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The corner of her mouth tipped down. “It’s been so nice being able to see you every day, I feel spoiled.”
He forced a smile, waiting for her point.
“I want you to know you can stay here as long as you’d like.”
He huffed, skimming his hand over his beard. “That’s nice, Mom, but I’m really not planning on it being long.”
“Oh, well…” She shrugged. “I just thought I’d remind you.” She squeezed his elbow. “It’s been over a year, and I know you weren’t planning on it being that long, but that’s okay.”
He ground his jaw, trying not to climb out of his skin at his mother’s sweet sentiment, reminding him once again that his best-laid plans had yet to come to fruition.
“Don’t feel like you can’t live your life,” she continued, completely unaware of how Mike’s blood pressure rose. “You’re an adult, I get it. I was only asking where you’re going and if you’ll be late out of habit, you know? It’s hard to stop being a mother hen when one of her chicks has come home to roost.” She laughed at her joke and stretched to kiss his cheek. “I love you so much, honey. Here for whatever you need.”
“Yeah, thanks, Mom,” he said tightly and ducked out of the front door.
He should have appreciated her little pep talk, but it only set him on edge, another hit to his ego. The last thing he needed before his date with Samantha.
Outside, he took a cleansing breath and pushed his anxiety about his failings away before crossing his front yard into Samantha’s. Mike took note of the utility van parked in the driveway and open front door. He rang the doorbell, and when he heard hammering from somewhere, he poked his head in the door. “Sam?”
“Yeah. Come on in!”
He stepped inside and leaned toward the racket coming from upstairs, but a moment later, two guys dragged a rolled-up carpet down the staircase. Mike stepped aside so they could carry it out the front door, Samantha trailing behind them.
“Hi,” she said, hopping down the last step to stand right in front of him. She wore a flouncy white skirt and the same peach-colored top she’d worn to the Memorial Day picnic. Between her love of the color, ice cream, and tea, he picked up an obsession.
Funny, because he’d become obsessed with her.
“We’re getting new carpet upstairs,” she said, pointing to the two men now loading the carpet into the van.
“So, the house is almost ready, then?”
“Upstairs is, yeah. This floor and the basement still mostly need to be sorted and cleaned.”
Mike glanced down the short hall that led to the kitchen; it was stacked with boxes. “Do you need help with any of it?”
She squeezed his bicep. “If I do, I’ll let you know.”
“So, you ready?”
She turned over her shoulder, shouting back toward the stairs, “Dad! I’m leaving!” When her father didn’t answer, she leaned into Mike, saying quietly, “He forgot they were coming even though I reminded him twice, so he’s all frazzled up there.”
And then, as if they’d heard her, the carpet guys opened the storm door. The first man, probably in his forties or fifties with tattoos up and down both arms, stepped inside. “We’re finishing up. Planning to be out of here in the next ten minutes or so.”
Samantha nodded. “All right. Thanks.”
The man headed back upstairs, but the second one, who looked to be early twenties, hesitated as he swept his gaze over her. “If you ever need any other work done around the house, you could give me a call.” He handed her a scrap of paper with a phone number on it. “I’m pretty handy…with almost everything.” Then he winked at her.
Mike scoffed and reached for her hand. “Ready, peaches?”
She angled her head up at him, her eyes shining with humor. “Yeah.”
He kissed her temple and laced their fingers together as they walked to the door, leaving the carpet guy to his daydreams.
Once they reached the sidewalk, Samantha lifted their hands. “So, we’re here now?”
He unlocked his car with the key fob. “Here?”
“Holding hands, kissing in front of other people?”
