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“Hey, here’s my girl. Did you have a good day at school?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I almost have all of my lines for the play memorized.”
“That’s good. We’ll practice them some more before bedtime tonight. But first, I have to make us a big ol’ pot of spaghetti.”
“Mmmmm,” she licked her lips in anticipation. At the same time, Hank waited patiently for a pat on the head, my customary greeting for him, when I returned home at the end of the day.
The two of them stayed outside to play in what was left of the daylight while Keith followed me into the kitchen. We popped open a couple of beers to sip on while we talked, and I cooked.
“Hey, do you think you could babysit Em for me this Friday night?” I asked during a lull in the conversation.
“No can do. I have a date with Rachel,” he replied.
“Rachel?” I puzzled. “From the post office?”
He smiled wide and nodded. “That’s right. Hey, what do you say I bring her over here for dinner one night?”
I stared at him in surprise. “Is it that serious?”
“No,” he laughed as if the thought of him being in a serious relationship was a joke. “But you did say Em needed more women in her life to look up to.”
“Preferably ones we actually know. I’d hardly call buying postage and mailing packages grounds for really knowing someone. Rachel is practically a stranger,” I argued.
“Suit yourself,” he tilted his head and took another swig of his beer. “What do you need a sitter for anyway?”
I hesitated to tell him because I didn’t want him getting any crazy ideas. But when people saw Melody and me walking around the square together on Friday night, it wouldn’t take long for word to get back to my brother anyway. He’d probably know about it by the time I got home that night. Besides, trying to keep it a secret would make it more suspicious. I needed to act casual about it because that’s what it was casual. No big deal.
“I, uh, offered to show Melody Hart around town,” I mumbled, scratching my chin with one hand while I stirred the spaghetti sauce with the other.
I made a point not to look at his reaction, but I could feel it burning into me anyway. “Did you now?” he asked in a sly tone. “How about that.”
“Don’t say it like that,” I groaned. “She doesn’t know anyone in town. She just lost her mom, and now she’s stuck here through the renovations. I felt bad for her, is all. I thought maybe I could introduce her to some people and show her around. You know how people are around here, especially towards a woman like her who sticks out like a sore thumb.”
“Uh-huh.” He let the silence hang there for a moment, dripping with implications that I didn’t care to comment on any more than I already had. It was better not to get too defensive about it, or he’d only dig in even harder.
“Well, why don’t you let her be Em’s new gal pal while you’re at it?” he suggested.
“Maybe, but I have to get to know her a little better first. I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. What if Em hits it off with her and gets attached, only for her to leave and go back to New York?” I shook my head. “She doesn’t need to lose another person she cares about.”
He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “You can get by with keeping everyone at a distance, so you don’t have to risk getting hurt again if that’s how you choose to live, but I don’t think it’s such a good thing to teach Em to do.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I huffed. “She may be here a lot longer than we anticipated anyway.”
I left the sauce to simmer and pulled out my sketches and notes from the job site to go over with him. I explained how some of the wood was rotting in different spots throughout the house, in addition to a few other problems we had discovered.
“It’s more work than we originally thought, and to make matters worse, we have to special order a lot of the materials to match the antique stuff that’s still intact. The molding in this room alone will take four weeks to come in.”
He whistled as he listened and looked through it all. “How long are we talking here?”
I raked my hands down my face with a sigh. “We told her a month. It’s looking more like three months, give or take a few days.”
“How’d she take the news?” he asked.
That was the problem. I hadn’t told her yet. I didn’t know why exactly, but I hadn’t.
“I wanted to get your opinion first,” I lied. “In case you had any ideas to shorten the time on the job.”
Keith took a closer look while I finished cooking. He had a few supplier suggestions that might cut my time estimate by a few days, but nothing substantial.
