of pain. Looking up, he held John’s gaze. “You’ve been there every day for almost a week, boy.”
“Well, maybe if we’d come up with a list of things that need to be done around here, I can get everything I had to buy in one trip.”
“Told you you didn’t have to keep doing stuff around the house.”
He knew his grandfather had a lot of pride and hated there were things he could no longer do. John had been making repairs every day, each one under the guise of I’m just fixing this a bit so his grandfather wouldn’t feel as though things around the house had begun to deteriorate.
“Hmph. If you’re determined to go, don’t forget that plumber’s wrench. If I’d had that, I could’ve fixed the leak a long time ago.”
Soon, John pulled into the hardware store parking lot, having lost track of the number of times he’d been to the small store in the past week. He’d managed to replace several warped boards on the front porch, tighten the screws on numerous kitchen cabinet doors and drawers, and fix the drip in the bathroom sink. The stair railing leading to the second floor needed tightening, and as his grandfather reminded, a plumber’s wrench was needed to work underneath the sink in the kitchen.
Stepping inside the store, he offered a chin lift to Sally, the older woman sitting behind the cash register. She’d been in the same position almost every time he’d visited, finding out everything she could about him, and offering tidbits of advice.
After grabbing the tools and pieces of PVC pipe he needed, he wandered around for a few minutes, trying to think of other jobs that would need to be done so that he could go a day without coming to the store.
“It’s a mighty good thing you’re doing for your grandpa,” Sally called out. “Rupert used to come in all the time. Sometimes, I think he just wanted to chat more than actually buy something. I know he’s been mighty lonely without your grandmother, God rest her soul. A better woman I’ve never known.”
John nodded his agreement but remained silent.
“Rupert would have a fit if he knew I was saying this, but the last couple of years, I noticed his rheumatism had gotten worse. He don’t like to admit he’s got needs, but having you home to fix up the place without making him feel indebted—it’s a real gift.”
He shrugged, embarrassed at her compliments. “It’s nothing, ma’am.”
“Told you the other day to call me Sally. Everybody does.”
An unbidden grin slipped across his face. “Well, Sally, if you know my grandfather, you know he likes to look over my shoulder to make sure everything is done just the way he’d like it. Don’t suppose you have any clue as to what color he’d like the front door painted, do you?”
“Paint it red.”
His brow lowered as his chin jerked back. “Red?”
“Yep. I’m not pulling your leg. He once said he’d love to have a white house with a red front door because it would look like a lighthouse.”
John turned and headed back to the paint, stopping when he spied a woman walking down the same aisle, her attention on the paint color chips and her arms full of a variety of items. Her head was down so it was impossible to see her face; it was her outfit that grabbed his attention. A faded blue T-shirt with paint splatters was worn under an old pair of purple overalls at least two sizes too large with a rip in one knee and a swipe of white paint across the ass, distinctly looking as though she’d wiped her paint-covered fingers on the material. Her feet were encased in sneakers that at one time might’ve been white but were now covered in a combination of paint dribbles and dirt.
Her long, dark hair was pulled up haphazardly on top of her head, a bright pink clip attempting to hold the mass in place, but tendrils waved loose. As comical as her appearance was, her face in profile as she turned slightly toward him now snagged his attention. Rosy cheeks, pale complexion with a dusting of freckles. She was muttering to herself as she held up paint chips, attempting to keep the variety of items in her arms. Not close enough to understand everything she said, he managed to capture a few words.
“Too dark. Should be more green. Nope. Ooh, that one is nice.”
As he moved closer to the paint chips, she