by Amy Gamet
It would be like that, he knew it would.
If I can do it.
He opened his eyes, taking in the starry night and the Milky Way beyond. "She deserves better than me."
Greg swam back to shore.
He stood up, water dripping from his body.
He would do nothing.
He would do his best to keep his distance from Lisa and stay out of her relationship with Melanie. He would fly under the radar until Lisa left town. It was for the best, no matter how much he wished that wasn’t true.
* * *
Lisa walked out the back door with a bottle of wine in one hand and a wineglass in the other. It was dark out, save for the moonlight, and she moved slowly as her eyes adjusted to the shadows. In the distance she could just make out the gazebo, and she hummed on a sigh.
Her father had bought it for her mother on their anniversary years before. It was one of her mother’s favorite places, and as Lisa got older it became one of hers, too, a spot for her to be quiet, or to sneak a six-pack with her friends.
She opened the screen door and stepped inside. Tonight it was thoughts of Greg that brought her here, thoughts that seemed to demand her full attention and the loud kind of silence she could always hear in this space.
She took a seat on the swing and poured herself a drink.
Sweet Greg.
She shook her head. If he had his way, she would leave him alone, but she already knew she couldn’t do that. He was hurting. She could no sooner walk away from him than she could walk away from an injured animal.
She tipped her head back, the motion of the swing sending a wave of weightlessness through her body.
This guy could be dangerous.
For all the men in her life, she’d never really cared about any of them. Sure, some were amusing, or good company for a while, but Greg was different. He pulled on her heartstrings and aggravated her to pieces, a combination that attracted her more than she would have thought possible.
He’d tasted so good, too, the scent of him drawing her in. But he was so much more than she was looking for, so much darker, so much more real, and that energy was palpable when she held him in her arms.
How could Melanie have let him go?
A movement on the lawn between her and the house caught her attention, setting her on edge. She narrowed her eyes, watching as the figure got closer, slowly recognizing her sister’s form as Melanie approached.
"Can I come in?" Melanie asked.
Lisa thought of the angry words from their last meeting, the slap of her palm on her sister’s cheek, and her stomach dipped with an anxious wobble.
She scooted over on the swing. "Yeah."
Melanie sat down, the space between them as wide as a tether could stretch, the tension humming.
"I couldn’t sleep," said Melanie.
Lisa frowned. "That’s because it’s nine o’clock."
"I’ve been tired lately." The women began to rock together. "Rafael told you about the baby."
"Yes. Congratulations." She meant it, no matter what else was true.
"I’ve been sleeping like a bear in winter. Except tonight, after our argument, I couldn’t stop thinking about you."
Lisa pursed her lips. "I’m sorry I slapped you."
"I deserved it."
Lisa’s mind drifted over her sister’s brutal accusations. How little must Melanie think of her to believe she had come home to take advantage of the situation?
Melanie cleared her throat. "I’m sorry I told you to go away." Her voice broke and Lisa realized Mel was crying.
"Are you okay?"
"No. I’ve been crying at the drop of a hat lately, and this is just too much. Pregnancy hormones, I guess."
"You have a lot on your plate."
Melanie nodded vigorously. "Yeah. I really do."
She sounded so overwhelmed. Lisa reached up and touched her sister’s shoulder. "I can help."
"Why would you want to help me after everything I said to you today?"
"I’m a glutton for punishment." She knew her sister too well, knew how tightly Melanie held the reins. "The question is, will you let me?"
"I want to…" Melanie pushed the swing harder. "I’ve been so angry with you for so long. How could you not tell me you were at the funeral?"
Lisa had known it was a mistake even as she was making it, but she hadn’t seemed able to do anything else in her grief over her father’s death.
She remembered the long drive to town, snow falling at an alarming rate as she cried. Her hands were clenched so hard on the wheel, her palms numb.
"The weather was bad. I didn’t leave enough time for the drive." She took a deep breath, the memory of that day still fresh in her mind. "I got there after it started, so I hung back. I got so emotional, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Then when the service ended, I didn’t want to see the disappointment on Mom’s face because I’d been late. I just couldn’t handle one more thing."
"You let her think you skipped the funeral because you didn’t want her to know you’d been late?"
"I didn’t plan it, Melanie. I got in my car and I drove toward the house, but when I got there, I just kept going." She turned to face her sister. "It was stupid and selfish of me. I regret it more than I regret anything else in my whole life." Her face crumpled and she reached to cover her mouth.
Melanie lifted her arms. "Come here."
Lisa hugged her sister tightly, letting the tears come. "I’m so sorry, Mel."
"It’s okay."
Wrapped in her sister’s embrace, Lisa wondered when she’d last been held like this, comforted. She thought of the baby Melanie was carrying, knowing how deeply that child would be loved, how many times it would be held in her sister’s arms like Lisa was now.
Lisa exhaled and sat back against the swing. "Thank you." It felt good to tell Melanie the truth. Lisa hadn’t realized how heavy that experience had weighed on her shoulders. "I was so scared to come home, but I’m really glad I did."
