started toward the stairs.
This might hurt a little. Actually, this might hurt a lot. This was a Band-Aid she wasn’t ready to rip off, a wound that needed to stay covered.
She heard herself filling the silence as she pressed forward, giving herself what was quickly becoming a very tired (and annoying) pep talk: I can do hard things.
“If memory serves, my grandmother was a fan of wallpaper, so that’ll have to come down. It’s really ugly wallpaper.”
Jack laughed, following her up the stairs, and she opened the door to the room that used to be hers. She stood in the hallway while he went in and looked around.
“This room looks pretty good.” Jack pulled back the rug, which covered most of the floor. “Might not need to do much but paint in here.” He stood next to the bulletin board hanging over the bed.
“Is this you?” He pointed to a photo of Emily and her mom down at the beach. She didn’t need to get any closer to know which photo it was or from which day. A happy memory Emily had pushed out of her mind.
“Yes, a long time ago.”
Jack touched the photo, then glanced at her. “Cute.”
“There are three other bedrooms. You can look at them later—they’re all about the same as this one.” Only she didn’t know that for certain—not really. It wasn’t like she’d inspected them herself.
Dusty old memories didn’t need unearthing.
He stuck his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants with a stern nod. “Sounds good.”
As soon as he stepped back into the hallway, she closed the door behind them and exhaled. She didn’t want to think about what other memories were pinned to the bulletin board or tucked in the drawers.
She hurried back toward the stairs and started down. “Then there is some work in the yard.” That much she knew for sure.
She showed Jack the patio area, the torn screens on the porch, the rotting wood, the cracked cement. “It’s probably obvious, but I don’t know the first thing about renovating a home.”
He tucked his clipboard under his arm. “We’ll muddle through it together.”
“Yeah?” Does that mean you’ll take the job?
“I think we can handle most of what you need,” Jack said. “I can hire some local help—might take a bit of time, but there are always young guys who need work. Why don’t I put together an estimate and bring it by tomorrow?” Jack looked at her now, his eyes kind, fans of well-worn wrinkles at their corners.
“That would work,” Emily said. “I know my budget, so I’ll tell you what we can and can’t do.”
Her grandmother had sent her the information for a bank account with funds set aside for renovations—the point being to prevent the house from becoming a financial burden for Emily. She’d dipped into the account twice—once to buy her ferry ticket and once for a sandwich on her way over.
Looking at the cottage now, she wondered if she had enough money to cover the cost of the renovations. Did her grandmother know the shape this place was in?
“I’ll give you a fair price.” Jack smiled. He had a nice smile and looked nothing like an investment banker in his cargo pants, light-blue T-shirt, and work boots.
“I appreciate that.” Emily pulled her sleeves down over her hands.
Jack watched her for a few seconds, then finally looked away. “Grateful for the opportunity, Miss Ackerman.”
She gave him a nod. “I’ll look forward to your estimate.”
He pulled out a pair of sunglasses, stuck them on his face, and disappeared around the side of the house.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Jolie again: Aunt Harper just got here! GrandNan wants to know what kind of sandwiches are your favorite? She’s going to bring you one even if you can’t come to the beach.
The text was accompanied by a photo of the girl, her strawberry locks pulled up in a messy ponytail. She was making a peace sign with her partially painted fingernails and her dad was in the background, looking pensive.
Emily zoomed in on Hollis, who looked less like the baseball hero and more like a man with too much on his mind.
But still so very handsome.
She texted back: She doesn’t have to do that!
But she’s going to, so it might as well be something you like. ;)
I like everything! Turkey and cheese, ham and cheese, chicken salad. I’m not a picky eater.
Very quickly, her phone buzzed again. Dad said he’ll make you cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches.
Emily laughed out loud at