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“Forty-three. And it wasn’t planned.”
“Obviously a welcomed surprise.” The two shared another laugh.
“So, Trish, where do you live?” he asked, not releasing her. His arm around her felt comfortable and something else...safe.
“In Queens, just a short subway trip to my job in Manhattan.”
“You planning to stay in Queens once you’re married?” Craig was staring out across the street.
“No. I have a lovely studio apartment, but it’s too small. Harrison has an older condo on the Palisades in New Jersey, overlooking the Hudson. Once he sells it, we’re hoping to combine our funds and get something closer to the city.” Trish concentrated on the toes of her sneakers and wiggled them a little before looking past them to the landscape spread before them.
“And this house wouldn’t do? You know we’re called the bedroom of New York for a reason. The train runs right through the town.” Craig pulled his arm away, leaned forward and pointed. “See? There it goes now. You just sit in a comfortable seat, take a nap or read a book, and you’re in Manhattan in no time.”
“My point exactly. I’ve tried talking to Harrison about it, but so far no luck.” She turned toward him, adding a smile. “Maybe you could convince him when he comes here.”
“Then you want to keep the house? Live here? Raise a family?”
With a sigh, Trish watched the train disappearing in the distance. “I want something we’ll both enjoy. If this place isn’t going to work for both of us, we’ll find something that does.”
Trish pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them and leaned forward. Craig sat up, as well, duplicating her position.
“Why did you stop writing to me?” he asked.
* * *
HE HAD TO KNOW. Before she left for Virginia, they had been best friends, talked to each other every day. They had shared everything. Their thoughts, their hopes, their dreams for the future. Why had their email correspondence suddenly stopped?
“I was new to the school... I’m sorry. I... We were so far away from each other.” She paused. Would she continue? He didn’t want to spook her, certainly not on the roof, but he remembered those months after she left as an agonizing time.
“I wanted to come back, live with my grandparents. But Gramp got sick, and Mom said I couldn’t.” Her gray-blue eyes, with flecks of gold, revealed a sadness that equaled his own. “My mother got on my case, said I had to adjust to my new life, meet new people.”
Trish turned away and pressed her face into her knees. “I did. Had a boyfriend, and he...well, he had a fit when he saw I was emailing you.” Her expression hardened. “It was ten years ago, Craig. Life goes on. Yours certainly did.”
She moved away and started for the edge of the roof when Craig grabbed her arm.
“Wait. I’ll go first,” he said and maneuvered around her.
“You plan to catch me if I fall?”
“No. Figure I’d have a better chance to get down if I’m not hampered by all your blood and guts covering the ladder.” He reached the first rung, swung his leg around and started down. “Be careful, now.” When she didn’t respond, he stopped, his head even with the edge of the roof. “I mean it, Trish.”
“Okay. I’ll be careful. You plan to move so I can come down?” He nodded and started his descent. A few moments later, when Trish reached the bottom rung, Craig trapped her against the ladder.
“Don’t you go up there again.”
Trish turned so they faced each other only inches apart. “Listen, mister. This is my house, and I plan to check out any and all repairs. How else can I know everything is done correctly?”
Craig held up his iPhone. “Pictures.” They were close enough that he felt her warm breath against his face, caught the scent of perfume. That was something new. She never wore perfume back when they were kids. “I guarantee my work.” He paused, diminishing the space between them so they were nearly nose to nose. “Don’t go up unless someone’s here. Namely me. You understand?”
“All right, already.” She stepped onto the ground. “When did you get so bossy?”
Trish’s cheeks were bright pink in the cold. Why didn’t he kiss her while he had the chance? Every part of his being wanted to. But...the moment passed and sanity returned. They weren’t kids anymore. She was spoken for, committed to someone else. So was he. There would never be any Trish and Craig together.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_a4fbb9bc-71b8-547e-a19a-a00d0fbf443b)
AN HOUR LATER Trish came out of her house to discover Craig on the roof again, this time with a crew of two men she didn’t recognize. He came down the ladder and walked over to her. “There are one or two more places that need repair, but I checked with Max. Moody’s Lumber replaced the roof about ten years ago. You should get at least ten more, providing you’re not hit by another wicked storm. We’ll do that one side so you won’t be able to see any difference with the older shingles.”
“Thank you,” Trish said. “Anyone with fewer scruples could have insisted I needed the whole roof replaced. Can I get you anything? Lunches for you and your men?”
“That’s a nice thought, but we’ve already made plans with some other guys from the lumber company. We meet at Drexel’s Deli whenever we’re working. You’re welcome to join us.”
A voice from on high said, “Yeah, join us. We could really use someone with a little more class.”
Craig glanced up before turning back to her with a chuckle. “Ignore Ray. He’s the only low-class jerk in the group.”
“I heard that,” the man shouted, “and he’s right!”
“Thanks for the invite, but I bought some groceries yesterday. Another time,” she said to the men on the roof. Smiling, she turned to Craig. “If I’m not needed here, I’ll head into town.”
Craig started for his van, which was blocking her Toyota. “I’ll get this out of your way.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m going to walk. I’d like to check out several places, and I don’t need my car.”
