Forget Me Not

When Craig stepped inside the office, his mother was looking over some papers with Maxwell Moody, the owner of the lumber company. Craig’s little brother, Noah, was sitting in her lap.

“How did it go, Butch?” she asked. “Trish give you the job?” Besides being a wife and mother, Rachel Cadman had served as secretary and journeyman to his father over the years. In many ways she’d provided the stability that kept the business from faltering when her husband became ill and died. Rachel also worked for Maxwell, who provided the crew that assisted Craig in his repairs. He looked up as Craig advanced. They acknowledged each other with a nod.

“Butchy,” Noah shouted. A moment later, he came around the desk and propelled himself into Craig’s arms.

Craig attempted to balance himself while the boy squirmed. “Noah. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” The boy placed a stranglehold around Craig’s neck.

“Teachers’ meetings.” Rachel came around the desk and took a reluctant Noah from Craig’s arms.

“I want to show him the hat I made for Thanksgiving,” Noah said, still reaching out to Craig.

“It’s at home. He’ll have to wait and see it when we celebrate with the big turkey dinner.” Noah pursed his lips and gave her his grumpy face. “How about you build a house? Your brother and I need to talk.” She placed the boy on the floor and watched him run to the box of wood pieces.

“I told her to call me Craig.” His mother raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips but didn’t add anything. “I want her to think of me as a grown-up, not the little kid she babysat.”

Rachel pushed several strands of light brown hair behind her ear. Sometime during the past six months, she’d started dyeing away the gray. “I know.” Rachel sighed. “It’s just...”

“I understand it’s hard, Mom, but if she calls...”

“When she calls. Trish hired you, didn’t she?”

Craig gave his mother a peck on her cheek. “I think we’re in once I finish some estimates. I’m sure the roof needs to be repaired. And the bathrooms are way out of date.” He took out his iPad and showed her the pictures he’d taken. Maxwell strained his neck so he could see, as well.

Noah came over with several pieces of two-by-four and tried to look at the pictures. Rachel held the iPad so he could see, too, and flipped slowly through the album. She stopped. “What’s this?”

Craig leaned over. “Oh, that’s her old secretary. She’s getting rid of everything and I thought... I’m going to offer her something, maybe deduct it from the cost of the repairs.”

He took the iPad from her then. He’d forgotten he’d snapped Trish’s picture and didn’t want his mother asking questions about it.

With a shrug, Rachel went back to her desk. “What we really need is money,” she said, rubbing the tips of her fingers and thumb together. “Antiques may be nice, but you can’t eat them.”

Craig nodded. “It’s just...”

“I know. You want something for the house you’ll build for you and Cyndi,” Maxwell said, assuming Craig’s relationship had gotten that far. Craig didn’t bother to correct him. There was no chance of that, but he knew most people seeing him and Cyndi together would come to the same conclusion.

Cyndi was an enigma. He never knew what to expect. One minute she’d throw herself at him, kissing him to distraction, and the next she’d be flirting with someone else.

They’d grown up just a few houses from each other and often played together with Trish and other kids in the neighborhood, usually at Trish’s grandmother’s. He thought of Cyndi as a butterfly that flitted here and there and didn’t offer any kind of permanence. He still enjoyed her company, but he wasn’t interested in marriage to Cyndi or anyone else.

She had come up to him at Moody’s, having returned to live with her parents after a divorce. They’d talked a bit and caught up, and then she asked him out. The most popular girl in high school, head cheerleader, prom queen, and she asked him. Back in his nerdy days, she’d forgotten he existed.

Maxwell stood and picked up his empty coffee cup. “Don’t go overboard with an offer on that antique. The woman probably inherited a good deal from her grandmother, and you don’t have to be overly generous.”

Craig nodded but didn’t comment. Price wasn’t the issue in this instance. “I’ll cover her roof with a tarp tomorrow and decide if we’ll need to replace it.”

“Good. The crew finished their last job early. It will be nice to get them working on something other than inventory and sweeping floors.” Once he went through the connecting door to his own office, Maxwell turned and raised his cup toward Craig. “Sorry, kid, but you’ll always be Butch to me, just like Craig will always be your father.” He sighed and shook his head. “But...your father would probably approve if you took his name, so I’ll give it a try.”

