He looked at her and she felt heat rush up her neck and face, and thank goodness it was almost dark because now she felt like an idiot. “I miss you,” she plowed on. “There’s so many things I want to tell you, but you’re not there. When you came over that day, all I could think of was how you’d shut down, not how you were making an effort. And then it had been so long, and it felt like we could never find our way back. I made a mess of it. I’m sorry.” He hadn’t said a word and her face was burning, but what did it matter. “I know it’s too late for us, but I just wanted you to know.”
He was as silent as a stone. He probably hated her.
“So anyway…” This was excruciating but she’d done it. She’d been honest and told him how she felt. There was nothing left to say. “I’m going to get going. Thank you for agreeing to take the bees. I’ll text you and we’ll figure out—”
“Cassie.” He took a step forward. “I’ve missed you too.”
“You have?” She was finding it hard to form a coherent thought the way he was looking at her. “You’re not uh…seeing anyone?”
“You asked me that once before and I’m still not. I only ever wanted to be with you.”
“Do you still?” She hardly trusted her voice.
“What do you think?” he said quietly.
Her heart felt like it was filled with helium, like it might float right out of her chest. “Really? Do you uh…want to see my place?”
“I’d like that. Maybe I can help you get settled.”
“That would be great. But I mean…I don’t want you to think I’m asking you to be a handyman. I only want you to come if—”
He looked amused. “You think I’m offering to be a handyman?”
Her smile welled up. “What are you offering then?”
He smiled too, a slow smile that turned her insides to butter. “I don’t know. Why don’t we see where it goes.”
...
They met at the house on Sunday, the keys newly hers. A sweet Cape with a bit of a front yard and white frame dormer windows upstairs. Three bedrooms—her own, an extra one for Andrew, who would be with her at least through the fall, and a third she could turn into an office or guestroom. After so many years of apartment living, the thought of all that space made her giddy. But the backyard had sold her. French doors that spilled from the kitchen onto a flagstone patio with a tidy perennial garden. Flowering cherry trees that would bloom in the spring.
“The whole thing’s fenced,” Cassie said. “I could get a dog.”
“Charlie’s available,” Glenn said. “He’d be happy to dig up plants for you.”
“Charlie gets a bad rap.” Cassie felt a delicious lightness at having Glenn there. They hadn’t spoken about anything more than the house and small improvements she might make, but their hands brushed when she opened the French doors and his presence filled the house in a good way.
They strolled through the perennial garden, which was alive with bees. Some crawling on the tops of flowers, others lifting off like miniature cargo planes, their back legs loaded with pollen.
“Wild bees,” he said when she gave him a questioning look. “They pretty much do their own thing.”
“I don’t have any idea what all these plants are.” She touched an orange flower with a button center. “But they’re pretty.”
“That’s black-eyed Susan, and that’s sedum that the bees are all over. You’ve got some hydrangea over there, and those pink flowers are phlox. Somebody put some work into this. Are you up for gardening?”
“I think I am.” She felt a hum of contentment being here. She’d picked up deli sandwiches on the way over and they took them to the front steps, which were protected from the sun this time of day. “You got me roast beef,” he said with a laugh. “I gave up red meat.”
She looked at him incredulously. “But you’re such a carnivore.”
“I kept thinking about it. You were right.” He sheepishly accepted half her veggie wrap. “It’s not healthy and definitely not sustainable. Lilah was after me too.”
Cassie took a bite of her sandwich. “How are things with Lilah? Is she still mad you didn’t let her go to Colorado?”
“I did let her go. Not the whole summer, just a month. I never thought I’d say this, but it was good for both of us. And her mom’s stepped up, she’s better about keeping in touch now. You know what?” He grinned. “The best thing is that my daughter doesn’t hate me.”
Cassie laughed. “That’s always a plus.”
He’d polished off his half of the wrap, so she offered him what was left of hers.