“Okay. We should have all the roof repairs completed this afternoon, and I’ll finish the prospectus tomorrow morning for the other projects we discussed.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Trish started down the street at a brisk walk, listening to the rat-tat-tat of hammers ringing their song throughout the neighborhood. Once she and Craig went over the repairs, she could prioritize, budget her money and get the most for her dollar. In the meantime, Trish planned to check out Henry’s Antiques and show him the pictures she’d taken.
The temperature had become a little nippy, and she double-wrapped her green scarf around her neck. The sound of leaves crunching under her sneakers gave her the true feeling of fall. Some chestnuts had fallen, and she picked them up along with a perfect red maple leaf that had escaped the street sweepers. She twirled the stem and stopped in front of the house once owned by Craig’s family.
Several people were outside raking the leaves. They turned to wave to her. “Hello,” she called out. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Before you know it we’ll have snow.”
How sad for Craig to lose his father and then his home. Yet the joy that lit Craig’s features when he mentioned Noah warmed her heart. What would it be like to have a sibling that young? Craig and Trish had often regretted being the only children in their families. Now Craig had one up on her. The thought brought a smile, and she continued to Henry’s.
Center Street, in the older part of town, had turned into a mixture of commercial and residential buildings with several businesses in some of the older homes. One magnificent brick estate, built more than a hundred years ago, posted a doctor’s sign in front. Across the street, Gram’s lawyer had taken residence. Trish had spent the day there when all her grandmother’s possessions were transferred.
The fire department sat on a corner with Moody’s Lumber Company farther down the block. A portion of the grammar school Trish and Craig had walked to could be glimpsed behind the pharmacy, where one could still sit at the counter and order a sundae.
She stopped in front of Henry’s Antiques. At one time a five-and-dime, the shop had remained unoccupied until Henry moved in and removed the sign. Thanks to the dark green trimming, the dusky red building had a Christmas look. Trish glanced at some of the items displayed in the crowded windows before stepping into the store. An armoire in pale blue with a floral design painted on the large doors looked elegant and expensive. Very similar to her grandmother’s. Would Henry want her grandmother’s things in this shop? Determined to find out, Trish headed for the counter.
“Hello,” a man called. Although out of sight, he continued to talk. “Look around. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Trish waited by a tall golden dresser, something with a Chinese influence and definitely pricey. The other items arranged around the room had a classiness beyond her grandmother’s dusty collection. She turned when a thin man with gray hair and a matching goatee approached. “How may I help you?” Definitely a different voice from the one that had invited her in.
“Henry?”
“One of them. I’m Stanley Henry.” He turned and motioned to the younger man with similar features coming from the back. “This is my nephew Dave. And you are...?”
“Trish Lowery.” She expected some recognition of her last name. After all, her family had lived in the town for nearly one hundred years. Nothing.
“Were you looking for something specific?” Stanley asked.
“No. I’m interested in selling some of my grandmother’s antiques. I have pictures, if you’d like to see them.”
Dave Henry, who had a pleasant smile and blond hair, came over. “Lowery, you say. As in Helen Lowery?”
Stanley looked at his nephew with a quizzical expression. “Of course, Helen Lowery, from one of the founding families, the lady who recently died?” He turned back to Trish and approached, his hand extended. “Our condolences. And you have something to show us?”
With his demeanor becoming more gracious, Stanley gripped her hand. Trish suddenly felt like a field mouse trapped by a marauding hawk. She pulled free. “Um, I have a question. Do you purchase antiques outright to sell in your store?”
Stanley sighed. “Unfortunately, we can’t. Not enough space.” He smiled, helping to displace the hawk image. “Most of the items here,” he said, waving his hand around the shop, “are on consignment. I run another store in Manhattan, and we also advertise on the internet. I’m sure we can give your grandmother’s items a proper showplace and get you the best possible price.”
Trish held out her cell phone, displaying the picture of her grandmother’s bedroom furniture. Stanley took her phone as Dave came over to join his uncle. “We really need to see your treasures in person. May we make an appointment?”
Trish pulled her phone back. “Of course.”
“Okay if I handle this?” Dave asked. He nodded toward his uncle before turning back to Trish. “When are you available?”
Trish appreciated Dave taking over the conversation. “Anytime today. The sooner the better. I have a limited time here, and I need this resolved before I leave.”
“Would this afternoon be appropriate? At two? I know the address.” He turned to his uncle. “If you wouldn’t mind watching the store for me?”
With a nod, Trish thanked them and headed for the door, followed closely by Dave. After opening the door for her, he said, “I’m sure your grandmother has lovely items, and we’ll be able to work out some satisfactory plans for them.” He offered his hand. “Very nice meeting you, Ms. Lowery.”
Just as she exited, a noisy blast echoed through the town—one, two, three times—and Trish stumbled. Dave grabbed her arm and steadied her.
“That darn fire horn.” He glanced down the street. “Better watch it. Any moment, we’ll have volunteers speeding toward the firehouse.” He pointed to the brick building across the street and pulled her away from the sidewalk’s edge. “Here they come now.”