Noah came over with his selection of wood. “Wanna help me build something?”

Craig bent down to his level and brushed his brother’s hair with his fingers, something he remembered their father doing. Unfortunately, Noah probably didn’t even remember their father. An unplanned child so late in life had come with joy, but also unexpected problems when his father died. Craig stood and took the piece of wood, examining it closely. “Any other pieces this size? We’ll need several.”

Noah did an about-face and ran back to the large crate containing all the scraps. He looked over his shoulder, a smile lighting his face. “Yep, we got enough to build a house.”

And so it began. Every day he spent time with Noah, teaching his brother the way his father had taught him—how to hold the hammer, center the nail and hit it without destroying his fingers. But Craig couldn’t help feeling that their father should be doing this. And maybe his dad’s time wouldn’t have been cut short if he hadn’t had to deal with all the ramifications of a new child.

* * *

“HI, MOM,” TRISH said when she finally reached her mother. “How are you enjoying your trip?” Her parents had bought an RV and were traveling the Southwest after her father’s early retirement.

“Unbelievable. We just left the Grand Canyon, and we’re heading south to some warmer weather. Actually had a little snow. How’s it back East?”

“Indian summer. Everything’s settled with Gram’s house, so I moved in to start fixing it. You sure you don’t want anything? Furniture? Antiques?”

“Absolutely not. We were delighted that she left everything to you, and we don’t want anything to tie us down. Right, Tom?” A deeper voice made an acknowledgment before her mother continued. “Your father and I plan to see the world before old age robs us of our faculties.”

Trish chuckled. “My goodness, Mom, you haven’t even cashed your first Social Security check yet.”

After a long pause, her mother asked, “So, what’s new with Harrison? Has he seen Gram’s house?” Harrison was one of the few men she had dated who managed to impress them.

“No. I’ve decided to sell it.”

Her mother took a quick, deep breath. “Really? But I thought...”

“We’re going to use the money for something closer to our work in the city.”

“And can he come up with an amount equal to what you’ll be contributing?”

Trish resented her mother’s tone. “Of course. He owns a condo that he plans to sell, and it more than equals what Gram left me.”

“I only meant that your grandmother gave everything to you because she thought you would appreciate it and want to live there.”

With a sigh, Trish said, “I do appreciate it. And like you and Dad, I need to live my life the way I see fit. I never gave you any flak over you selling everything and getting that trailer.”

“It’s an RV, dear, a recreational vehicle, and you’d better not give us any flak, or we won’t drive up to your wedding. When is it, anyway?”

Since she and Harrison hadn’t settled on a specific date, Trish hesitated. “Sometime after the house is sold.”

“Well, make sure your plans are for the spring. Your father and I don’t like to travel in the snow.”

Trish chuckled. “I’ll be sure to take that into consideration.”

For a moment, her mother didn’t respond. “I suppose you connected with Butch again.”

She sounded almost reluctant to mention him. At one point, Trish’s parents and Craig’s had been friends, but for reasons Trish had never understood, they weren’t speaking to each other by the time her family moved to Virginia. “He goes by Craig now. His father passed away a few years ago, and he’s taken over the business. I asked him for some estimates on the repairs that need to be done here.”

“And that’s it? He’s not still madly in love with you?”

“He has a girlfriend, Mom.” For a moment, Trish wondered why that thought filled her with an unexpected sadness. She shook off her reaction. Silly. They’d both moved past childish crushes and had new directions in their lives.

* * *

SETTLING ON ONE of the kitchen chairs, Trish reached for a cup of coffee. She’d risen to the ringing of her cell phone before seven. The birds hadn’t even been up.

She pulled her blue bathrobe tighter. Maybe she should have Craig check the heating system. The temperatures outside were close to freezing despite the sunny skies, and the inside didn’t seem much warmer.

“This is your inheritance?” Harrison had asked, referring to the picture Trish had sent on her iPhone.

“Yes!” She hoped the joy in her voice made an impression over the phone. “I can’t wait till you get here to see it. So many memories. I’ve started cleaning and hope to have it livable while I’m here.”

