“Cooper is at my house, and she mentioned you’re painting today.”
“That’s true.”
“And that she was supposed to help you this afternoon?”
“Yes.” Jewel nodded.
“Well, Anna was begging her to go with her to the swimming hole with some friends.” He shrugged. “So I thought I could substitute.” He swiped a paintbrush through the air like Zorro. “I’m not half bad as a painter.”
“I would never dream of refusing free help.” She grinned, then lowered her voice. “But I’ll warn you, my dad is painting back there. And, well, you know how he can be.”
Miguel nodded somberly. “I know. But I thought if I was helping, maybe it might get through to him that I’m not the enemy.”
She thought about Dad’s harsh words in the barn this morning but simply shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.” She pointed to the section on the other side of the front door for him to start on. “I hope this doesn’t backfire,” she said quietly. “Please, forgive us if it does.”
He looked reassuringly into her eyes. “No problem.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly worried that her dad might pop out and sling a bucket of paint at Miguel’s head. But instead of fireworks, like she was prepared for, they both just painted companionably side by side, with classical music playing soothingly. She would’ve enjoyed making small talk with Miguel, or even offering some kind of apology for the way theirconversation had digressed at the barbecue, but she didn’t want to risk being overheard by Dad.
Besides, she reminded herself as she moved the ladder to the corner of the house, Miguel must not be holding any grudges if he wanted to come help today. Especially at the risk of being greeted with a shotgun by her unpredictable father. Or more realistically, a crowbar or paintbrush. At least she’d hidden the crowbar. She peeked around the side of the house to see her paint-speckled dad contentedly sitting in the lawn chair, staring up at the sky and peacefully sipping water. “Good for you, Dad,” she called out with a smile and a wave. He tipped his head with a big grin. A good sign that all was well. At least for the moment. And that was good enough.
24
Jewel
The house was nearly painted and electric and water hookups completed by the time Aaron’s construction crew showed up, followed by Aaron in his big black pickup. To Jewel’s delight, Aaron had the shutters and flower boxes she’d requested in the back of his rig. “And I had my guy stain them for you too.” Aaron held up a reddish-brown shutter. “You said mahogany, right?”
“They’re perfect,” she exclaimed. “Thanks so much.”
“If you like, I’ll put them up for you,” he offered.
“That’d be fabulous.” She smiled.
“And the boys should finish up with your deck and awning by the end of the day.”
“I’ve already been putting things inside,” she said. “But I can use the back door to go in and out while they’re working in front.” She pointed to the rear of the house. “And my dad is working back there, finishing up painting.”
His brows arched. “He’s able to paint?”
“Well, he’s slow ... and I have to touch-up after him. But he’s loved doing it, and it’s kept him busy.” She didn’t mention how she’d had to stop him from attempting to go inside with a can of exterior paint. After that, she’d kept the doors locked.
Aaron shook his head. “Must be a challenge, eh? Watching out for a crazy guy.”
“We don’t use that word around here,” she told him.Not out loud anyway, she thought since she sometimes said that word in her head. Like when he’d “rearranged” the house-painting tools yesterday. She’d been ready to get an early start only to find everything gone. Thanks to a drippy trail of green paint, she’d soon discovered that Dad had painstakingly moved everything into her studio area in the barn, where he’d “neatly” stacked it all on her worktable.
She understood how he thought he was helping, but it was hard not to feel irritated by his “craziness.” Thankfully, she’d managed to hold her tongue and simply asked him to help her take it back outside in order to finish up their project. She’d made it seem like he was helping, and he was none the wiser.
As she walked around the exterior of the house with Aaron, going over the last details and making sure they were on the same page, he stopped. His eyes were on her dad, who was painting around the water spigot.
“Hey, old man,” Aaron said in a patronizing tone, “whatcha doing?”
Her dad looked up at him with a puzzled expression, then he grunted. “I’m painting. Can’t you see?”
Aaron chuckled. “Yeah, I see that. But you don’t need to paint that spigot.”
“Spigot?” He frowned. “It’s paint.”
Aaron laughed. “I know it’s a spigot, but it’s galvanized and doesn’t need to be painted. In fact, paint might make it hard to turn.”
