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He lifted an eyebrow and treaded around the shop. He ran his hands over the walls. Was there something in the drywall that he could feel? Heat? Cold? Moisture? He tugged on doorframes, opened and shut doors, leaned his ear towards the wall, and knocked. Later, she’d try the same and check if the echo differed depending on where she hit. He stretched on his toes and pushed his fingertips into the ceiling beams as his eyes narrowed.
“Charlie, who did your remodeling job?”
Several different names flashed through her mind, and she thought for a moment. “I had two different companies. One did the floors and knocked out the walls, and one built the bar and bathroom.”
He dropped his arms from the beam. “Who’s the one that did the floor, frames, and walls?”
“Freddie’s Remodeling.”
His mouth twisted.
She didn’t know him well enough to interpret his thoughts, but he didn’t look pleased.
The metal clank of the toolbox clasp banged against the side, and he dug out a few tools. He shoved the crowbar into the floor and hit it on the top with a mallet. A chunk of flooring popped out with a crunch. After months of remodeling, spending everything she had, and borrowing against everything she didn’t, he ripped the plank out like an infected sliver.
“The water probably only seeped through about six feet, but we’re going to double that and remove a twelve by twelve section.” He pulled the tape measure out and marked the area with a Sharpie. “If you see it’s still wet after doing a six by six space, we might have to rip more. Mold’s tough to get rid of once it grows.”
She swallowed and contemplated running upstairs to light some incense.
“All right, show me your crawl space. I want to do a quick sweep.” As they passed Mack, who was sweeping in the corner, he tipped his chin up and smiled.
Even though Charlie was sweaty and disgusting, the sun felt good against her back. She pointed out the crawl space and cringed at the sheer amount of dangling spiderwebs waiting to attack him as he climbed down.
“You okay down there?” Her hollowed voice boomed.
“Yep, good.” A few minutes later, he ascended and dusted off his jeans. “Good news. I didn’t see anything dripping.” He tapped the back of his hand on the gutters. “I think the flooding came from the gutters. They need to be rerouted.”
“Is rerouting hard?”Expensive?
“No, it’s pretty easy.” He slid his baseball cap backward. “I’ll go back to the office and grab some flooring. And I’ll send one of my guys here tomorrow to do the gutters.”
The riptide that rushed through Charlie was overwhelming in the best way possible. She didn’t mean to, but she wrapped her arms around his waist. He gave her a firm shoulder squeeze, and she stepped back. The back of her eyes burned, but she refused to cry in front of him. “I can’t even thank you enough… I don’t know what to say.”
He swooshed his arm. “Happy to help.”
She crumbled under his sincere tone and opened the door to the shop. “Can I send you off with some coffee? Snacks? A golden retriever?”
He paused for a moment. “You know, I’d love an Americano and one of those blackberry scones.”
Mack attached the pan to the broom and glanced up. “Get it all figured out?”
“Yep, I think everything’s gonna be okay,” Charlie said as she stuffed a bag with scones and cookies and handed it to him with the drink.
He thanked her, whispered something to Mack—who beamed at her dad—and left.
“All right, let’s do this.” Mack clapped and retied the apron around her.
Charlie wrapped her arms around Mack, who clasped her tight like a winter scarf shielding her from a blizzard. Salty skin, spring soap, and berry scent permeated Charlie, and she buried her nose into the crook of Mack’s neck.
Her chest heaved as she breathed in. “Why are you helping me?” Charlie whispered.
“Why not?” Mack whispered back.
Charlie never wanted to let go. For the first time in her life besides Ben, she had backup. Kind, warm, altruistic backup.
They spent the next hour popping in the crowbar and ripping out planks. Adrenaline torpedoed Charlie to save her drowning baby. And Mack stayed solidly at her side, working equally as hard on the rescue mission.
The air-conditioning couldn’t keep up with the labor-intensive work, and sweat gathered and dripped down her back and chest. She smiled at Mack’s crumpled, dirty shirt. Mack never mentioned it, but Charlie bet good money Mack was dreaming of a bleach bath.
