Handy for you, p.3
Handy for You, page 3
Kari stared at him, a pickle held halfway between her plate and her mouth. She blurted, “I’ve been terrified ever since my first night in this house.”
“Terrified?” Maybe that explained the semi-hysterical scene in the kitchen.
“Well, not every second. But it’s so unknown, all of it. What if something goes wrong, what if something breaks and I can’t afford it? I didn’t have much before, didn’t have much to lose. Now…”
And she was all on her own. When Rob had first bought a house, he had been married and experienced in basic maintenance. First time homeownership with neither a partner nor experience would be incredibly challenging. He was starting to think that Kari wasn’t, as she put it, “a big baby,” but incredibly resourceful and brave. “What about your parents?” he asked. “Other sources of support?”
“My dad died about five years ago. Mom went a few years later. They never had much, but what my mother left me boosted my nest egg to enable me to buy this place.”
“Siblings?”
“My brother Bjorn and his wife died in a car accident not long before my mother passed.”
He stared at her. “Wow. That’s…a lot of tragedy to be dealing with in a short time.”
She swallowed, her throat working. “It was hard. Sam and I…” She swallowed and lowered her eyes. “Sorry. I’m not going to cry all over you again.” Her face flushed again and Rob wished he could hug her or give her some other kind of comfort. She looked up again, meeting his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Hell. I’ve already confessed my fear about becoming a homeowner. What’s one more confession? I don’t think Sam’s speaking to me now.”
“Your niece, right? What happened?”
“She found out about a big secret that my mother had been keeping. A lie. And she found out I knew and hadn’t told her.”
There. She’d said it.
She waited for the earth to open up and swallow her.
Nothing happened.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” he asked. He sounded curious, but not judgmental.
Kari shrugged and stared at her half-eaten sandwich. “I’m…not really sure. Mor—Mom—told me when she was really sick. Not long before she died. And then she did die. Sam and I were coping with a lot and it seemed wrong to put more on her emotional plate then. And then…it was like that overdue library book you have under the bed when you’re a kid. You know the fine is only going to get worse the longer it sits there, but…”
“You just keep nudging it even further back with your toe.”
“Exactly. The longer it went on, the worse it was going to be. How could I bring it up? How could I explain why I hadn’t told her before? And I told myself there wasn’t any way she could find out.”
“But she did.”
“Yeah.” Kari pondered whether she should stop talking about this now. Oh, what the hell. “She inherited property from her great-uncle in Norway.”
“Her great-uncle?” He seemed to calculate something in his head. “Wouldn’t that make him your uncle?”
“That’s the thing. My father wasn’t her biological grandfather. My mother was married to a different man and pregnant with my brother when they emigrated. The ship they were on sank. Mor’s husband didn’t make it. She and my dad had met and fell in love on the crossing and ended up living happily ever after.”
Rob’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s quite the story.”
“Yeah. One I should have told Sam without her having to drag it out of me.”
“Hey.” Rob’s voice was soft and she looked at him. “How long are you going to beat yourself up over this?”
She half-shrugged. “Until Sam’s speaking to me again, I guess?”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Dread latched icy claws into Kari’s belly and she pushed her plate away. “I can’t even think about that.”
“Is she the type to hold a grudge?”
“Not usually, but this situation isn’t exactly usual either. And she’s…she’s all the family I have.” And what if I don’t even have that anymore? Kari felt scooped out and hollow at the idea. She was used to being responsible and reliable, but she wasn’t used to being this alone.
“And you’re all the family she has, too, right? I think she’ll come around. You guys seemed really close when I met her.”
“We are. Or we were. You weren’t the first person to mistake us for sisters.”
“Why don’t you give her a call?”
“Because I’m a coward?”
“I doubt that.” His eyes had gone all warm, making her feel funny and fluttery inside.
Kari slumped back in her chair. “Why is it so hard to believe? I’ve just told you that I am terrified of my own home and was cowardly enough not to tell my only niece—only living relative—about something huge that affects her.”
“Being terrified of homeownership isn’t cowardice, it’s rational behavior.” Rob said. “You’re actually brave to take it on by yourself for the first time. And I think a lot of people would have done what you did regarding your mother’s secret. It seems like you meant to tell her, but the timing was bad…and then I can’t imagine how you would have brought it up.”
“Hey Sam—remember my dad? Turns out he wasn’t really your grandfather. Sorry about that, kiddo.”
“I’m sure you put it more diplomatically than that.”
“Only because she asked me point-blank if I had ever heard of Mor’s first husband. By name. It let me off the hook. I didn’t have to do the awkward lead-in to the horrible conversation.”
His fingertip touched the back of her hand and the fluttering feeling in her gut intensified. “If you want my unsolicited advice, reach out to her.”
She swallowed. She’d been so afraid of having her worst fear realized—of having Sam reject her forever—that she hadn’t reached out. But Mor had avoided facing the truth for her entire life. Maybe Kari shouldn’t be emulating her. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Three
Kari did the dishes after Rob left, marveling and feeling somewhat ridiculous at how luxurious something like having a new faucet could be. He was right. The pull-out spray handle was great. Drying her hands, she eyed her cellphone sitting on the countertop.
