“They’re not a fire hazard.”
“They are now.” He held up a rusted section of gutter. “See? Rust. Very flammable.”
“Rust isn’t flammable.”
“Are you a fire professional?”
Grace looked at me. Her eyes were wet again, that same overwhelmed expression she’d had in the nursery. “Owen. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.” I checked something off on my clipboard. “The electrical contractor is coming on Monday. The plumber’s scheduled for next week. The inspector already approved the timeline. But this stuff”—I gestured at the roof, the windows, the porch where two firefighters were replacing rotted boards—“this we can handle ourselves.”
“I can’t afford?—”
“You’re not paying for labor. Just materials. And Cal owed me for covering his shift last month, so technically you’re doing him a favor.”
“That’s not how favors work.”
“It is now.”
Grace opened her mouth to argue. Then she closed it. Looked around at the crew swarming over her grandmother’s house, fixing things that had been broken for years.
Something in her face shifted. Crumpled. She pressed both hands to her mouth and started to cry.
I stepped closer, ready to comfort her, but Lucy was already there. She handed Gabrielle to Elena and wrapped an arm around Grace’s shoulders, guiding her toward the porch steps.
“Come on,” Lucy said. “Let’s get you some tea. The boys can handle the demolition.”
I watched them go. Grace leaned into Lucy like she’d forgotten what it felt like to be held by something bigger than herself. Like she’d forgotten this was allowed.
Like she’d spent so long surviving alone, she didn’t recognize help when it arrived with open hands.
By the end of the day, the B&B had new gutters, a patched roof, three replaced windows, and a porch that didn’t creak. The crew had worked through lunch, through the afternoon heat, through the golden hour when the mountains turned purple in the distance.
Now they sprawled across the back porch, pizza boxes and beer bottles scattered between them, the easy warmth of people who’d become family. Cal was telling a story about a call from last year, something involving a raccoon and a chimney. Liam had his arm around Riley, her head on his shoulder, both of them looking tired and content. Mia had claimed Lucy’s side sometime in the last hour, chattering about her day at school while Lucy braided her hair with absent, practiced fingers. Kowalski was teaching Gabrielle to high-five, celebrating every successful slap like she’d won an Olympic medal.
Grace sat in the middle of it all, looking stunned.
She’d changed out of her robe at some point, put on one of those loose dresses she wore now that hid nothing. Her hand rested on her belly, and she was laughing at something Cal said, and I realized I’d been standing still, watching her, longer than I meant to.
This was what she’d been missing. Not just help with the house, but this. People. Connection. The reminder that she wasn’t alone, that she’d never been alone, that there were people who would show up for her if she let them.
Lucy appeared beside me.
“You look different around her,” she said quietly.
I tore my eyes away from Grace. “What?”
“Grace.” Lucy nodded toward her. “I’ve known you for years, Owen. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
Lucy just smiled. That knowing smile she had, the one that made you feel like she could see straight through you.
Mrs. Patterson appeared from inside with fresh coffee, surveyed the scene, and caught my eye. She nodded once, approving, then disappeared back into the house.
I felt seen in a way that made my chest tight, like there was no place left to hide.
The crew left as the sun set.