“You still planning to take off from work for a whole month? Won’t that jeopardize your job?” Had Harrison started the day on a sour note? He sounded critical. This was not exactly the bright, sunny good cheer she wanted in the morning.

Trish hadn’t taken a vacation in over three years. She deserved one, and it would give her a little rest before returning to her new promotion. Right now she and Harrison worked in the same department; however, once she received her promotion they’d be working down the hall from each other. And once they married, and lived in the same house, they’d be able to commute together. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be from her grandmother’s house.

Now, with matrimony on the horizon, she was considering other career moves. Harrison made enough to support them both, so eventually she could be a stay-at-home mom and take care of the many children they’d talked about having. Just thinking about it made her smile.

“I needed this chance to get away.” Not about to slog through her decision again, Trish asked, “When can you come see the place?”

Trish had wanted moral support as well as some physical labor from Harrison to get her grandmother’s house spruced up. They’d even talked about spending their vacations together to get as much completed as possible before the eventual sale.

“I’m so rushed, flying in and out to different locations in California. I can come on Sunday.” He provided a date and Trish looked it up on a calendar.

“You’ll be gone the week of Thanksgiving?”

“Right. The company wants all this training completed before Christmas. You know how people go crazy with credit-card problems before and after the holidays.” Her plan to surprise him with a turkey and all the trimmings slowly slipped away.

But no one should skip a proper Thanksgiving, and if it meant taking time away from work on her grandmother’s house, so be it. “How about we celebrate on that Sunday when you’re here? I make a mean turkey.”

“Don’t.” He hesitated. “I thought you wanted to get painting done...finish some projects on the house. I’m not doing them all by myself while you’re busy cooking.”

Trish considered this a moment and tried to control her voice, something she had plenty of practice at in her customer-service job. Keep your voice pleasant. Don’t antagonize the patrons even more. They were already stressed-out calling about problems with their credit cards.

She took a calming breath. “So you’ll be here only that one day?”

“Right.” He waited a moment longer before adding, “Sweetheart, I wasn’t going to mention it, hoped to keep it a surprise, but... I can’t stay any longer because I put in for a promotion. I’ve got reservations in Los Angeles and San Francisco for interviews. How would you like to settle in California? It’s a possibility if the interviews go well.”

Trish hesitated. California. She’d always lived on the East Coast, never even seen the West Coast state. But that certainly had exciting possibilities. For him. Why hadn’t he mentioned it before? “Let’s talk about it when you arrive.”

CHAPTER THREE

AFTER THE CALL, Trish forced herself to concentrate on anything other than her disappointment. She’d hoped to spend some time working on the house with Harrison. With so much to do on her own, she decided to tackle the furniture problem. Which items would interest an antiques salesman? She began by taking pictures to show Henry of each piece that might have value.

The large secretary drew her attention. Where had they found those secret hiding places? Had the carvings moved to create openings? Trish had made several unsuccessful attempts to push and pull the sculptured leaves and flowers when the doorbell rang.

Abandoning the secretary and its secrets, she glanced down at her attire. Still dressed in pj’s and a robe, she pulled the robe’s belt tighter before heading to the front door.

She saw Butch through the large oval window etched in a lovely art-nouveau design of flowers and ribbons.

Trish opened the door and said, “Oh, hello, Butch...” She placed a hand over her mouth. “...I mean Craig.”

“Listen,” he said, “you can call me Butch if you want. Lots of people still do.” He sounded frustrated.

“But you’d prefer Craig?”

Wearing a green ski sweater with white deer marching across his chest, he leaned against one of the posts that supported the porch roof. In his youth he’d lacked height and hadn’t participated in sports. Since his interests gravitated to books, he’d remained a thin teenager, labeled by most people as too intellectual. At some point, he’d definitely matured, having a well-developed body and... Trish gave herself a shake and forced herself to concentrate on the paint peeling on the post, and not the man resting against it.

