“Feel free to start sharing,” Maddie said, intrigued.
“Okay, I’ll be blunt. I heard you had lunch at the Lord James.”
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t that. “I did. With my attorney.”
“Well . . .” Francine dragged out her words. “I don’t know how long you plan to stay, or if you’re interested . . . but seeing as how you’re available . . .” She stopped. She paused. “What I’m trying to say is that Rex likes you. I tried to get him to ask you out, but he’s pretty shy.”
They went through the lobby toward the doctor’s office.
“Really?” Maddie finally asked.
“Yes, really. So maybe it’s not a coincidence that I ran into you today. If you say yes, I’ll tell him. If you say no, I won’t say a word. Like we never had this conversation.”
Maddie let out what sounded like a cross between a laugh and a chuckle. She’d allowed herself to get so wrapped up in her work and her family and applying for tenure, that she’d justified not dating. Which, of course, was easier than trying to find a nice man over forty. One without a secret wife and three kids in the wings. And yet Rex seemed different. Older than her, but not too much. Besides, his spirit seemed younger, more lighthearted than hers. Which she found attractive.
Then she heard someone say, “Yes. I’m interested.” She was surprised that the “someone” was her.
“Great!” Francine cried as they reached the office. “But go easy on him, please. He’s really a gem.”
Maddie smiled again and thanked her. Then she marched into the reception area, standing taller and feeling so very happy.
* * *
What on earth had she been thinking?
The doctor said she was healing well and reassured her she would not be in a cast or on crutches for the rest of her life, at least, not due to this. Frankly, however, Maddie half listened because she was preoccupied thinking about Rex. After making another follow-up appointment for two weeks from then, knowing she’d wind up cancelling it because she’d be back in Green Hills by then and would see her own doctor, she Ubered her way back to the cottage, and busied herself by brown-bagging dozens more issues of her grandmother’s outdated magazines—Yankee,Good Housekeeping,Farmer’s Almanac—for recycling. All the while, she worried about what would happen if she liked Rex. Or more specifically, what if she fell for him? Would she change her mind and keep the cottage? She could sell the two other properties and live quite well off the proceeds for the rest of her life and put Rafe through grad school, too. She could withdraw from the tenure race and let Manchino have it because he was young and probably deserved a break.
But . . . what if Rex didn’t like her as much as she liked him? How could she stay there? It would be humiliating.
Besides, she knew nothing about him. He could be a ladies’ man or a con man or simply a creep. Francine said he was a gem . . . but she was young and married and maybe naive.
If he called, Maddie could always say no. In mere days she’d have her grandmother’s things sorted and dispensed or disposed of. She’d list the properties with CiCi, because it would be easier than trying to vet someone else.
Yes, there was no way Maddie could go out with Rex. She had too much at stake to make a decision based on a man. This was her life, not a romance novel. She hoped he would not be disappointed.
She sped up her chores. When she was done, she returned to Grandma’s bedroom and tackled the clothing. She already knew she’d trash most of it.
She was right. The worn-out shoes and all the clothes—including what was in the dresser—went into trash bags. The lone exception was the skirt that was decked out with the colorful beads, which she decided to give to the tribe.
With the clothing completed, she deserved a rest. She couldn’t remember ever napping so much. She blamed it on the pain meds. Then she lay down on the bed, slept, woke up, slept again. She repeated that for a couple of hours, her brain barging in on her forty winks with reminders about what remained on her to-do list.
Finally, she gave up and assessed the tasks, congratulating herself for having made a good dent in her grandmother’s personal things. As for the rest, all the furniture and all the old dishes and glassware, pots and pans, and cooking and eating utensils in the kitchen could probably be trashed, unless someone wanted any or—God bless them—all of it. Maybe CiCi could take care of getting it hauled out of there. For the size of her commission, it seemed like the least she could do.
Before calling CiCi, Maddie decided to have Joe stop by and offer his input on whether the things she’d designated for the tribe would be appreciated. She’d want him to distribute them however he wished.
Which would take care of the personal items and the furniture. Except for the contents of the linen closet, which was packed with ragged sheets and towels. There also was the hobbit house—she’d ask Rafe to drag out the seaman’s chest so she could sort her childhood riches. At least the closet in her mother’s bedroom was empty. Sad as that made Maddie feel.
With too much on her mind to relax, she knew that if both of her feet were in good working order, she would absolutely go for a run. But with that not being remotely possible, maybe a snack would suffice.
Besides, it was almost seven o’clock and, surprisingly, she was hungry.
Once in the kitchen, she took a spoon from a drawer, rinsed it in hot water, then sat at the table, picking her way through the plastic container of potato salad leftover from Lisa’s get-together. Which didn’t stop her brain cells from churning like the eddy of fish she’d seen when canoeing with Joe.
She thought about how invasive it was to weed out a lifetime of someone else’s stuff . . . and that, one day, she’d have to do that with her father’s belongings. Of course, thinking of him caused her anger to resurface.
Men could be so weird!
Not surprisingly, she supposed, that thought brought her back to Rex.
