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She releases a long, exasperated sigh. “I don’t doubt you’re good at your job, but I’d prefer to do the work myself and hire the individuals I can’t skimp on, like an electrician.”
At least she realizes the importance of tradesmen.
I stop at my truck and turn to her. “People who do renovations on their own without the necessary skills and training usually aren’t thrilled with the results. Then they have to hire a professional to fix the botched job. And this puts the homeowner way over budget.” This is especially true when they severely mess up the job. “If you’re positive you want to do it yourself, I can recommend tradespeople who’ll do a great job and will do it right the first time.”
She just nods.
I still think she’s making a mistake. For starters, she doesn’t have the physical strength she needs for the job. I have several women on my crew, and they’re a lot stronger than Jessica. She’s slight, the opposite of those women.
I help Butterscotch onto the back seat and climb into the driver’s seat. I turn over the engine and reverse out of the driveway.
Jessica peers over her shoulder. “Butterscotch isn’t the kind of dog I’d expect a man like you to own.”
“What kind of dog would you expect me to own?”
“Something big, like a German shepherd.”
“Maybe not exactly a German shepherd, but you’re right. I always thought that one day I’d get a large breed.”
“So how come you ended up with this little cutie?” The affection in her tone is directed at Butterscotch.
“I was working on a reno project about two years ago and found him in the crawl space under the deck. Turns out his owner had been an elderly woman who recently died. Butterscotch had somehow gotten out of the house. He was scared and all alone when I found him.”
In a way, he makes me think of Jessica. I know nothing about her, but I can’t help thinking she’s all alone. Most people have photos of loved ones in their living room. Jessica doesn’t have a single picture. Maybe she has them somewhere else, but I still get that gut feeling she’s alone in the world.
“It took me a while to gain his trust,” I tell her. “But by the time I’d discovered the truth about his owner, he’d wiggled his way into my life. He quickly proved he was a great emotional support animal for the vets at the Veterans Center in town. And he and I became a team.”
“He’s your family.” Jessica’s voice is almost a whisper, as if her words are meant mostly for herself.
“He is.”
“He’s very lucky.”
“He is.” I look over at her, and our eyes catch. A light blush spreads across her face.
I return my gaze to the road and think for a second about a safe topic I don’t have to worry about her shooting down. I want to know more about her, but I don’t want to rush her until she’s ready. “Do you have a favorite fruit?”
Christ, that’s the best I can come up with?
“Favorite fruit?” There’s almost a quiet desperation in her voice at the last part. Like she’s hoping I’ll fill in the silence so she doesn’t have to talk. But a twinge of laughter is also buried deep in her words. “Is this like your favorite-ice-cream-flavor question?”
“Damn right. You can learn a lot about a person by their favorite fruit and ice cream flavor.” The corners of my mouth twitch into a smile.
“Okay. Mango. That’s my favorite fruit.”
“It must be. It’s also your favorite ice cream flavor.”
My eyes are on the road, but I can tell she’s now staring at me.
“You remembered that?” The timbre of her tone lilts up at the end in more than a question. She’s genuinely surprised I remembered that small detail she’d told me the first night we met. “Do you have a photographic memory or something?”
“Isn’t that just something that happens when you read?” Because hell if I know.
“I…I don’t actually know.”
“I wish I had it. Photographic memory. It would’ve made school a lot easier if I could’ve just read something once, and then I was good to go.”
I’m rewarded with one of her sweet laughs. And damned if I don’t want to hear it more often.
