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And I’ve never seen overalls look so sexy.
By the way her eyes darted to the floor and her mouth puckered as though she were biting the inside of her cheek, I realized I hadn’t just thought those words, but I had spoken them.
“I didn’t mean to say that outloud,” I admitted, feeling embarrassed.
She pulled her lips in, stifling laughter. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
I changed the subject quickly. “So, do you have any idea how to patch holes?”
“Not a clue,” she confessed. “But I’m a quick learner.” She walked the house, through the living room and into the kitchen, studying it with her hand to her chin as though she were surveying the place. “What’s your plan with the house anyhow? Are you going to stay in it?”
I placed my hands in my pocket, shrugging. “I actually don’t know. Part of me wants to sell it. I want to get rid of every bad memory from this house. Start over.”
“And the other part?”
“Well, the other part of me realizes this is the only house I ever knew my mother in.”
“That makes it hard to leave,” she replied as though she could read my thoughts.
“Exactly. So, I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ll just gut the whole thing and make it my own. Rid the place of him, but leave the wallpaper and wood ceiling in my mother’s office just the way it is.”
Lettie’s eyes grew bright. “Ooo, that’s a great idea! Now, listen before you say no, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied, interested to hear what she was thinking.
She clapped her hands once. “We knock out this wall here and open up the kitchen to the living room. You’ll want some of that nice, vinyl plank flooring because it’s virtually indestructible, and I’m assuming you’ll get a dog at some point so it will be perfect.” She paused, barely taking a breath. “Then, depending on your budget, we can either paint the cabinets and get new hardware or just install completely new cabinets. You’ll need new countertops because these, well, these are not it.”
I watched her look around, her eyes moving from one room to the next. “I think start with a neutral wall, an alabaster, and then add color when the notion strikes.” She walked down the hall. “Some tile in the bathroom and carpet in the bedroom. I think bedrooms need carpet, don’t you? But you’re right, the office is absolutely perfect.” She looked around at my mother’s dainty floral wallpaper and the tongue and groove ceiling and smiled.
I felt my lips turn into a wide grin, watching her and realizing that no matter how much time had passed, she was still Lettie.
“How do you know I’ll get a dog?” I asked her.
She turned to face me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Because of Ranger. You’ll get another dog because of how much he meant to you.”
I was surprised she remembered my story about Ranger. Ranger had been the first time I’d realized just what my father had been capable of, and I’d known from that day forward, it had been best for me to stay out of his way.
“You never told me what happened to him.” She was standing in the hall, a few pieces of hair falling delicately in her face. She was still as pure as they came. A heart of gold. Telling her the story of Ranger would only break her. Then again, my attempt at protecting her before had only ruined both of us.
“It’s really horrible. Are you sure you want to know?”
Lettie walked closer to me. “I’ve always wanted to know everything about you.”
I sighed and lowered my head. “My dad found out about him.”
Her eyes filled with tears immediately. “No,” she whispered.
I bit the inside of my cheek, not wanting to go into the details, wanting to change the subject. “It was a long time ago.”
Lettie wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight, and I felt my own hands curling around her slender body. She nuzzled her face into my neck, and I could feel the wetness from her tears as she said quietly, “I hate him.”
I soaked in another second or two of her body entwined with mine before I pulled apart and wiped her tears with my thumbs. “I’ll get another dog. In honor of Ranger. What do I call him? He can’t be Gilbert. You kind of already took that one.”
“You snooze, you lose,” she said, shrugging, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “But you could always name her Anne.”
“Or Beatrice,” I teased.
“Beatrice?” She scrunched her nose. “Why would you name her Beatrice? What did that poor pup do to you?”
