“I wouldn’t say filled. You’ve been wonderful. You gave me some great deals.” I smiled broadly to her back, hoping she’d turn, but she didn’t.
“I sold you clothes from my shop at the marked price. I wasn’t exactly doing charity work.”
“Not true. You found me great clothes that I desperately needed at a price I could pay. And your grandfather just gave me a bunch of his old furniture.”
Mo turned at that. “He did?”
Smiling, I continued, “He and Aiden went through the attic and basement, pulling pieces, cleaning, and hauling them over. I slept in a bed last night! I cannot express strongly enough how wonderful that was.” I held up a hand. “That was okay, right? Aiden said you didn’t want it.”
She waved away the concern. “I told Pops years ago I didn’t like it. Too dark for me.” Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath. “They’ve both been so bitter. Alice. Then your grandmother dying. Both of them haven’t been themselves for too long.” She studied me. “They brought you food and furniture? Argued with Chuck about firing you?” At my nod, she grinned and threw an arm around me. “Excellent! Now, what can I do for you?”
Russet leaves swirled in the wake of the cars driving up Main toward the old farm road that led to Gran’s. I had the back windows open so Chaucer could hang out, enjoying the wind and scents bombarding him.
When we pulled up to the house, I couldn’t help but think home. This was my home. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get these bags inside.” I opened the back door for Chaucer, who jumped down and immediately began patrolling the area. Interesting. He’d never done that before. He’d sniffed. He’d meandered. He’d definitely sauntered, but he’d never patrolled. Newfoundlands were water rescue dogs, not shepherds or guard dogs. Perhaps this was feeling like home to him as well, one that needed to be protected by the man of the house.
In addition to the television I’d purchased after leaving Mo’s boutique, I’d also picked up some new bedding. I wanted to make Gran’s house my own, starting with the bedroom.
The sheets I chose were a rich, buttery cream color. The warm down comforter was a vibrant teal, Van Gogh’s flowering almond tree painted across the fabric, delicate but brimming with life. Justin preferred subtle earth tones, nothing too bright or garish. I was desperate for color.
After the linens store, I stopped at the hardware store for paint and painting supplies. They even had a small coffeemaker on sale, so I bought that, too.
I considered the spot on the top of the paint can. I’d chosen a color somewhere between periwinkle and violet. It was a bold choice, and a joyous one. How long did it take to paint a room? I wanted to sleep in my new bedding in a violet room tonight.
I brought in everything, weighed down, trudging up the stairs. It felt good. I was taking steps, making decisions. Chaucer got sick of following me up and down the stairs, though, choosing to flop onto his bed and watch the action instead.
Once all my purchases were inside, I made a quick call to the cable company to set up an appointment for service and then dragged furniture into the center of the bedroom so I could prepare to paint.
In addition to the periwinkle-violet, I’d also chosen a soft eggshell white for the baseboards and trim. The woman at the hardware store explained what to do. First up was taping off. After about forty-five minutes of climbing up and down a chair, taping off the ceiling and trim, my arms were sore and I was seriously rethinking doing this on my own. But I took another look at the paint sample and decided I just needed a late lunch break before I began painting. I checked my watch, correcting that to an early dinner break.
“Come on, sweets. Let’s get some grub.” Chaucer was up like a shot and down the stairs before I had a chance to jump from the chair. Didn’t have to ask him twice.
I’d just sat down to a leftover rice dish when Chaucer stood alert and woofed toward the front of the house. A minute later, a knock sounded. Chaucer and I padded through the house. I opened the door, expecting Aiden or maybe Mr. Cavanaugh, but was instead confronted by a man in a cable uniform. His face had the slightly bloated look of a long-time alcoholic. Bruise-colored skin circled his eyes.
I took an involuntary step back. There was no logical reason for my sudden fear, but it was there, and Chaucer sensed it, pushing into the doorway in front of me. It was the man’s turn to take a step back, his eyes wary as they took in the sheer size and strength of my dog.
He smiled, and that was somehow worse.
“Ma’am.” He pointed to the patch on his shirt identifying him as Joe and an employee of Island Cable. “I’m from the cable company. You called for a hookup?” His eyes dragged over me.
“Yes. I did. They said someone would be out in a couple of days.” I was more than willing to wait a few days for a different installer.
“That’s right, but I was working nearby and had a cancellation, so they sent me over.” There was a challenge in his eyes, one that said he was aware of how uncomfortable he made me.
I was sick of being afraid. I could take care of myself, and I had a big protective dog to help. “All right. Come in. I’ll show you where I want the cable installed.” I stepped back to let him through. Chaucer was still tense, but I was doing my best to appear relaxed and in charge.
Joe stepped in and looked around, his eyes scanning quickly. “Nice place,” he mumbled as he walked through the living room toward the back of the house.
“We’re going upstairs. I want the TV in the bedroom. I’m actually painting up there today, but I’m sure we can work around each other.” Not to mention I wasn’t planning on leaving him unattended in my home.
I showed him the little flat-screen I’d purchased earlier in the day, still in its box. I pointed to a long, low bureau. “I’d like to set it up on top of that, so it’s visible from the bed.” I glanced over at the pile of drop cloths, paint trays, brushes, blue tape, and rags that were currently burying my bed. “It’s in the center of the room so I can paint, but it’s normally against that wall.” I pointed. “And the bureau is against this opposite one. Can the cable be installed in here?”
He looked around, focusing a little too intently on me, and I shivered. Why hadn’t I just said I was busy and couldn’t do the installation now? I’d ignored the survival instinct telling me to slam and lock the front door. Or perhaps I was being a narrow-minded, superficial bitch, equating a scary face with a black heart.
He didn’t wait to see if I came to any conclusions about beauty image and preconceived notions of good and evil, instead hunkering down near the wall and the electrical outlet. “You’re going to need wireless cable. We don’t have a cable line to hook into way out here. I need to check to see if you can get a strong enough signal before I start.”
I hadn’t considered that, big-city girl that I was. “My grandmother had a TV. Wouldn’t that mean that she had cable?”
He just stared at me a minute, his expression clearly stating that I was too stupid to live. “No.” He turned back around to the device in his hand that had lights streaking up and down it. “It should work. The reception won’t be as good as if you had the signal coming through a cable into the box, but it’ll be a hell of a lot better than you’d get without it. And no drilled holes, which usually makes people happy.” He checked his clipboard. “You also want internet, right?”