Don’t really be a coward. Send her a text.
She picked up the phone and held it for a moment and letting it out in a rush. Unlocking the device, she opened her texting app and sent Sam a message before she could coward her way out of it.
Hey. Can we talk?
As olive branches went, it wasn’t exactly the most eloquent, but hopefully it would get the job done.
Resisting the urge to stare at her phone screen and wait for a response, Kari stuffed it in her back pocket and wandered back into the dining room, gazing around at the blank, white walls. It’s your house. You can actually paint it whatever color you want.
So what color did she want?
The room was an interior one without any windows. So…something sunny? A soft yellow, maybe? Kari rotated in a slow circuit. Yes. Yellow would be good in here.
Wow. She’d made a decision.
Bolstered by this, she moved to the living room. There were windows here, but they faced north and east. So, more light but still…she turned and walked to the desk in the corner and fished out an old sketch pad and a package of colored pencils. With swift motions, she sketched an idea. A pale color on the walls—barely a color at all. Or she could leave it white and add some Scandinavian motifs over the doors and windows. Maybe she could cut a stencil…
Her phone shrilled in her back pocket. Kari’s pencil skated across the page, her pulse jumping. Dropping the pad and pencil to her sofa, she dug the phone out of her back pocket.
A text from Sam. Just one word. Sure.
A tightness in her chest Kari hadn’t even known was there loosened. She tapped the phone’s screen. Now?
Ok.
The tightness snapped back. Kari swallowed, tapped Sam’s contact information, raised the phone to her ear. Her hand shook. She felt like she might throw up. The phone barely rang and Sam’s voice was in her ear. “Kari?”
Kari would normally say something smart-assy at the questioning tone of Sam’s voice. Something like, “Got any other aunts?”
But not today.
“Hi, Sam.” Now that she had Sam on the phone, she didn’t know where to begin. She should have planned, had some sort of script or something. “How have you been?”
Sam didn’t say anything for a few moments and Kari could hear her walking. It sounded like she was outside. “I’m…I’m okay.”
A tiny trickle of relief made Kari’s shoulders lower a fraction of an inch away from her ears. “Good. Are we okay?” she blurted.
The sound of Sam’s footfalls stopped. “We’ll get there.”
The trickle of relief turned into a torrent, rushing through her, filling that scooped-out hollow place inside her. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.”
“I know.”
“How’s everything else?”
“Good. Really good, in fact. I’ve started seeing someone.”
“You have?” A pang of something—jealousy or loneliness or some emotion in between—shot through Kari. “Who is he? When did you meet?”
“Over a month ago. He hired me to take him out on the river.”
Kari’s brows drew together. Sam, a fly fishing guide, had always had hard and fast rules about dating her clients. As in, she didn’t do it. Ever. “He did?”
“He did. And I can hear the disapproval in your voice, but don’t worry. He’s not my client anymore. Just my boyfriend.”
“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“Graham. His family calls him Gray. He’s a librarian at the university.” Sam’s voice went soft, unusually so for her. “He’s a really good guy, Kari.”
“Well, I’m glad for you.”
A pause, as if Sam was working up to something. “I’d like you to meet him.”
The lonely, jealous feelings tightening Kari’s stomach and chest blew away, like a cool fresh breeze passing right through her. “I’d love to meet him. Why don’t you find out when you guys are available for dinner and come over?”
“That’d be nice. Speaking of which, how’s that good-looking next door neighbor of yours?”
“Rob? He’s nice. He replaced my kitchen faucet today, as a matter of fact.” The memory of his shirt riding up as he emerged from under her sink sent a rush of heat to her cheeks.
Sam’s voice went sly. “Is that a euphemism for something? 'Cause it sounds kinda dirty.”
Kari laughed, feeling almost dizzy with relief that the conversation had taken this turn into normal territory. “One hundred percent clean, I promise. It was leaking. I asked him for a plumber recommendation. He told me he could fix it himself. He did. And there we are.”
“Well, well. Maybe he can help you if you have any more…personal plumbing issues.”
“Shut the front door, Samantha Halvorsen. He fixed my sink. Don’t become one of those people who starts dating someone and then wants to pair everyone else off. I’m fine.”
Sam laughed at that, a happy sound. “Okay. But…it feels good to be able to tease you again.”
“It feels good to be teased. Let me know when you two can come over for dinner. I’ll do my best to be the intimidating old hag of an auntie.”
“Right,” Sam said. “Because that’s so you.”
“It’s a new look I’m working on. I’m heading for Crone Club.”
Sam made a noise that sounded like pfft. “Right. I’ll see when Gray and I can come over. And Kari?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling.”
Kari swallowed around the growing lump in her throat. “Of course.”
Returning to his house, Rob tried to throw himself into his usual Saturday chore routine. Laundry into the dryer, some light cleaning, paying bills.
