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She lifted the tea, blew on it, sipped. “Oh, this is just the thing. I owe you.”
“When that stomach bug hit me last fall, who took care of me?”
“I did, because girlfriends. I’ll conk early, sleep this off.”
“Text me if you need anything. I won’t text you in case you’re sleeping, but I’ll look in, make sure you’re conked when I get home.”
“Got all I need, and I’m going to chug some NyQuil. That’ll conk me for sure.” She spooned up some soup. “It’s not Mama’s, but chicken and stars always work. Have a good one.”
When she got home after her shift, she found Nina fast asleep. And when she woke to an empty house, assumed Nina had turned the corner.
Around midmorning, Luke sent a text that he’d likely be an extra day on-site in Baltimore. Morgan read it between generating an invoice for a finalized bathroom remodel and taking a phone call to set up an estimate on a deck addition.
She sat in her combination office/reception area with her view of the parking lot. She didn’t mind the view; it provided a heads-up on who came and went.
A snake plant thrived in the corner—one placed, according to her information, by the big boss’s wife some twenty years earlier. It now stood nearly six feet tall in a red pot she couldn’t have gotten her arms around.
Bill Greenwald—second-generation boss—told her his motherinsisted it served as the business’s good luck charm. As long as it thrived, so would the business.
Bill’s wife, Ava, still donned a hard hat and tool belt to work with the crew. On-site, everyone knew Ava was the job boss and not to be messed with.
Bill’s brother, Bob, a local lawyer, handled that end of things. Bill and Ava’s two children, Jack and Ella, worked alongside their parents.
She often thought, when the day came to open her own place, she’d miss working for the Greenwalds, and their tight, squabbling family.
As she read the text, Bill walked through in his usual uniform of carpenter jeans, T-shirt with a flannel shirt open over it.
He had salt-and-pepper hair under a Greenwald’s Builders cap, kind eyes behind square-framed metal glasses, and arms roped with muscles.
“I see that face. Got a message from your new fella?”
“He’s new, but I wouldn’t call him my fella.”
He shot a finger at her. “When you know, you know. My dad hired Ava, and I worked with her for a month or more. Thought nothing more than she knew how to swing a hammer and takes no shit. Then one day, she lets out this laugh. You know that laugh.”
Big and bawdy. “Yes, I do.”
“The laugh sunk me. ‘That’s the one, Bill,’ I told myself. ‘No two ways. You might as well get used to it.’ Twenty-seven years later come September, I’m pretty well used to it. So you’ll know when you know.
“Anyways, I’m heading out to meet the inspector on the Moreni job. Gonna swing by the Langston demo after, see if I can hear that laugh. Things go as they go, I should be back by three. Or I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll hold the fort.”
“You always do.”
And she liked it, Morgan thought as Bill left and she cleared up a little more work.
She filled her water bottle from the bubbler, then, sitting back at her desk, sent Luke a reply.
Hope that means it’s going well. If you’re back, and free on Sunday, would you like to join us for dinner at Nina’s parents’?
It took a few minutes, but he responded.
Sounds great! It’s going really well, and I’ll be back.
Glad to hear it. Sunday dinner’s on the early side. We usually go over about four, eat around five. Warning: Lots of people, lots of noise, lots of food.
I’m all in. Can I pick you up at four?
