Love Built to Last

by Lisa Ricard Claro

  “Taylor Jackson. After my mommy’s grampa. Right, Dad?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Does your name stand for anything, Miss Maddie?”

  “My full name is Madelyn Rose, but when I was a teenager I thought it sounded old fashioned and shortened it to Maddie. A few people call me Mads.”

  TJ covered his mouth with his hand and giggled. “That’s funny.”

  Maddie smiled, nodded in agreement, and said to Cal, “How about you? Any nicknames?”

  “My sister Rebecca has a few that are best not repeated,” he said, amused. “But no, just Caleb or Cal.” His gaze stayed on Maddie, long enough to start the butterflies flitting in her belly. “I like your name, Madelyn Rose. It suits you. Serious and whimsical, both at the same time. Madelyn Rose.”

  Maddie had never been partial to her name, and she’d certainly never had it described as serious or whimsical. But it rolled from Caleb Walker’s tongue like it was something edible. Madelyn Rose—in that voice that ignited her female fantasies. Thank god the porch lights were off, because her cheeks burned hot as coals.

  His gaze roamed her face. He smiled and, still looking at her, said to TJ, “It’s getting late, buddy. I think we need to head out.”

  “But the bugs are still flashing their butts, Dad!”

  “That’s true, but we still have to go.” To Maddie, he said, “We never did go over the quote.”

  “Just leave it with me. I’ll call you if I have any questions.”

  They carried the remainder of their meal back to the kitchen and Maddie insisted on sending the leftover pizza home with them. After waving goodbye, she watched the truck drive from sight and then sat alone on the porch steps to enjoy the fireflies.

  Twilight turned to darkness. Somewhere in the woods, an owl hooted and its mate replied. The chirping of crickets and cicadas ramped up, singing the song of a North Georgia night.

  Maddie stayed out until the mosquito attacks turned fierce. She locked up, grabbed a book from the shelf in Jack’s office, and fell asleep reading Agatha Christie in his leather chair. When she awoke, close to midnight, she lifted a scrap of paper from the top of the desk to use as a bookmark, smiling when she read the words: New weekend library hours 10-6.

  “Thanks, Jack,” she whispered and, still half asleep, trudged upstairs to bed.

  ***

  Maddie woke early on Tuesday, excited to begin the day. She had shopping to do for her kitchen renovation and didn’t want to waste a moment. She dressed for comfort and set out on a mission to visit and wander through every home improvement store in a fifty-mile radius. The sooner she decided on appliances, countertops, and tile, the sooner things could be ordered and Caleb could begin the work on her kitchen transformation.

  She experienced a moment of disquiet when she drove past the site of Saturday’s accident. The black skid marks, her own and Jenny’s, caused a prickling to begin at the back of her neck and trickle down her spine. She swallowed in a vain attempt to quell the queasiness in her belly. Those rubbery lines in the road stood as proof that life could, and often did, turn upside down in a mere heartbeat.

  Like she needed a reminder.

  The shopping excursion, she discovered, proved to be less fun and more of a chore without someone with whom to share it. She gathered information, collected brochures and price sheets, made a few decisions on materials like tile and countertop, and asked a lot of questions, but by noon she sat in her car in the Home Depot parking lot, holding a great-gulp cup from the local convenience store and sucking watered-down Coca-Cola from a straw.

  She dreamed of soft-serve chocolate ice cream while flipping through an appliance brochure. Watching a glacier move would be more fun than shopping for a refrigerator. There were just too many to choose from.

  “You should purchase one with features you know you’ll want ten years from now,” the sales rep had told her.

  “I don’t even know what features I want right this second, let alone in ten years,” Maddie had retorted. “Can’t I just get a plain old fridge?”

  Apparently not. She scanned the itemization of refrigerator options. Over, under, side-by-side. Wasn’t this supposed to be fun?

  “Just shoot me.”

  Her cell rang and for once she was grateful for the intrusion. She glanced at the caller ID and her pulse jumped then thumped a triple-time beat.

  It was Caleb Walker.