Trish stood there watching as one vehicle after another came down the road with lights flashing and pulled into the firehouse’s parking lot. Was that Moody’s truck? The front was filled with several men...men who’d been on her roof. How could they appear so quickly? The horn had just sounded.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping away from Dave’s grasp. She headed down the street at a near run.
When she reached her house, she saw Craig taking down the ladder. “What happened?” How would anything get finished if they took off anytime the fire horn blew?
“Most of my crew are volunteers.” He placed the ladder on the ground and headed for his van. “Including me.” Trish followed him to the driver’s side. Was he about to take off, too? She grabbed the sleeve of the OSHA green shirt he had pulled over his sweater.
“When will you be back?”
Craig got into the cab, holding on to the door. He leaned over toward her. “When the fire’s out.” She stepped away as he slammed the door and backed out of the driveway, his headlights flashing.
“You okay?”
Trish turned to see Dave Henry standing there on the sidewalk. “Did you think your house was on fire?” he asked as he approached. “You took off looking very upset.”
“I saw Moody’s truck with all the men who had been on my roof. They didn’t finish.”
“They’ll be back.” He glanced at the house and rubbed his arms. “I didn’t take a jacket. Didn’t realize how cold it had gotten.”
Small towns. She had forgotten how familiar people were with each other, how concerned they were for each other’s welfare. She needed to remember that. “Would you care to come in, Mr. Henry? I can offer you some coffee.”
“That sounds wonderful, and please call me Dave. Whenever anyone calls me Mr. Henry, I’m expecting to see my uncle behind me.” He followed her into the house, pausing several times to look around the vestibule before they reached the kitchen.
“Sorry, the heat isn’t up to par. I plan to have Craig look into it when he gets back.” She handed him a cup of coffee from the electric percolator she had left on. She pushed over the cream and sugar. “This should help to warm you.”
Dave stopped rubbing his hands together and reached for the mug without adding any condiments. He held it several moments before taking a sip. “Oh, this hits the spot. So, are you planning to live here? It’s a beautiful house.”
“No. My fiancé and I want to sell it. In the meantime, Craig is fixing whatever needs repairs.”
“Craig Cadman, the handyman who drove off to the fire?” Dave waved a hand in the direction Craig had taken. “I know him. Does fantastic work, and his mother has refinished several antique dressers for us. You’re not the girl he’s been dating, are you? I’d heard he was dating, but I didn’t hear that he’d gotten engaged.”
Trish couldn’t help but chuckle. “No. We’re old friends, but he’s dating someone else.” She held the mug to her lips and looked over the rim at Dave. His blond hair was a little mussed, probably windblown from following her. Otherwise he was as neat as his uncle, although not as intimidating.
“Would you care to look at the antiques while you’re here?” She put her mug down. It would be wonderful to get this chore taken care of so she’d know what other items could be donated to the church.
Dave nodded. “That would be great.” He walked to her counter. “I’ve been checking out these dishes.” After picking one up and looking at the back, he turned to her with an expectant smile. “Any chance you want to get rid of these?”
Trish joined him. “It’s a complete set, with several of the larger pieces in the china cabinet.” Her finger traced the delicate cream-and-gold edge with its tiny pink and yellow roses and some miniature blue flower that looked like a forget-me-not. It had always been her favorite. When she and Harrison had looked at china, though, they’d gone for a more modern geometric pattern. No sense in having two full sets of dishes. “Sure. I’m interested in selling it.”
“Okay if I run back and get a few things? I’ll need to take my own pictures, and frankly, this place isn’t much warmer than the outside. The only thing you’re missing is the arctic breeze.” He gave her a heartfelt smile while he continued to rub his hands.
“Why don’t I drive you?” Since all the work vehicles had gone, she could easily get to her car.
“That would be great.”
They headed out the front door just as Craig pulled in beside her car. When he got out of his van, Trish asked, “You put the fire out already?”
“Nope. I got there too late. The truck had already left.” He stared a moment before extending his hand. “Nice to see you again, Dave. Hope you can give Trish some great deals.”
“Take care of her heat, will you? I’ve got to get back to my place to warm up.”
Craig’s eyebrow went up, and he looked at Trish. “Heat?”
“I forgot to mention, I couldn’t get the furnace to work. The key’s under the mat, and we’ll be back in a little while.”
Once she had the car started, Dave got in on the passenger side. “You have heat in this?” he asked, blowing into his hands as he rubbed them together.
“Yes. You’ll be toasty by the time we reach your shop.”
* * *
CRAIG RETRIEVED THE old-fashioned three-inch key and headed for the basement to check the furnace, an oil burner probably installed a good fifty years ago. No wonder it wasn’t providing any heat. No fuel. When was the last time they had a shipment? He went upstairs, sat on one of the kitchen chairs and dialed the local oil company most people used in the area.
“Hey, Marty,” Craig said. They had been classmates, and Craig graduated a year before Marty did. “When was the last time you delivered to Mrs. Lowery?”
“You mean before she died?”