“I’m here to check out the roof.” He pointed to an extension ladder lying parallel to the sidewalk. “Also, do you have your grandmother’s flag?” He reached up to the flag holder attached to the post before glancing back at her. “I remember her putting it out on Veterans Day, and just about everyone’s flying one. Lets people know someone’s occupying the house.”

“Of course. I’ll get it. Can you put it up while I get dressed?” Trish hurried to the closet. After retrieving the flag, she headed to the small room off the kitchen that contained a single bed. It had served so many purposes: a sewing room, a library and even an office when her grandfather was alive. When her grandmother became ill, it served as her bedroom so she wouldn’t have to climb the stairs.

Trish dressed warmly in several layers so she could go outside. In her worn jeans, red turtleneck and sweater, she headed out the front door to check on Craig. She found him on the ladder, pulling leaves out of the eaves trough.

“You’re planning to put that on your bill, aren’t you? Cleaning gutters?”

“Absolutely.” He grinned and tossed a handful of multicolored maple leaves at her, which she swatted away. “You need a free flow of water during the next rain so it doesn’t puddle on the roof. I’m coming down.”

When Craig reached the ground, he pointed to the flag. “Looks very patriotic for Veterans Day. Your gram would be proud.”

“Come in. I’ve got coffee ready. Have you finished the estimates?”

“Started but not finished, and no, thanks. I don’t need more caffeine. I told a few people about your furniture and...” He turned and extended his hand toward the truck pulling into the driveway. “They’re quite anxious to get started.” Several older men and a teenager exited the truck and came onto the porch. “This is Reverend Meyer from the Methodist church, his son and his grandson, and they’ll be happy to take anything you want to get rid of.”

Reverend Meyer grasped her hand in a firm shake. “I knew your grandmother. A wonderful woman and a pillar of the community.” With that said, he walked past her, obviously anxious to get started. And she hadn’t even determined what she wanted to give away.

Deciding certain eyesores had to go, Trish pulled the door open so they could enter. “You’ll be able to fill your truck.”

“So kind of you. We have several families who were devastated by the floods, and we can use anything you want to give us. All tax deductible, of course.” He followed her into the living room. “Just point out what we can take.”

“Everything in this room—couch, chairs, tables and lamps. Leave the secretary.” She turned to Craig. “What do you think? Anything else in here that Henry’s Antiques might have an interest in?”

Reverend Meyer stopped moving one of the chairs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you hadn’t consulted the antiques dealer yet.” He swept a hand around the room. “Just about everything here looks like something Henry might want.”

Trish hesitated, weighing the financial benefits against helping people who’d been devastated by a flood. “You take what’s in the living room. That should pretty much fill your truck, and I’ll get back to you about the rest after I’ve spoken to the antiques dealer. You can have anything else he won’t consider for his store.”

After several nods in her direction, Reverend Meyer motioned his helpers over to the sofa. “Let’s start with this.” While they worked on removing the furniture, Craig directed her to the secretary.

“I’d like to buy this once you find out the value from Henry.” When she didn’t immediately reply, he added, “You were going to sell it, weren’t you?”

Trish’s ambivalence had her wondering, not for the first time, if her decision to sell everything might be a mistake. With her fingers barely touching the wood, Trish felt a connection to her past. “It has memories. So many.” After pressing her lips together to keep from getting too sentimental, she turned to Craig. “You’re first on the list.”

He reached over and drew his finger under her eyelash, sweeping away the tear that had slipped onto her cheek. “Maybe you shouldn’t rush into anything.”

She forced a laugh and backed away. The touch was too sweet, too intimate. “I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional. I’d have no place for this desk. It’s too large.” And she doubted if Harrison would ever want anything this archaic.

Reverend Meyer came back into the room. “Okay if we take the matching chairs?”

“Of course.”

The reverend hesitated. “I don’t mean to be unappreciative, but what we could really use is a few beds. Do you have any of those? Something basic. So many people haven’t a decent place to sleep.”

“Of course. Come upstairs and I’ll show you the beds that can go.” Trish went up the large curved staircase and motioned for the men to follow.

“I’m heading for the roof,” Craig said and disappeared out the front door.