  Chapter 4

  Cal told himself he wouldn’t call Maddie. She had the quote he’d left with her last night and said she’d contact him if she had any questions. There was no need to call her. No need at all.

  He lasted until lunchtime.

  “Hey,” he said when she answered her cell. “I thought I’d follow up, see if you had a chance to look at the quote.”

  “Actually, I’m glad you called. I’ve looked at kitchen appliances and they’re scaring me. Some of these bad boys have so many buttons and digital displays I’ll never figure them out.” She huffed out a breath. “On the bright side, I picked my floor tile already. I didn’t even need to bring home samples. I saw it and fell in love, and before you ask, yes, they come in the sixteen inch size you specified on the plans. And the counters were easy, too. All I need from you is dimensions for everything.”

  “Get me the specs on the materials and I’ll order everything for you. I can buy wholesale for a much better price than you’ll get buying retail.”

  “Okay. And there’s still the matter of the suspended lighting. I’ve been to a couple places looking at light fixtures but haven’t seen anything great yet.”

  “Wow,” Cal said and laughed. “You’ve had a busy morning. If you’re free, we could meet for lunch and talk about everything you’ll need to do before I start the demo work. It sounds like you’ve decided to do the whole rehab in one shot.”

  “No point going halfway. That’s what Jack would say. And, after looking at your plans, I’m excited about getting started, so, why wait?”

  “Well, in that case, I’m free for the next couple of hours if you want to meet for lunch. My treat. I owe you after the pizza and light show last night. Thanks for that, by the way. TJ and I had a great time, except now he’s decided that in addition to a dog we should also have a cat.”

  “TJ’s a great kid. But I told you that last night.”

  “Parents can never hear too many compliments about their children. So, uh, do you have a preference for lunch?”

  “I’m actually not too far from Caravicci’s, if you don’t mind a repeat of last night’s dinner. They have a pretty good lunch menu, light fare, salads and soups.”

  “None of that girlie stuff for me. I’m in it for the meatball sub and cannoli,” he said and made her laugh. “Caravicci’s is great. My friend Dante owns the place and, if we’re lucky, he’ll be executing his stellar chef skills today. I can be there in ten.”

  They hung up the call and Cal couldn’t suppress a smile. He focused on the spreadsheet he’d spent the morning working on, checked some figures, clicked “save,” grabbed his keys, and hummed all the way out to the truck. For the first time in a long time, he felt—ah, hell, he just felt. What a relief to know he still could.

  ***

  Maddie clicked off the call and rested the palm of her hand against her stomach, an ineffective antidote to the tumbling that appeared and reappeared of late with alarming frequency.

  Ever since the moment she’d laid eyes on Caleb Walker, if she were being honest.

  She reassured herself that she was just being silly, reading too much into what was, essentially, a business lunch. Caleb was the contractor she had hired, on Jack’s recommendation, no less, to renovate her kitchen. There was nothing more to it than that.

  Of course he wanted to meet her for lunch. She was a client who would pay a lot of money for his services. He was a businessman and just wanted to seal the deal.

  Really, Maddie? First dinner and now lunch? Who are you kidding?

  “Not d
inner.” She snapped the seatbelt into place and looked at the product brochures and spec sheets she had collected that morning, all piled up in the passenger seat. “Not dinner, Jack. Pizza, that’s all. Just pizza with a nice man and his sweet little boy. And this is just lunch, to talk about the renovation.”

  Then why so giddy, Mads?

  She turned on the engine and blasted the radio, singing along to Carrie Underwood while attempting to drown out the internal war that raged between the opposing forces of anticipation and guilt.

  She thought she had it under control until she pulled into the parking lot and spotted Cal’s truck. Her heart ka-thumped.

  Maddie’s cell rang and she answered without hesitation, happy for the delay. “Brenna, hey.” She made her voice breezy and easygoing. Nonchalant seemed a good bet.

  “You sound funny. Everything okay?”

  Maddie let out a nervous little laugh. So much for nonchalant. “I’m sitting in my car outside Caravicci’s.”

  “So?”

