And there was that feeling again. Drat the man. Even when he wasn’t there he vexed her.
She removed a notepad from the desk and made a to-do list. The house was quiet this morning. No buzzing of saws or pounding of nails, no high-pitched whine of an electric screwdriver. No slam as Jake had a hissy fit over some snag.
She almost missed that part.
A loud knock sounded at the door, and Meridith set down the pen and went to answer it. Please, God, a customer. Though it was early in the day for tourists seeking shelter. Maybe she could raise the rates to offset her financial woes. She made a mental note to check her competitors’ rates.
She opened the door. “Jake. I—didn’t you get my message?”
Why had she left a voice mail? Now she’d have to explain in person.
“Can we talk?”
“Uh—sure. Come in.” She didn’t owe him more money, did she? She’d cut him a check on Friday, and he hadn’t worked on Saturday— unless he was counting the dance lessons, but surely not.
He followed her into the living room, and she sat on the armchair, leaving him with a choice between the sofa and love seat. He chose the love seat, perched on the edge, elbows propped on his knees.
“I left you a message yesterday.” She couldn’t seem to get any further.
“Got it. You had a financial setback.”
She didn’t know why that humiliated her, but it did, even if it wasn’t her fault. It was one of those issues related to her childhood, she supposed, taking her right back to the calls from bill collectors. But unlike her mom, she was meticulous with her finances.
“I had an unexpected bill,” she said.
“I guess you inherit the bad with the good.”
Was that sarcasm flickering in those brown eyes? One moment Meridith thought she detected it, the next second she was sure she’d imagined it.
Well, her finances were none of his concern. And if he’d received her message, why was he here?
She clasped her hands around her knee. “What brings you here today?”
He took his time responding. Stretched his legs out. Leaned into the sofa like he was settling in for the winter.
She looked away, over to the fireplace. The damaged, no-good fireplace. Yet another item on a long list of things wrong with the house.
When she had a buyer, inspection was going to be a nightmare.
“Had an idea, a solution to your problem.”
Meridith cocked her head. “Do tell.”
“You have a lot of things needing fixed. The place isn’t up to code.”
“No secret there.”
“The boiler could go out at any time, and you won’t find parts for it.”
“You said something about a solution.”
He crossed his ankle over his knee. His foot looked huge in the boots. Size twelve? Thirteen? Virtual barges. No wonder she couldn’t help but step on them when they danced.
“Thought maybe we could trade.”
Meridith knew what she needed from Jake, but what did he need from her? The only skill she had was in the health safety industry, and he had no use for that, did he?
Her fingers clutched the collar of her shirt together. “What— what kind of trade?”
One of his eyebrows lifted. And that smirk.
“Nantucket isn’t cheap, as you’ve no doubt discovered. My rent is eating a hole in my pocket, and I was thinking if that were eliminated, it would help me out.”
“Your rent . . .” She wasn’t connecting the dots.
“You run a B-and-B.”
A trade. Oh.
“See, I was thinking if I moved in here—”
“Moved in here?”
“Temporarily.” He spoke slowly, as if to a child. “In exchange for my labor.”
“I have children here. I can’t have a man moving in—”
“I’m not your live-in boyfriend. Just think of me as a long-term tourist.” He grinned. “Who works on your house by day.”
She shook her head. She didn’t like this. It was difficult enough having him here during daytime hours. How would it be to have him around twenty-four/seven? She shuddered. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s the perfect solution.”
For whom?
“You get the work done with very little out-of-pocket expense.”
“But even if you’re working in trade, there’ll still be costs.” Some that had nothing to do with a bill from Marine Home Center. “There’s not enough cash flow right now for extras.”
“You paid for the new furnace when I ordered it. It arrived on Saturday, and it’ll cost next to nothing for me to get it running. Just time. And one tiny little bedroom.”
Jake sleeping down the hall . . . it wasn’t something she wanted to contemplate. And what would Stephen say?
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem proper. I’m engaged.”
“You think Lover—your fiance’s going to object?”
Stephen wasn’t controlling or possessive. Not at all.
“It’s a B-and-B. You have male guests here all the time, how’s this any different?”
Because the other male guests didn’t look at her like Jake did. Because other male guests didn’t make her feel bothered and agitated.
“Wait, what about your employer? Comfort Heating and Plumbing wouldn’t make a dime if you traded out your services.”
“Owner’s a friend. Already cleared it with him. At least let me stay long enough to install the furnace, run the ductwork. You’ve already paid for it—what are you going to do, install it yourself?”
She shot him a look. She was as good with tools as she was on the dance floor. Still, he didn’t have to be sarcastic.
“How long would it take?”
“A week. Two at most. And fixing the wiring problems will be cheap. You don’t want the fire hazard, I’m sure.”
How could she say no? The wiring was a safety concern, and she couldn’t waste the money she’d paid for the furnace. It would save her a lot of trouble come sale time.
“How long will the new fuse service take?”
“Several days to a week.”
“Isn’t that a lot of hassle, to move your things for less than a month?”
