that she could afford. He had made this conciliatory move, and that counted for something. Each still had the option of saying no thanks to the other.
Hoping that she wouldn’t live to regret it, she opened the door wider and motioned him in.
The empty living area seemed to shrink the instant he stepped inside. His cuffs had been rolled back almost to his elbows. His shirttail was tucked into a pair of jeans, which, like yesterday’s, had been softened and faded from many washings. They were worn with a belt of tooled brown leather. The antiqued brass buckle had a military insignia. But he no longer had a military haircut. In back, his dark hair was long enough to brush against his collar.
Boot heels thumping on the hardwood floor, he advanced into the room and took a slow look around. “You play the piano?”
She had anticipated a comment, not a question, and it took her off guard. “No. Well, a little. I was taking lessons when—”
At her abrupt stop, he turned his head and looked at her expectantly.
Amending what she’d been about to say, she said, “I gave up music lessons when my sister and I moved away.”
“Hmm. Too bad you didn’t pick back up after you got resettled.”
“I regret now that I didn’t continue, but other things had to be given priority.”
He went over to the staircase and stepped up on the first tread with only one foot. It squeaked. So did the second step. As he backed down, he ran his palm over the bannister. “This is nice wood. Worth salvaging, I think. It could be sanded and revarnished. Maybe a lighter stain?”
She gave a noncommittal “Umm.”
Returning to the center of the room, he turned in a tight circle as he surveyed the ceiling. “The crown molding has possibilities, but I won’t know if it’s worth keeping until I get a closer look at it, and I didn’t bring a ladder today.”
“I’m not particularly attached to it.”
“What about that chandelier?” He pointed to the fixture in the dining area. “Does it have any sentimental value?”
“None.”
“Good. I’d pitch it. It’s too large for the space.”
He gave the fireplace mantel the same rubdown he’d given the bannister. Stepping back and assessing the fireplace as a whole, he said, “The brick is boring. Another material would add some character.”
He went over to the row of front windows and inspected the sills. Sliding a pocketknife from his back jeans pocket, he picked at the splintered wood with the tip of the blade. “All these window frames need to be replaced. If you go with wood again, it’s more labor intensive and therefore more expensive. Or you could go with prefab, but that still requires some carpentry. I’ll figure it both ways. How many windows in the house?”
“I’ve never had cause to count them.”
“I’ll need that number before I can give you an estimate.” He closed the knife and pushed it back into his pocket. He flipped all the light switches on the wall plate, matching them to the fixtures they controlled. “What took priority?”
“Pardon me?”
“You said you quit music lessons because other things had to be given priority. Like what?”
“Like food and shelter.”
Her curt reply brought him around to look at her. “When your dad skipped out, nobody stepped up and took you in? A relative? Foster parents?”
“No.”
“Weren’t you too young to fare for yourself?”
“I was ten, but my sister was already in her second year of college. She’d been commuting to and from Commerce, but had to drop out when she became my legal guardian.”
“Tall order for a college coed.”
“Yes.”
“She must be one tough cookie.”
Arden laughed lightly. “To say the least.”
“Always an overachiever, I guess.”
That comment took her by surprise. “You knew Lisa?”
“She was several classes ahead of me, and I was far beneath her notice, but I knew who she was. Everybody did. Hard not to know the homecoming queen.”
Arden smiled. “That was her senior year. I think everybody in town went to the parade.”
“Not me.”
“Oh?”
“No, I wasn’t into all that.”
“What about the football game when she was crowned?”
“Missed that, too.” He opened the door to the storage area beneath the stairs and poked his head inside.
“You weren’t into football, either?”
He backed out of the closet. When he went to shut the door, he tested the squealing hinges. “Love football. Playing and watching.”
“They why did you skip the homecoming game?” She shot him a teasing grin. “Couldn’t get a date?”