  Maddie blew out a breath. “I’m meeting Caleb Walker for lunch.”

  “Re—ally?” The way Brenna drew out the word made Maddie emit an uneasy laugh.

  “Yes, really. It’s just a business lunch, but I’m nervous as a cat. It’s not a date, Brenna. It’s not. But after dinner last night and—”

  “Omigod! You went on a dinner date with the carpenter? Maddie, that’s awesome! That’s epic! And you didn’t call to tell me?”

  “No, no. Not a date. He came over with his little boy to drop off the quote for my kitchen, and they stayed for pizza. It wasn’t a big deal, really. That’s why I don’t understand why I’m so, you know, antsy.”

  “You mean you don’t want to understand it. You’re coming back to life, and it’s about time. This is great. This is really, really great.”

  “It’s not a date, I told you. We’re just meeting to talk about the renovation.”

  “Okay, if you say so,” Brenna sing-songed.

  “Don’t tease. I’m a bundle of nerves here.” Her self-consciousness only revved Brenna up more.

  “Just promise you’ll invite me over when he starts the actual work. Don’t hoard him, okay? Mom said he’s hot, and he must be because you aren’t disagreeing, so I have a yen to see him shirtless, wearing low-slung jeans and a tool belt.”

  “Okay, we’re done.” Maddie closed her eyes and made a face. “How am I supposed to go in there now and have a normal lunch with the guy with that image burned into my brain?”

  “Shirtless. Tool belt. That’s what I’m talking about. Call me later. I want details, Maddie.”

  “You’re incorrigible, and I love you. Bye.”

  Maddie clicked off the call, scooped up the brochures and spec sheets, grabbed her purse, and climbed from the car. She looked down at her clothes and bit her lip. She really had to start taking better care with her fashion choices. She dug in her purse for lipstick and came up with an old tube of gloss. Better than nothing. She took a minute to apply it, pulled the scrunchie from her hair, and then reconsidered—who knew what kind of cowlicks she’d created putting it up wet?—and made a new ponytail.

  “Not a date,” she whispered, wishing that when she dressed that morning she had chosen to wear the cornflower sundress with the strappy espadrilles instead of the faded capris and grubby, if comfy, flip-flops. The man was going to think she didn’t own any other shoes. Too late now.

  She took a deep breath and opened the door. The scents of marinara sauce and garlic bread assaulted her, and her mouth watered. She scanned the room for Caleb and spotted him filling one half of a booth in the back of the restaurant. He stood when he saw her and his face lit with a smile.

  Her heart drummed a staccato beat. Sweet Lord, he was something, all big and muscular and—Take a breath, Mads, before you hyperventilate.

  “Wow. You really went everywhere, didn’t you? Let me help with those.” He relieved her of the brochures and papers and set them on the table in as neat a stack as the varying shapes and sizes would allow.

  “My plan was to organize it all when I got home.” Maddie slid into the booth, and none too soon. That voice of his melted her kneecaps. She offered an apologetic shrug. “You ruined my agenda by inviting me to lunch.”

  “We’ll sort through it together while we wait for our food. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve found.”

  The waitress, a young woman with multiple piercings and bottle-black hair that didn’t match her Irish complexion or the sprinkling of ginger freckles across her nose and cheeks, came by, took their drink order of two sweet teas, and left menus with the promise to be right back. She was as good as her word, and they soon had their beverages and had placed their food order.

  “My name is Chloe. Just holler if you need anything. Your order shouldn’t take long. We’re busy, but Dante’s running the kitchen today so lunch rush will go smooth as silk.” She paused, blinked at Cal, and tilted her head. “Hey, I know you. Your little boy plays tee-ball with my niece. I’ve seen you at the ballpark.”

  “You must belong to Kylie, then. She’s the only girl on the team. My son, TJ, is greatly enamored of Kylie’s skills with a ball and bat.”

  Chloe’s face split with a grin. “Wait ’til he sees her during soccer season. She’s a beast on the field.”

  “You said Dante’s in the kitchen today.” At Chloe’s nod, Cal continued. “I’m Cal Walker. We’re friends. Please tell him I said hey.”