“Don’t have much. Apartment is furnished.”
“Won’t your landlord rent out your place if you leave?”
“He’ll save it. He’s a friend.”
Everyone was a friend. She wanted to say If he’s such a friend, why is he charging you so much, but she kept it to herself.
“What are we supposed to do without heat while you’re working on it?”
“Got any space heaters? Forecast is warmer than usual, but it’ll get chilly at night.”
She’d seen several space heaters in the basement. She could put one in each bedroom.
“I have guests coming in a little over a week.”
“I’ll do my best to get it done by then.”
There were still a couple more issues to settle. “When we do have guests—”
“I’ll stay out of the way.”
“And our personal lives here—”
“Are none of my business.”
He was saying all the right things. He looked sincere, his brown eyes wide, his shoulders shrugging innocently.
Innocent, my fanny.
Still, she was getting a new heating system for next to nothing, and it was going to save her a ton in the end. She’d just have to put up with a week or two of . . . Jake.
Twenty-two
Meridith worked on Noelle’s scrapbook in her room all morning. She’d already bought the albums, special tape, and other supplies. In the background she could hear Jake working. The buzz of a saw as he cut out the old boiler, the sound of his tromping up the basement steps, taking parts to his truck. The thing was mammoth. It would probably take all day just to remove the beast.
Her stomach growled at noon, but she waited until almost one, when she heard the rumble of Jake�
�s truck backing from the drive, to leave her sanctuary.
It was silly. She couldn’t hide in her room all week. She fixed a sandwich, started a load of bedding, and was upstairs again before Jake returned.
The house was getting chilly without heat, and she needed to get moving. She made a room ready for Jake—the seashell room, located in the guest wing and farthest from her bedroom door. The pale blue and coral décor didn’t suit him at all, and she hoped that would make him eager for his own apartment.
Meridith knew she’d have to tell the children Jake was staying a few weeks. She dreaded informing Noelle of any changes, and mentally prepared herself for the possibility of a conflict ending with Noelle crying on her bed.
She hated that the girl upset so easily, hated that Noelle’s agitation always led to her own. Since living here, Meridith had become so adept at counting backward by twenty-threes that she had to vary the number to challenge herself.
When the school bus squealed to a halt at the curb, she tucked the scrapping supplies in her closet and met the kids at the door.
When they entered, Meridith asked about their day, then helped Ben remove his jacket. Before they could disappear upstairs, she asked them to sit down in the living room.
“What’s wrong?” Max asked.
“Nothing.”
Noelle plopped on the sofa. Ben curled up on one side of her, Max on the other. They eyed her warily.
Meridith sat on the armchair. “You know how Jake’s been working on the house.”
The kids stared back blankly, still as statues.
Strange. “Well,” Meridith continued. “There’re going to be some changes that I wanted to make you aware of.”
They weren’t so much as blinking. She could swear Noelle was holding her breath. Meridith had a feeling this wouldn’t end well.
“Jake and I worked out a trade.” Be firm. Take no flack. You’re the adult here. “While he’s fixing the furnace, he’ll be living here as a guest. It won’t be but a few weeks or a month at most, and I put him in the guest wing, of course.”
Only when she finished did she look at them again. Their expressions had changed, but Noelle’s was the one she watched. The frown lines disappeared. Her lips lifted at the corners.
Then just as quickly her smile slipped, and she shrugged.
“Whatever.”
“Cool,” Max added calmly, though his heel beat a nervous tattoo on the floor. “We’re cool with that. Right, Ben?”
They exchanged a look.
“Oh. Sure. Yeah, whatever.”
“I’m going to do my homework,” Noelle said.
“Me too.” Max sprang from the couch after her.
“I have math.” Ben grabbed his book bag with his good arm.
“I can help you,” Meridith said.
“I’ll help him,” Noelle called from the top of the stairs.
Ben disappeared up the stairs behind his brother and sister. Meridith watched them go and wondered if she’d ever figure out those three.
“Ben, can you set the table, please?” Meridith finished chopping the tomatoes and tossed them into the salad. Spaghetti boiled on the stove, and garlic toast browned in the oven.
“Mmm, smells good.” Max entered the house from the back door.
“Wash your hands,” Meridith reminded him.
She drained the spaghetti, poured the meat sauce over the top, then removed the bread from the oven and turned it off. The children helped her carry the food to the table.
Once seated, she tapped Noelle’s arm. “Your iPod?”
Noelle rolled her eyes but took out the earbuds and turned it off.
“My turn,” Ben said.
They bowed their heads and Ben said the prayer, then they dug in like they were starving.
Meridith was dishing out her salad when she heard Jake’s boots on the basement steps. He was finished for the day.
A moment later he appeared at the doorway and stopped short. “Sorry. Just passing through.”
His hair was flecked with sawdust, and black stuff covered his bare arms and stained his jeans.
“You can eat with us,” Noelle said. “Can’t he?” She turned innocent eyes on Meridith.
