She smiles brightly. “Perfect. It will be a change of scenery and a little romantic getaway.”
My wry smile doesn’t fade as my attention remains on the afternoon ahead.
Pretending to check the time on my watch, I tell her, “We should get going if you want to chat with the builders before they leave.”
Esme finishes with her napkin and nods. “You are totally right.”
I pay the check, and we walk down Main Street with the clouds now out. It always makes me laugh that they still havethe old parking meters. Who the hell carries around quarters these days?
Our drive back is simple and quiet. I bet that Esme is beat after last night, and well, I’m silent because I’m replaying the plan in my head.
As we drive down Everhope Road, I can see in the distance that the crew are busy packing up their truck. “Just in time,” I note.
Pulling up, I press the button to lower Esme’s window. We could park and get out of the car, but this just seems easier.
“Hey, Esme,” Steven says.
“Thanks for working what feels like around the clock. I’ll have a look later. Anything major that I should know about?”
The guy winces and does his best to avoid Esme’s face as he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, we’re going to have to rewire again, as it seems a squirrel or raccoon bit through the wire. Maybe a rat even.”
“What!” She shrieks, horrified, and even I find the thought pretty disgusting. “We have rats on this street?”
Stretching my upper body, I lean closer to speak. “Surely, you’re joking, right?”
“Could be. Either way, some animal is determined to set us back.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder. “Then we have the crew that the Tiller family hired. We have to coordinate when they are filling in cement or need to use machinery that might affect space. We’re treading along but slowly.”
Esme grumbles a sound and slouches her shoulders as she sits back and clicks open her seatbelt. “This is not what I wanted to hear.”
It’s completely what I wanted to hear.
Adds more fuel to the fire that I’m lighting today.
“Well, we’ll be back tomorrow. We’re going to start a little later since my guys worked extra today.”
Esme nods in understanding, and I lift my hand from the wheel to wave. “Thanks. I know you are doing your best.”
At a snail’s pace, I drive up a few feet to the mailboxes. “Can you check that? I’m expecting some documents.”
She rolls her eyes to glance sidelong at me. “Really? I just receivedthatnews and now you want to harass me about our old game that terrorized the neighborhood?”
I manage to keep my laugh under my breath, and Esme doesn’t seem to enjoy my humor due to the last ten minutes.
But it all changes when we park and walk inside. Instantly, I step behind her, with my hands covering her eyes. “Close your eyes,” I tell her.
She snickers. “Uh, you are kind of doing that for me. What’s going on?”
Smiling to myself, I walk her forward down the hall toward the laundry room. I stop us right at the doorway to the small office that I never use.
My hands fall from her face and already I’m proud of my efforts.
Esme takes a few moments to flicker her eyes and adjust to her surroundings before she halfway turns to face me with confusion on her face. “What is this?”
Swooping up her wrists, I drag her along further into the room, her smile inching wider. “Your mood desk.”
She’s assessing the scene, and I’m along for the ride and following her view. A new desk with space for her computer, candles, a string of those white party lights, a cactus, and a few photos of her blown up and placed in frames that are hanging on the wall. Her entire face is in awe and still trying to comprehend what I’ve done.
“This is so sweet.” Her fingertips touch my arm, and myheart warms because I wanted to do this gesture for her, and I’m pleased she seems happy. But then she swats my arm. “Leave it to you to pick those photos for the wall.”