  “You bet. I’ll be back with your food in a jiffy.”

  Chloe rushed off to another table and Cal smiled at Maddie. “Half the people I meet these days are somehow connected to one of TJ’s activities. A few months ago it was pee-wee football, and now it’s tee-ball.”

  “So where is your mini-me?”

  “My parents have him today. His best friend, Henry, lives right next door, so he usually hangs out over there when I’m out at a job site. Henry’s mother, Shelley, is a single mom and can use the extra money, so it works out great for both of us.”

  “I guess that’s preferable to a daycare center?”

  Cal took a drink of the sweet tea, smeared the condensation on the side of the glass with his thumb. “My wife Gwen and I talked about it before she died. She made me promise I’d never put TJ in a daycare center.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. My family helps and we make it work. And there are plenty of times, like today, that I’m at home doing paperwork, so TJ hangs with me on those days. Just not today.”

  “Right. The grandparents. You’re lucky to have a solid support system.”

  “I don’t know how single parents manage when they don’t have that kind of teamwork going on.”

  “If Jack and I’d had kids his folks would have been front and center. My parents, now, are another matter. My dad is a blackjack dealer in Vegas, and my mom owns an art gallery in Miami. It wasn’t enough for them to get divorced, they had to live on opposite ends of the country.”

  “That must’ve been rough on you.”

  “I was in college when they split, and it wasn’t unexpected.” Because dear old Dad was a serial cheater. She took a long sip of her sweet tea. “And I had met Jack by then, so my mind was on my own romance, not my parents’ troubles.”

  “Are you close to them?”

  “Not the way you mean.” She paused to consider her next words. “We love each other, but we lead separate lives. And I can see from your expression that you feel sorry for me. Don’t.” She smiled, and meant it. “My parents love me and I love them. We’re just not close. And it’s not like I’m alone in the world. I have Jack’s family here in Bright Hills. They made me one of their own, and even with Jack gone, I still see them all the time, spend holidays with them. It’s all good.”

  “I never realized before how much I take it for granted, having my family here, all of us in the same town. If anything, I’ve wished for a little distance sometimes. We get in each other’s way. Frequently.”

  “How did you meet
your wife?”

  “After college at Auburn, I lived in Atlanta for a while, interned with an architectural firm in Buckhead, spent a couple years after that doing the corporate thing. Gwen was an interior designer working for the same firm. After we got married we had the idea we’d start our own business, so we ditched Atlanta and moved up here. She got pregnant with TJ and the second he was born that was the end of interior designing for her. All she wanted to do was be a mom.”

  Maddie didn’t know what to say, so she sipped her beverage and waited.

  “Anyway, moving back to Bright Hills was a good decision. I love this town, even more so now that I’m old enough to appreciate it, and especially after living in the city.”

  “So you’re a country boy at heart.”

  “I guess so, yeah.”

  “Do Gwen’s folks live in Bright Hills, too?”

  “No. They passed away when she was a kid. She was raised by her mom’s family down in Tift County. We haven’t had much contact with them since Gwen died.”

  Their conversation halted when the food appeared. Chloe topped off their iced teas, dropped extra napkins on the table, and rushed off to take care of other diners.

  Cal dug into his meatball sub and, between bites, looked through the product information Maddie had collected. They sorted through the documentation and sales pitches so Cal could develop a clear idea of Maddie’s preferences. He nodded when she explained the reasons for her choices, made suggestions when she seemed confused about features and specs, and by the time his plate was empty and her salad was gone, the unmanageable heap had become two piles, one to keep and one to toss in the recycle bin.

  He talked her into splitting a cannoli, and they ordered cappuccinos to enjoy with the dessert. The remainder of their conversation stayed within the confines of the kitchen renovation as they continued to review the brochures and spec sheets. Cal asked questions and clarified her preferences, scribbling notes in a thick binder he opened after the dishes were cleared from the table.

  “Will you still start on Thursday?” Maddie asked when the discussion began to wind down. “I’m anxious to get the project underway now that I’ve decided to go ahead with it.”