Daisy can handle that.”

I don’t reply.

“I wouldn’t call this a dangerous neighborhood but...” He shrugs. “Sometimes people get desperate. Might be a good idea to keep the kid around a while.”

I make a noncommittal noise. Seems like everyone’s trying to saddle me with a roommate today. They’re all just so terribly helpful.

“It’d be a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he says.

Do I sound awful if I suspect this is a term he’s picked up and uses because it sounds smart? Our brief exchanges haven’t suggested he’s a well-educated guy, and the words trip awkwardly off his tongue, as if this is a speech he’s rehearsed.

He continues, “This house could use a carpenter’s touch, and Daisy looks like she could use a place to stay for a bit.”

“Did she put you up to this?”

A flash of annoyance, quickly doused. “Course not. I just thought...” He waves at the window. “At least she can fix that. Maeve left the place in bad shape, and I know you were scraping to put together funeral arrangements, so I’m guessing there wasn’t much life insurance.”

He lifts his hands. “I’m not prying. But I’ve had enough cups of coffee in this kitchen to know exactly what kind of condition the house is in. I helped where I could, but Maeve was a proud old bird. Maybe offer Daisy a few days’ work and see what she says. I bet—” He stops and grins as his gaze moves over my shoulder. “Speak of the devil.”

I turn to see Daisy coming across the lawn, a half-eaten orange in hand.

“Don’t tell me you swiped that from the Hanson place,” Tom calls. “You know what’ll happen if Old Mr. Hanson catches you?”

“He’ll rise from his grave and demand payment?” she says.

Tom laughs.

Daisy tosses him an orange from her other hand. He catches it as she says, “Celeste’s neighbor told me there were a few trees still producing over there and the owner’s been dead for five years, so I figured it was safe enough.”

“It is. Meager pickings this time of year, but take whatever you want.” He returns to the box and hefts it. “I brought the tools. Point me in the direction of the leak.”

“I can fix it.”

“Not disputing that. But I’m here, and Glory’s managing the shop, so put me to work.” He waves Daisy on ahead. Once she’s to the door, he turns to me and whispers, “I’ll mention the other thing and get her take on it.”

I open my mouth to make a token protest, but he’s already striding after Daisy.

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