Mom leaned so far forward he expected her to tumble off her seat. Her purple-rimmed glasses slid clear to the end of her nose before she caught them. “Why Ryder Grant, I do believe you’resmiling.”
“Don’t get too used to it.”
“I should take a picture.”
Ryder turned his back as she pointed her cell phone at him. He regretted the day he showed her how to snap pictures with it. Never occurred to him it could be used as a weapon. “Put that thing away,” he grumbled.
After removing the warped boards, Ryder noticed the rotted supports. Fishing was definitely out of the question today.
Mom hovered from the deck. “I was afraid of that. Maybe you could teach me to use some of those power tools on one of your days off.” She grinned. The thrill in her eyes made Ryder uneasy.
He wiped away a bead of sweat with the back of his hand. “Notgoing to happen.”
“Oh, come on.” Mom leaned an elbow on the railing. “A little mother-son bonding never hurt anyone.”
“You with a circular saw?” Ryder shook his head. “I don’t need a heart attack, Mom.” She was as independent as they came, but Dad had always handled these types of projects. After he passed, the brothers split the honey-do list between them. But then Denver joined the service and Ryder stayed behind. He’d been on top of everything, too—until these past several months.Since the wedding that never happened.
“You thought about getting a dog?”
Ryder nearly dropped his water bottle, catching it inches before it spilled against the exposed step supports. “A dog?”
“Why not? They’re great companions.”
“You don’t have a dog.”
“I’m never home,” Mom argued.
“Me, either.”
“You could take the right dogwithyou. Wouldn’t the kids love that?”
Ryder shook his head, stopping while he was ahead. He supposed the push for a dog was better than her nagging him about getting back out there in the dating world again. Something he had no immediate, or distant, plans to do.
“Get me a list of what you want done,” Ryder deflected. He liked being alone, not being responsible for taking care of another’s every need. Being alone meant no one could hurt him. A dog could run off as easily as a woman. “I need to run down to Davies’ for some more two-by-fours.”
Ryder’s phone buzzed half a second before Mom was through the sliding-glass door. Thirsty enough not to care, he forced another swig of fruity water down before he checked the text.
Denver: I want proof of life. Did you mist Oscar today?
Ryder: Only you would name a houseplant.
Denver: You’re evading my question.
Ryder: At Mom’s. Headed to your place next.
Denver: Remember,mistnot water.
Ryder rolled his eyes. Oddly, he missed his brother being in town. They were as different as oil and water—case in point, Denver owned some frilly fern that required daily misting. Still, he enjoyed riling Denver up about his mystery novels and quirky writing habits. Maybe he’d never be able to put it in words, but he was proud of Denver.
Denver: I want proof.
Denver: Please.
Ryder: Calm down, Romeo. I’ll get you a photo.
“There’re a few things on here,” Mom said as she slid the deck door closed. The narrow blue paper in her hand fluttered in the breeze. “You don’t have to get them all done today. How many days did you take off anyway?”
“About a week.” Ryder reached for the double-sided list, skimming it quickly.Kitchen cabinet latch, wood shed door lock, clean gutters, pressure wash garage. Most of the items Ryder could knock out before mid-afternoon if he got right to work. Fixing the retaining wall would require recruiting help.