Once they reached one of the guest bedrooms, Trish pointed to the double bed. “There are linens for this. I’ll get them for you.” While the men removed the bed, she gathered sheets, pillows and several blankets from the hall closet.

When they returned, she pointed to two of the other bedrooms and had the men remove the beds. “The mattresses have seen better days, I’m sorry to say.” She followed through with the linens needed for those.

“Anything we can get is a blessing.”

They left the nightstands and dressers, saying she should find out their potential value. Her grandmother’s room she left intact for now. It contained several antique pieces, including an elegant armoire. She’d have to take a picture of that to show Henry.

She found several large plastic bags and stuffed them with usable items from the closet while the men worked. It made her feel as though she’d finally managed to make a dent in all that she had to do, and she was grateful to Craig for finding people who needed all these unwanted items. Once she was ready to leave the house, she could give up the cot in the downstairs bedroom, as well.

“That’s it for now,” the reverend said. “The truck’s full.” He handed her a list of the items he’d packed away. “You can add the values for tax purposes. The church’s logo is at the top with our phone number. Call us whenever you want another pickup.”

“Will do.” Trish shook his hand and grinned. With the beds gone, along with most of the living room furniture, she had more space to move around and see the condition of the rooms.

Craig came in just then. “You won’t need a whole new roof after all. Just a section. I can give you the estimate on that now.” He handed her a printed paper with a detailed description of all the items needed practically down to the last nail, including a meticulous drawing of the roof section in three dimensions.

Trish glanced at it before looking back at him. “How’d you do this?” Had he prepared the information before coming over here and actually looking at the problem? She hadn’t heard him drive away to go print out a report. And how did she know if it was accurate?

“I inspected the roof.”

“When?”

“A few minutes ago. While you were working with Reverend Meyer.”

“How did you do all of this?” Trish waved the sheet in front of him.

Craig’s eyebrow went up, giving him a quizzical expression. “On my computer.” He nodded toward his van. “I have everything I need in there.” He grabbed the paper from her hand. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

Trish followed him and waited while he slid the side door of the van open. “My office.” He stepped in and offered her a hand to pull her up onto the metal floor. “I took a picture, put that and all my figures in a program I’ve developed, and out comes what I’ll need to complete the project.”

“Craig Cadman, you invented this?”

He grinned. “Well, yeah, pretty much. I’ve taken courses in CAD...” When her eyebrows went up, he explained, “...computer-aided drafting/design, and created something that combines several programs. It’s patented, and a few other people have shown an interest. I sell it through my website, cadsbycadman.com.” He paused while she continued to stare.

“Show me what the roof looks like now.” She jumped out onto the driveway and waited for him. He hesitated before following her.

“Trish, I don’t think you should go up there.”

“I’ve been on that roof so many times. I used to help my grandfather hang all the Christmas decorations.”

“Yeah, when you were a kid.”

Ignoring him, she headed for the ladder at the front of the house and placed one foot on the bottom rung. Craig came up behind her and lifted her off.

His voice came out in a warm breath against her ear. “I’ll go up first, and you stay on the ladder. Don’t you dare go on the roof.” After releasing her, he nudged past and hurried up the rungs. Once he was on the roof, he waited until she came near the top rung. “Now you stay put.” He held out his hands, palms facing her. Craig turned and scrambled across the tiles toward the damaged area. When he looked back, she was right behind him. “I told you—”

“Oh, stop having a hissy fit. I’m not afraid of heights.”

Craig sat on his haunches and chuckled. “I should have remembered you always have to do everything your own way.” He reached out and took her hand to pull her closer before turning to indicate the section that needed repair. “It’s not too bad, and I can get it done today if you approve.”

“How did this happen?” Trish poked at several shredded shingles.

“I found bits of branches embedded. The hurricane must have torn some limbs from one of the trees and shot them against the roof.”

“Definitely start on this as soon as possible.” After taking a seat next to him, she focused on the maple trees that lined the street. All the leaves had dropped, been raked into the street and carted away. She stretched out her legs and leaned back on her elbows, duplicating Craig’s stance. “I can see all the houses from here, and you’re right. Just about everyone’s put out their flags. It reminds me of Fourth of July. Remember marching in the parades?”