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“No, ma’am, I didn’t. I only know it pulled out from beside Zach’s car—I think it did—because I heard when he didn’t pick up his kid, his dad went to his place, then he came here, saw the car. He called thepolice. Then they came and talked to a bunch of us. Some think maybe he walked off so he could go somewhere else and do himself for real.”
“You don’t.”
For the first time, he met her eyes and held them.
“No, ma’am, I don’t. I’ve thought and thought about it, and I just don’t. He was happy when he clocked out. He’s always happy when it’s his weekend with his kid, but he was especially happy because he was giving the kid this big treat, you know? How could he be so happy, then turn around and walk off like that in five minutes?”
Then he shrugged, drank again. “I don’t know. I’m going to be an accountant, not a psychiatrist.”
She talked to him a few more minutes, but the only new element? A happy whistle.
Since she’d driven up, she talked to his supervisor, then a couple more coworkers.
Opinions varied, but one stuck hard.
His son was the center of his world.
By the time she got home, dark had fallen. Light shined in her windows, and the Ford truck sat outside.
Not good timing, she thought, not when she felt frustrated on so many levels. She wanted a drink, her pj’s, and quiet time.
Tic rushed her at the door, wriggled as she petted.
Then she walked in to a fire in the hearth, her walls shining under new lighting, the Shaker door on her closet.
And Nash on a ladder, installing what looked like the rest of her trim.
He looked particularly good—due no doubt to her level of sexual frustration—in a faded denim shirt, work pants, and boots and holding a nail gun.
He glanced down. “Thought you’d be later.”
“I’m not.” With a kind of purr, she ran her hand down the new closet door.
She took a few steps, studied the matching one on her bathroom, then turned a circle.
“This is exactly right. So are the lights, and the trim. And—you hung the mirrors.”
“Your mom came by. She wouldn’t take no.”
“Well, she’s exactly right, as usual. It’s cozy, but not cramped and dark and sad. You’re working alone?”
“Theo and Robo had a date.”
She’d walked into the kitchen for a dog biscuit, and glanced back. “They’re dating each other now?”
“Ha. Theo’s still heart-eyes over your sister.”
She pointed; Tic sat. And the biscuit was his.
“I should go back and just say, with some surprise: Robo has a date?”
“Yeah.” The nail gun did the whoosh-bang. “I’ve never seen anybody so worked up about going bowling.”
“Maybe he fears gutter ball humiliation.”
“Could be it.” He glanced down at her. “Look, I can clear out, but if you give me another twenty, I can finish, clean up, then clear out. Robo can come in tomorrow while you’re at work and seal this trim.”
“That works for me. All of this works for me.” She made that purring sound again when she opened the closet, saw the new shelves. “Yes, it does.”