“You have an amazing family. I’m truly envious.”
Scott hopped off his stool and brought over the coffee pot, topping them both off. “Finn probably told you I like to meddle.”
She grinned, taking another sip. “He implied as much.”
“Well, consider this a proud father standing up for his son. He’s an incredible player, and I don’t want him to miss out on anything life has to offer. Whatever he decides, he needs to know it was his choice, not mine or anyone else’s. That he didn’t get stuck with the burden of taking on what Brenda and I created.”
“I get the feeling he easily follows the path of least resistance.”
Scott winked over his mug. “You got that right. If that ex of his hadn’t ended things, it might have taken him a few years to figure out she wasn’t the one.”
Uh-oh. Not another ambush. “I should get going.”
“I know. I figure Zoe already gave you the run-down last night, but I wanted to make sure you knew why. Finn has come alive the last few months, more so since you came around. He’s happy, more than I’ve seen in years. But it’s up to him to fight for what he wants. I know you’re not ready, like Finn wasn’t ready not too long ago. But… don’t let him off the hook yet. I suspect it’ll do you both some good.”
She drained the last of her coffee and rose from the stool, placing the empty mug in the sink. Did they want her to let Finn go so he could decide on his own, or tie him down for a lifelong relationship? More confused than ever, Haley promised to route back with him in a week or two with the ideas for his man cave.
That erosive pit in her gut followed her home. Hung around as she took an efficiently short shower. Didn’t let up when she looked in the fridge but couldn’t find anything worth eating.
Stomping her foot, she hopped in the car and drove to Sutherland’s Hardware and bought a few gallons of paint. No better time than the present to tackle the upstairs rooms.
19
Turnover
Whenherphoneranga few days later, distracting her from the unrelenting pit in her stomach, Haley juggled the phone in a desperate rush to answer. Swallowing a threatening teary lump, she blinked away the disappointment. Not that it was Trace, but that it wasn’t…
Nope. Not going there. Answering, she sported her chipperest voice, “Trace? Are you back?”
“Yes, I am home, jet-lagged, and already lonely, and I want you to invite me over to do projects.”
She laughed, but feared it came across as a donkey’s bray as she hadn’t felt the sensation in days. A good friend might wash away her own loneliness. “Lonely? Who did you hang out with before I stumbled back into town?”
“I’ve only been back a year or so, and, well, I’ve been busy. I spend time with the other teachers but not socially, I’ve got my folks, and, well, the ex and his friends that were sort of my friends but with how things ended, well, I’m letting the dust settle and plan to call him when the jetlag wears off to work things out, one way or another, before we see each other socially. Hence, my clinginess to my old bestie.” The end of her monologue lilted with unabashed optimism.
“Do you enjoy painting?”
“Like for artistic purposes or walls?”
“Walls. Lots of them.”
“I’m in.”
“Fantastic. You can fill me in on your summer while we make this place beautiful. I’ll snap a few befores for the blog while you pick up breakfast.”
“Better yet, I’m walking over and will arrive with breakfast in twenty minutes or less.”
“Are you at your folks’ house?”
“Yes. The lease was up on my rental and my landlord was a butt. So, I’m crashing here until I find something better. If I don’t commit patricide.”
“Ouch, I’m sorry. He’s not building another playhouse, is he? I still have visions of him sitting in the middle of the lawn with pages of instructions floating in the air like maple leaves, the ‘foundation’ a bungled mass of two-by-fours.”
“No, he’s not allowed to attempt carpentry anymore. I’ll fill you in when I get there.”
“Hurry over. I’m starving.”
Haley snapped a few shots of empty rooms, paint cans, and patched up walls where she’d taken down outdated curtain rods. After getting home from Finn’s last week, she’d taken advantage of the solitude. Sort of. More, she’d ripped all the old crap off the walls, then patched up her carelessness. Every time she picked up the phone, she’d put it back down and found something else that needing demolishing or scrubbing or caulking.