"I’m glad you came back, too."
The crest of emotion that rose up in Lisa could have knocked her to the ground. Her throat was tight. "Really? You’re glad I came back?"
Melanie nodded. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." Lisa sniffed and wiped at her nose. "And I didn’t realize it was a burden taking care of Mom. Now that I do, I’ll do my share. I promise."
"It’s really only been hard the last two years or so. That’s when I moved home. I had to hire help before she moved to St. Anne’s so I could work. You remember Loretta Mahoney?"
"The psychic lady from the beauty shop?"
"That’s the one."
She was little more than a stranger. Lisa shook her head. "I should have been here."
"It’s okay," said Melanie. "You’re here now."
There was such peace in those words. Lisa bathed in them like she was soaking up sunshine. A week ago, she never would have believed this moment could happen, yet here she was, experiencing it.
"Lisa?"
"Hmm?"
Melanie paused. "Is there something between you and Greg?"
Lisa held her breath.
She considered lying, but knew in her heart that any relationship with Melanie’s ex-boyfriend would be hard enough without half-truths thrown into the mix.
She took a deep breath. Her kiss with Greg had been intense, but it certainly hadn’t ended the way she wanted. "I hope so." And because it suddenly mattered more than she ever thought it would, she asked, "Do you mind?"
"I don’t know. Would you care if I did?"
Lisa gazed into the dark night sky. "I’d care, but I don’t know if it would keep me from trying." Greg was becoming more important to her with each passing day. She could only hope her feelings for him wouldn’t come between her and Melanie.
* * *
Lisa woke up to birds chirping outside her window and groaned. She’d had too much wine last night, and now she was a little hung-over.
&
nbsp; She looked around the room without moving. The wallpaper was faded, bright rectangles of the original print showing where pictures used to hang.
That couldn’t be good for a potential buyer to see. It was dated and it made the whole room scream fixer-upper. She’d barely noticed when she first got here, thinking the house would stay in the family, but now it seemed like something that should be fixed.
She stood up and walked to a seam, got under it with her nails and began to pull. So what if she’d never stripped wallpaper before? How hard could it be?
A large swath of paper ripped from its under layer before she had a chance to consider her actions.
She smiled.
She found another corner to pick at, again ripping the faded old flowers from their paper backing. This time the wallpaper tore all the way to the next seam, and Lisa was energized. She wasn’t even dressed, working in her underwear and a ribbed tank top, her determination to uncover these walls more important than a shower or a little thing like clothing.
Her mother would be happy, Lisa was sure.
She went downstairs and found a radio, brought it up and sang along to classic rock while she worked.
An hour and a half into it, she had the top layer of the paper off ninety percent of the walls. The room was already looking better, simply for the change. A vibrant energy was flowing through her, just like when she created art, and the realization made her long to do something bigger than stripping wallpaper.
She closed her eyes, the scent of a butane flame and molten metal floating back on her memory. Sculpting was her absolute favorite. When was the last time she allowed herself to create something? It had been years, that was for sure, and she suddenly missed it acutely.
Her eyes opened.
Greg’s phone conversation with the mayor played back in her mind. There wasn’t money to do what Greg wanted with the Veterans Memorial. Maybe if she talked to Mayor Tucker and offered to help, she could help make the changes to the memorial a reality for Greg.
Memorial Day was right around the corner.
It was like kismet.
There wasn’t a lot of time. If she was really going to do this, she had to talk to the mayor pronto, and it didn’t help that it was Saturday. But Mary Kay Tucker used to be a staple at Lag’s Diner, and Lisa had a hunch Mary Kay’s election to mayor hadn’t changed that one bit.
Lisa eyed the remaining wallpaper. She’d just get the top layer completely off the walls, then go hunting for the mayor.
Ten minutes later, she was singing along to Prince while she balanced on the nightstand and pulled the last full sheet down in one complete piece, hooting and hollering at her own accomplishment, when someone started clapping behind her.
Whipping around, she lost her balance on the nightstand and fell off, landing in a heap on the floor.
Greg stood in the doorway, laughing.
"What are you doing here?" she yelled, one hand reaching up to cover herself. "It’s Saturday." She yanked a blanket off the bed, wrapping it around herself like a toga.
"I came for the show. I heard Prince was performing at nine."
"You’re not funny. How did you get in?"
"I have a key. I knocked, but you didn’t answer."
"Well then, by all means, just walk in."
"Thanks, I did." He smiled. "Decided to do a little redecorating, did you?"
All she could think about was the kiss they shared the last time she’d seen him, and she could feel her neck getting flushed. Why did the man have to be the best kisser she’d ever had the pleasure to lock lips with, then turn around and tell her he didn’t want her?
He furrowed his brow. "You know you have to wash all the glue off the walls, right?"
She’d never heard any such thing, but she shrugged one shoulder, hoping she looked confident. "Of course I do."
"Good."
She hiked up her toga. "Why are you here?"
"I’m meeting you mother in fifteen minutes. You should get dressed."
"She’s coming here?"
