“How’s Olive these days?” Gus asks.
“Growing like a weed,” Liam says, lifting a large toolbox out of the truck bed. “And yours? Keeping out of trouble?”
“I wish they’d get in trouble. At least they’d have a spark of life in ’em,” he says with a disgusted shake of his head. “June has spoiled them rotten. I doubt any of them’ll ever get off my couch.”
Turning to me, Gus says, “The youngest is twenty-one and they’re all still at home.”
Liam grins. “Well, there’s always hope.”
“Speaking of hope,” Gus says, pointing at me with one thumb, “if you’ve got any designs on this one, you might as well forget it because she’s not in the market for a fella, especially not you.”
Oh, for God’s sake. “Nope, that is not what I said. It’s not you, Liam. I’m simply not looking.”
Liam gives me a serious nod, but his eyes are dancing with amusement. “Good to know. We’ll keep it strictly professional, then.”
“Yes, we will. Shall we get started?” I ask, hoping Gus will take the hint.
Thankfully, he does. “I best be going. There’s a new couple up by Crocus Bay who’ve been hounding me to get out to their place. I can still make it if I hurry.”
“Well, since it’s only an hour’s drive, and it’s eleven in the morning, I’d guess you might have a shot at making it before supper,” Liam says. “Unless you spot someone you know on the way.”
Gus ignores the not-so-subtle dig and holds out his right hand to me. “It’s a pleasure to know you, Abigail.”
Shaking his hand, I lie, “You too.”
He lowers his voice, but I’m sure Liam can hear him since he’s basically standing right beside Gus. “Nice job, by the way.”
Against my better judgment, I ask, “With what?”
“Playing it cool. There’s nothing men like more than somethin’ they can’t have,” he says with a wink.
Liam politely ignores the exchange and busies himself putting on his toolbelt. When Gus has finally climbed inside his van and shut the door, Liam looks up at me.
“Listen, about all that…” I say.
Liam holds up one hand. “No need to explain. It’s a small town full of people with not enough to do. They’ve been trying to find me a wife for years and they’re not about to stop now.”
“Okay, good. Well…not good. They should leave you alone. If you’re not interested in a relationship, no one should push you into one.” I’m rambling now. Dammit. “What I mean is, I’m glad you’re aware that I’m not the one trying to…I’m not in the market for a…” I gesture in the air with both index fingers making little circles that apparently mean relationship. Is it hot out here? It feels hot out here. My entire body is suddenly clammy.
“Relax, Abby,” Liam says with a low chuckle. “I get it. Why don’t we start by getting those boards off the windows so we can have a good look at everything?"
I let out a sigh of relief, my shoulders dropping. “Perfect.”
It takes us close to thirty minutes to take the boards off the windows. But now that they’re off, I kind of wish they were back on because this place is so much dirtier than I thought. My muscles grow sore at the mere thought of cleaning every inch of the house. I really am going to have to stock up on Bengay.
While Liam is upstairs examining the bathroom and windows and whatever else contractors look at, I clean out the kitchen sink, then fill it with water and some lemon-scented discount cleaner so I can get started on the cupboards. The sounds of Liam moving around upstairs above the kitchen bring a tense vigor to my scrubbing. I’m filled with dread about what he’ll find up there. And down here, for that matter. And outside…
Finally, I hear Liam’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. He finds me with my head in the corner cupboard.
“Well, it’s not as bad as I thought, but you’d be smart to replace the insulation in the attic before winter.”
“Okay.” I don’t even want to think about what that’ll cost. “How about the plumbing?”
“So far, I can’t see any sign of leaks, but you’re going to need a new toilet up there. New taps for the sink and tub. I’ll keep going through the house, then let’s have a chat about what needs doing and what you’re wanting to change just for the look of it.”
By the time he’s done, the phrase, ‘you’re going to need a new...’ brings a fresh wave of nausea. I knew it might be bad, but the truth is, when I woke this morning, a part of me was clinging to the hope that the house would just need a little elbow grease and some WD-40. Now, that hope has sailed off into the sunset, and reality is setting in. The gorgeous hardwood hiding under the carpets hasn’t come to fruition. Instead, it’s a slightly rotted subfloor, which of course means I’ll ‘need a new one.’
We move to the front yard so Liam can get the ladder from his truck and inspect the roof. On his way back toward the house, he says, “I see you’ve got a U-Haul to unload. If you like, I can round up a couple of fellas. We’ll get it done in no time.”
