and sighed. “And stainless steel. It’s perfect.” Once he’d examined the oven and then the dishwasher, reverently running his hand over the appliances, he told Tim, “I couldn’t have done a better job myself.”
Tim grinned back at him, knowing that his uncle was slightly teasing. Often, the pastor would comment that he’d been gifted with the spirit of Christ in his heart, but not the spirit of fixing the Lord’s creations. Tim had taken over being the family handyman at a very early age. His aunt Lily called him whenever she needed anything fixed around the house. Tim liked it that way, too.
His uncle had sold the house because it had too many overdue projects for the two of them to tackle. And his aunt had requested that they buy the house by the church. It would save his uncle from having to “commute,” which always made Tim smile. The “commute” from the beach to the little church on Main Street was exactly eight minutes.
“What’s next, Tim?” His uncle turned and faced the rest of the house. Tim had taken down the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. He’d also pulled up the flooring, and parts of the house still had rewiring to do. The house was a hodgepodge of projects, which was why Tim had taken off the next two weeks. He had vacation; he could use it.
“I don’t know,” Tim said, setting the Tupperware on the counter and feeling satisfied that the kitchen was done. “I figure if the kitchen is done, I can live here and do everything else in chunks.” He strode over to his uncle, who was now standing next to the brand-new floor-to-ceiling window he’d had installed last week. The window faced the ocean, providing a stunning view.
“I miss the view; I’m not going to lie. After living here for almost fifty years, it’s a lot to get used to being in town.”
The look on his uncle’s face made Tim’s heart hurt a little. But he knew the money from the house had helped with their retirement. Gingerly, he placed his hand on his uncle’s shoulder. “You can come anytime. You know that.”
“Oh, I plan to.” His uncle gave him a coy look.
Tim laughed. “Oh, I believe it.” His uncle was famous for showing up all over town when people really needed him.
For a long moment, both of them stared out at the ocean. The sky was darkening, and the waves were a bit restless.
His uncle broke the silence. “She’s coming today, isn’t she?”
Instantly, Tim knew who he was talking about: the girl he’d loved when he was just a young man. It was strange; he still experienced a storm of emotions when he thought about Kensi. That felt wrong to him.
“Uh …” There was no use trying to hide anything from his uncle. “Yep. Trey said she would be coming tonight to take care of the inn.”
“Two weeks is a long time to be away from home,” his uncle commented.
It made Tim smile. He had been a Marine for twelve years before he’d finally come back to South Port. But his uncle and aunt weren’t traveling types. “For some people.”
His uncle searched Tim’s face. When the pastor cast his gaze on a person, sometimes it didn’t feel comfortable. The man could peer into souls; he was something of a legend around these parts. “I’m glad you bought the house,” he said eventually.
“Me, too.”
“We worried about you a lot since—”
Tim turned away, not wanting to have that discussion. “It’s been two years. I’m fine.” He picked up the paintbrush and focused on the last bit he had to finish.
His uncle didn’t say anything for a time, only stared out at the view. After a while, he faced him. “I know you’re fine. And you’ve done a good job braving the storm of life. But now it might be time to leave the storm behind you.”
The words brought an image to mind, a picture that Tim’s aunt had placed in their front living room. The picture made it look like Christ was reaching into the water. He was shimmery at the top, to make it look like you were staring up at him from underwater. Like the person viewing the picture was the one in the water.
That was how he’d felt after Tina died. That was how he’d felt until Trey and Ava had shown back up in South Port a couple months ago. Thank heavens they’d never treated him like he