had to be because they loved each other and wanted to make it work.
“Emma,” he began, “maybe we don’t need to belabor the fact that we’re not together right now. It’s enough that we know where we stand. My father’s not well and...”
“He’ll be okay, Darcy.”
“Will he? I’ve read terrible stories...” He trailed off, unable to speak his fears.
But Emma knew. She didn’t hesitate but pulled him into a warm embrace. As a nurse she believed in the power of medicine to heal the body. As a woman she knew the power of a hug to heal the soul. For long minutes she held Darcy close, her face pressed to his chest over his heart. Gradually she felt him relax and the tension flow out of him.
She eased away. “He might get worse before he gets better. But he’s strong. You should hope for the best. I’ll go with you when you visit him in the hospital.”
Darcy’s fingers curled around hers and brought them to his lips. “Thank you.”
She looked into his eyes and forgot everything else for a moment—even the baby.
Then Billy made a noise, and her attention landed on the one thing that both brought her and Darcy together, and drove a wedge between them. In spite of the gains they’d made in repairing their relationship, they weren’t together again. She had to remember that so she wouldn’t feel bad when it came time to leave him.
And that time was coming very soon.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GARY, THE BUILDING contractor Darcy had asked to give a quotation on renovations, arrived at 10:00 a.m. the next morning. A wiry man wearing light brown overalls, he polished his smudged glasses on the hem of his shirt and leaned across the bar to examine the plans.
“These were drawn up before the apartment was built upstairs.” Darcy unrolled the drawings of that addition and they considered the two sets of plans side by side.
“The garden room is going to completely change the character of the pub,” Gary pointed out.
“That’s the whole idea.”
Gary straightened and glanced around the pub, at the battered chairs, the bric-a-brac, the pictures on the wall. “I used to come in here when I was an apprentice, before I moved to Mornington.”
“My dad owned it then. Roy Lewis.”
“That’s right. How’s he doing?”
“Okay, I guess. He just had a hip replacement.” Darcy didn’t want to go into details. Despite Emma’s assurances, his concern for his father hadn’t abated. “The question is, is the garden room possible?”
Gary grinned, hands on his hips. “Anything’s possible if your pockets are deep enough.”
“What if I did it in stages?” Darcy asked, thinking of Emma’s suggestion. “Do the cosmetic changes, maybe put in the kitchen this year and save the garden room for next year. Does that make sense or not?”
“Not really. You’d be ripping out nearly new carpeting and paintwork. Waste of time and money.”
“That’s what I thought. So I pretty much have to do it all at once.”
“Unless you didn’t include the garden room. If it’s light you’re after, you could throw in bigger windows, a few skylights. It would be a lot cheaper.”
“No, if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right.” The plans had taken hold of his imagination. It wasn’t about beating Wayne and his wine bar anymore, it was about fulfilling the original dream of the pub’s designer. When Darcy was finished, the building would be a real landmark.
They talked a little more about the specifics of the garden room. Darcy had a couple of changes he wanted to make to the bar, too, to make it more efficient. Gary promised him a detailed quote in a couple of days and rolled up his copy of the plans.
Darcy walked him out to the parking lot. “If you were to get the job, how soon could you start?”
Gary got out his smart phone and scrolled through the calendar. “If I juggle a couple of things, I could get underway before Christmas, get the bulk of it done. You’ll be looking at, say, end of February for completion.”
That was faster than Darcy had expected. The pub would have limited seating over the lucrative Christmas season but having the garden room open before the end of summer would be worth it. “Sounds good. Thanks for coming by. I’ll be in touch by Friday.”
That night Darcy took a rare evening off from the pub. It felt strange to be upstairs while customers were downstairs, but Kirsty and Brad were both working and now