Meridith flashed her a look, pressed her lips together. It wasn’t really a question, and it was the last thing Meridith wanted.
“I’m a mess,” Jake said.
“Might as well eat with us if he wants,” Max said. When Meridith shot him a look, he added, “I mean, we got plenty.”
“Have plenty,” Noelle said.
“He has to eat anyways,” Ben said.
Jake looked at her, silently asking permission.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. “Fine.” She stabbed her lettuce with her fork.
“Just need to wash up real quick.”
Meridith was no fool. They’d just set a precedent. Now the man was going to be at their dinner table for weeks. She felt a headache coming on. A very long one.
Later that night, Meridith lay in bed reading one of the books on grief. As she flipped a page, she heard the muted thumps of Jake’s steps on the main stairs. He’d gone to collect his things after dinner and had settled into his room.
The kids were safely tucked away for the night. She’d had just enough space heaters and had set them up after dinner to make their rooms cozy before bedtime. She hoped they were having better luck than she. It was hotter than a frying pan in her room. She adjusted the heater’s thermostat again and crawled back into bed, kicking the quilt down.
After the stressful day, she was grateful for a moment’s quiet to read and relax.
As if the very thought jinxed her, the cell rang. Meridith reached for her phone, charging on her nightstand, disconnected the cord, and answered without checking the screen.
“Hi, honey,” she said.
“Just because we’re living together doesn’t mean you can call me honey.” Jake’s deep voice rumbled across the line. Meridith sprang upright and pulled the sheet over her bare legs.
He can’t see you, goofball.
“Jake. Why are you calling—you’re right down the hall—and how did you get my number?”
“There’s a locked door between us—quite sturdy, I might add— and you called from your cell Sunday. I saved your number just in case.”
She sighed hard. “Just in case what—you needed fresh towels?”
He laughed, deep and throaty. She resisted the pull of it.
“My towels are fresh and abundant, but thanks for asking.”
Her heart was all up in her throat, and she didn’t know why. She knew this was going to happen. Knew having him here would be a constant pain in the—
“Meridith?”
“What do you need, Jake?”
“Forgot to tell you a friend’s coming at seven to help bring the furnace in. Just didn’t want you to freak out when you came down the stairs and saw a stranger.”
“Oh. Okay.” She was glad he’d told her, but she wanted off the phone. Wanted to pretend Jake wasn’t on the other end of the line. Wanted to pretend Jake wasn’t just down the hall. “Anything else?”
“Nope, that’s it.”
“All right. Well, good night.”
“Night, Meri.”
She didn’t bother to correct him before turning off the phone and plugging it back in.
Still hot, she kicked the sheet back down and settled into her spot just in time for her phone to ring again. What now? Something else he’d forgotten to mention?
She sighed hard, grabbed the phone, and flipped it open. “What?”
“Meridith? You okay?”
Stephen. Jake was making her lose it. “Sorry. I thought it was— the guy doing the repairs on the house.”
“Why would he call so late?”
Tell him about the trade. Tell him Jake’s staying here. “He just called a minute ago to let me know about a delivery in the morning.”
“I thought you cancelled the repairs.”
&nbs
p; Tell him now. “Well, I’d already paid for the furnace, so it seemed a waste not to have it installed.”
“Oh, well, I hope he’s not putting too much stress on you. Between the kids, the household problems, and financial woes, you’ve got enough to deal with.”
If you only knew. “I’m fine.” A subject change was in order. “How was your day?”
“Busy, but good. I miss you, though.”
“You’re too busy to miss anything.”
“True, true.” He chuckled, a high-pitched haw, haw, haw. She remembered Jake’s deep throaty laugh, then chided herself for comparing.
“Any word from the uncle?”
“No, and it’s making me angrier by the day. How dare he fall out of contact with his loved ones for so long, you know? It’s supremely irresponsible.”
Stephen sighed. “I wish he’d just hurry so you could come home.”
She had to tell him, at least give him a hint. “Stephen, I’m not sure their uncle is suitable. The more I hear about him and the longer he stays away, the more I worry.” There, she’d said it. Well, not it, but she’d dropped a clue. She waited a full three seconds for his response.
“He’s the only option though, right? I mean, there’s not some other relative hiding in the woodwork, is there?” He gave a wry laugh.
“No. He’s the only other one.” She threw in that word, other, to remind him she was a relative too. He had to start seeing her, seeing them, as a viable option, because she was not deserting these kids. Surely he’d understand that. Even though they weren’t related to him, surely he’d see it was the Christian thing to do.
“Well, he’ll have to do, then.” He missed the clue completely.
She rubbed her temple. Her Jake-headache was morphing into a Stephen-headache. “I can’t hand the children over to some incompetent, irresponsible uncle, Stephen. They’re my siblings.” She lowered her voice in case one of the children was able to hear. “And he might not want them.”
“I know how stressful this is for you, but have faith. God’ll work this out.”
“Faith without works is dead, Stephen.”
“Meridith . . .” The tension in his voice was like a tight wire being snapped. Ping.
Driftwood Lane Page 12