He nodded. "To see the bathroom."
Lisa’s heart sank. "Then you’re finished." She’d noticed last night that everything looked done, but she was holding out hope he had work left to do.
"Yes. I don’t think you want her to see you ripping wallpaper off in your…pajamas. Does she know you’re taking this down?" He gestured to the walls.
"Tell her I’m doing my part to increase the resale value."
"I’ll take that as a no, and you can tell her yourself."
She looked at the clock. "I’m going out. I have to talk to…someone. About something."
"Sounds important."
"Some people think it is."
"You’re all about the details, aren’t you?"
She smiled. "I prefer to be called mysterious."
"Mysterious it is, then." He put his hands in his pockets. "Lisa, you know that anything between us would never work out, right?"
The comment was so unexpected, it felt like a sucker-punch to the gut. She didn’t want to talk about this now, didn’t have the time to argue. She lifted her chin. "I know that’s what you think."
"It’s the truth."
She dropped her gaze to her lap. Couldn’t he see how good they could be together? She lifted her head to speak, but the doorway was empty.
She dropped on to the bed with a frown. It was going to take a lot more convincing to make Greg let her into his life.
* * *
"Well, this looks fantastic. Just like it did before, only clean and refreshed." Barbara Addario looked around the room, checking the floor at the corners and where it met the fixtures. "Greg, you’ve done a wonderful job."
An odd grumpiness was spreading through him. This was the end. He wouldn’t be in the Addario house again after today. He was suddenly very sorry they were selling the old place, and thought of Lisa. "I’m glad you like it."
"Now," she said, leaning back against the sink, "we need to talk about the kitchen."
He narrowed his eyes. "The kitchen?"
"I was speaking with my Realtor, and she seems to think it would be well worth my while to remodel the kitchen. That I should be able to get as much as a hundred and fifty percent of my investment back with the sale."
"That may be true, since the kitchen’s so old, but it’s already on the market…"
"Wonderful! Let’s do it. Lisa can help you with the design."
He immediately remembered the way he’d imagined holding Lisa against the counter, his hands in her hair holding her to him.
He shook his head to clear it.
"Mrs. Addario, I’m not prepared to take on a kitchen remodel at this time."
And certainly not with your daughter.
He didn’t trust himself when Lisa was around.
"Do you have another job you need to get to?"
"No, not until the first of the month, but…"
"Well then, it’s settled."
Greg crossed his arms. "I don’t think I’m the man for the job. I’ll get you a few names. Maybe Chuck Rogers. You can call around…"
She furrowed her brow. "I told you, I’m not comfortable with anyone except you, Greg. I’m not even living here right now. I trust you, both to do the work and to take care of this house and my daughter."
"Your daughter?"
"Well, yes. Lisa is also a factor in my decision. She needs to have someone here she can get along with."
He was beginning to smell a rat in Denmark. Would Mrs. Addario really approve of him and Lisa together? "I think I understand."
"Do you? Oh, good."
"What if I don’t take the job?"
She leaned forward and touched his arm. "Gregory, please. I’m an old woman. I don’t know how much time I have left. It’s important to me to see this project through to its rightful ending."
He looked down at her hand on his arm, the sparkly rings and the painted fingernails. He loved this woman nearly as much as his own mother, and s
he seemed anything but terminally ill.
She’s up to something.
He pursed his lips. "You said Lisa could help with the design."
"Oh, yes. She’s very good with anything artsy and visual. Did you know, her sculptures finaled in a state competition during high school?"
"No."
She nodded. "One of her pieces is standing in a park in downtown Albany to this day."
"And you’re pretty confident that a sculptor would make a great kitchen designer."
"Oh, definitely."
"I think I know what you’re up to."
"Trying to sell my house. Get the most bang for my buck."
"Exactly. This is about selling a house."
"I always liked you, Greg."
"I used to like you too, Mrs. Addario."
The slightest smirk belied her seeming lack of comprehension. "I think this project is good for you."
Good for him?
She was talking about Lisa.
His mind immediately went back to the burst of passion he’d felt holding Lisa in his arms. If he was going to keep working in the Addario house, he’d be tempted to kiss Lisa again.
Maybe more.
He should say no.
"You think so?" he asked.
She winked. "I know so. I have a good head for these sorts of things."
He wanted to. More than he had any right to want anything, he wanted to stay here and rub elbows with Lisa.
"Then I’ll do it," he said.
Chapter 8
Greg swung the sledgehammer into the side of a kitchen cabinet, pulling the wood from the wall with a satisfying crack. His hands might be demolishing a hundred year-old kitchen, but his mind was very firmly with Lisa.
When he rounded the corner at the top of the steps and saw her bare legs, the underwear barely covering her backside, he about fell to the floor. It had been all he could do not to yank her down from there and show her what a sight like that could do to a man.
"You’re stupid," he mumbled to himself, leveling the sledgehammer onto a piece of counter, which broke in half. All the women in the world and he’d just committed to spending the next month with that one. "Dumb as the day is long." He shook his head. "What were you thinking taking this job?"
