Caroline selected the brass fitting he'd set aside earlier and placed it in his palm. This time, she was careful to avoid contact with his skin, telling herself it was professionalism rather than self-preservation.
"So how's your … assessment going?" he asked as he worked the new fitting onto the pipe. His tone was carefully neutral, but Caroline sensed the question wasn't as innocent as it sounded.
"Illuminating," she replied cautiously. "Ellen's system is unique."
Finn made a sound that might have been a laugh. "That's diplomatic. I'm guessing spreadsheets aren't her strong suit."
"Not exactly, no." Caroline hesitated, then admitted, "It's challenging to quantify some aspects of the business. The sentimental value attached to certain pieces, the community connections, Ellen's particular approach to customer relationships..."
"That's because those things resist quantification by design." Finn tightened the coupling with a wrench, his movements precise despite the awkward angle. "Not everything valuable can be entered into a spreadsheet."
The observation hit uncomfortably close to Caroline’s own earlier thoughts. She shifted her weight, uncertain how to respond. Finn saved her the trouble by continuing.
"But I suppose in your line of work, everything needs a number attached to it." There was no judgment in his tone, just a statement of fact. "That's got to be its own kind of challenge."
"It is," Caroline acknowledged, surprised by his perception. "People often resist seeing the financial reality of their situation. They let emotion cloud their judgment about necessary changes."
Finn paused in his work, looking down at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. "Or maybe emotion is what helps them see clearly, and numbers are what cloud the view."
Before Caroline could formulate a response, he turned back to the pipes. "Almost done here. Just need to solder this joint and we should be watertight again."
He descended from the stepladder and rummaged in his toolbox for a small propane torch. As he prepared to heat the copper fitting, Caroline stepped back, watching as he worked with the same careful precision he'd shown when handling Ellen's dresses.
"History has a lot to teach us if we're willing to learn," he continued, his eyes on the copper joint as it began to glow red beneath the torch's flame. "These old buildings, these old businesses – they've weathered a century of changes. Not by fighting progress, but by holding onto what matters while adapting to what's necessary." He extinguished the torch and tested the joint with a gloved finger. "That's the trick Ellenfigured out with Sea Glass Bridal. She honors the past while serving the present."
The simple observation contained more insight than Caroline had expected. She watched as Finn tested his repair, turning the water valve back on and examining the joint for any weakness, when her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Taking it out, she frowned a little, realizing it was from Ellen.
Chemo went late so they’re keeping me in overnight. Nothing to worry about. See you tomorrow.
Uneasy, Caroline sent a quick reply, asking her aunt to keep her updated on tomorrow’s release time, so she could help arrange transportation from the hospital. Then, feeling uncomfortable about whether it was appropriate to add anything personal, she signed it off with a neutral ‘Rest well.’
"Tight as a drum," Finn declared after a moment. "Now for the ceiling." He pulled a small tin of spackling compound from his toolbox and began repairing the hole he'd created, his hands moving with surprising delicacy for their size. "A couple more hours and we might have had real damage." He applied a final smear of compound to the ceiling patch. "I'll come back another time to sand and paint this, but it's structurally sound now at least."
“No rush, it seems the hospital’s keeping Ellen in overnight,” Caroline mumbled, and his face darkened.
“What else?” he asked shortly, and when she looked confused, he added. “The hospital I mean, did they give a reason for keeping her in?”
“I don’t know - I just got a text from her,” she explained, in two minds as to whether she should be sharing her aunt’s medical details with anyone else. “She said the appointment ran late, but everything’s fine.”
Finn just nodded and began cleaning up, wiping his tools and returning them to their designated spots in his toolbox. Caroline moved to fold the tarp, now spotted with water and plaster dust.
"I can take care of that," he said, reaching for the plastic sheet. Their hands met on the folded edge, and this time, neither pulled away. For a moment, they stood connected by the simple point of contact.
Caroline broke the contact first, stepping back with the tarp clutched against her chest like a shield. "I should pay you for the emergency call. Ellen probably has an account..."
"No charge," Finn said, returning to his cleanup. “She would do the same for any of us. Has done, many times over."
"At least let me offer you dinner then?” Caroline heard herself saying, then immediately wished she could take back the words. "I mean, as a thank you. Though I should warn you I'm not much of a cook, and Ellen's stove is rather ancient..."
Finn's gaze met hers again, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks. Was that amusement in his expression? Or something more complicated?
"Ellen's stove is a piece of history in itself," he joked, his voice warmer than it had been since his arrival. "Still, there are plenty of good places to eat in town. The Dune Deck has the best fish tacos on the island – tell Lila I sent you and she'll add extra avocado."
Not an acceptance of her invitation, Caroline realized with a strange sinking feeling, but not quite a rejection either.
"The Dune Deck," she repeated. "Sounds good."