Oh, the exciting life of the single, middle-aged guy. A regular bachelor rave-up.
When had his existence settled into something so solitary? Helping Kari with her faucet might be the most social he had been in…was it months? It was. As a young man, he had been up for going out for a few beers, but hadn’t been a part of the club scene. More like the Irish fiddle at a local folk pub night scene. Then marriage to Liz, having Mia, they had done domestic things. Birthday parties and outings with other families where the parents could team up and take turns making sure the kids didn’t succeed in what seemed to be their endless quest to get killed doing something reckless. They had gotten sitters and had the occasional date night, too, growing rarer and then stopping as they grew apart and the marriage exploded so impressively it might have made for a Fourth of July fireworks display if it hadn’t also been so upsetting.
The long process of unwinding the life they had made together, of dividing assets and finding new homes, of setting out careful plans and schedules for Mia had left Rob too tired and demoralized to date much immediately after the divorce. Not to mention, divorce doesn’t exactly leave you in the best frame of mind for jumping back into the dating pool. Eventually, that pain had faded and he had gone out with a few women, but it was clear that their sights were set on marriage—eventually if not a lot sooner—and Rob wasn’t about to put himself through that again. But those women had seen his single-dad-ness and his easygoing manner and assumed he was looking for another spin into married life, a new mom for Mia.
It always ended when they found out they were wrong. He could do commitment. But he wasn’t doing marriage again. And Mia already had a mom.
So he had stopped dating entirely. As a teenager, Mia had teased him about it. “Maybe if you issue a warning before the first date,” she said. “Get them to sign a contract or something.”
“Yeah, because nothing says, ‘I’m an arrogant shithead who thinks all women want to marry me’ like a pre-date warning that I have no intention of remarrying anyone ever.”
“True. It’s not a good look.” Mia had looked thoughtful at that, her big, dark eyes going all somber and serious.
“Stop thinking about my love life, kiddo. That’s an order from your old man.”
“Not so old as all that. You should at least be able to have some fun sometime.”
“It’s not fun if it ends up hurting someone. So, for the time being at least, no dates for me.”
But it was lonely, living this way, especially since Mia had moved out. And it was also kind of a cliché. A bachelor existence seasoned by the occasional poker night with a few people from work. Rob stuffed a new load of dirty laundry into the machine, added detergent, and turned it on. His mind turned back to Kari. Pretty Kari with her wide cheekbones and pale blue eyes that met his so easily because she was almost his height. Kari who seemed so tough and yet had a deep well of uncertainty underneath her calm, self-assured manner.
He wondered if he could be friends with his next-door neighbor. That would be nice. Just getting to know someone. They wouldn’t have to go on dates. If they wanted to, they could hang out and never leave their own back yards. He could help her more with her home-improvement stuff.
Peering into his office, he nearly groaned at the pile of paperwork and mail. He had a habit of tossing everything that came in in a haphazard pile, then clearing out the whole thing in one epic sweep. He got hardly any bills on paper anymore, so it wasn’t like he was letting anything important go.
But it wasn’t exactly an efficient system. He knew he should handle it differently. A different method might come with less guilt, fewer furtive glances into his office, followed by shutting the door and reassuring himself that tomorrow was soon enough.
Today finally was that tomorrow. The desk was a mess. So was the floor, for that matter.
Sighing, he settled into his chair and picked up a catalog. It was two years old.
This was going to be a long afternoon.
Feeling lighter than she had in more than a week, Kari put her phone down and picked up her sketch pad, frowning at the mark that had marred her drawing. Flipping to a new page, she re-sketched the motif she had in mind. Doing something creative, something that would make this house more her home, brought a small smile to her lips.
This is really mine. This house. I did it.
She tilted her head, examining her sketch, then held it up, imagining it over the front door, an extended version of it curving over the arched opening that led to the dining room.
Rein it in. First things first. She should learn how to paint a wall first. Suddenly, she wanted to make sure the dining room was painted before she had her first proper guests over for dinner. She wished she had thought of picking up some paint when they were at the home center. Kari wondered what Sam’s new boyfriend was like. It had been a long time since Sam had dated anyone after her last disaster and this sounded pretty serious.
Maybe she should go back to the home center and get some paint.
Maybe Rob needed something. You know. Because she was going anyway. That was neighborly, right?
Or maybe she was being more than a little ridiculous. Collecting her keys and her purse before she could think about knocking on Rob’s door, she marched herself out to her car and set out for the home center. Dodging contractor’s vans and the other weekend warriors in the parking lot, she found a space and went inside to the paint aisle.
And froze.
How did anyone choose anything when there were so many choices? There were at least six brands of paint, each with their own chromatic rainbow, an infinite range of shades of every color. She had been thinking “soft yellow” and here were at least fifty of them. And which brand of paint? Did it even matter? She assumed it did.
Reaching a hand out, she plucked one card of paint samples from its place on the wall display and swallowed. Maybe she should just take all the likely ones home.
