“I’ll try. Thanks. For everything.”
“I’ll see myself out.” She stood. “You work on what Charlie’s going to do next.”
He got to his feet, smiling. “I’m going to give it a shot.” He got the office door for her. Joyce was nowhere to be seen. He walked with Harper to the steps that led to the front of the house. “Have a good rest of the day. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Sounds good. Bye.”
Harper left. He turned around. Joyce was in the kitchen. He took a small breath, surprised by her presence. How did she move so quietly and appear out of nowhere?
“Would you like some lunch?” she asked.
“Um…Yeah, okay.” Was it really that late already? He was hungry. And he hadn’t eaten the scone.
“Sandwich? Salad? Soup?
He nodded and slid onto one of the stools at the counter. “A sandwich sounds great. Thank you.” He shifted in his seat. “Thank you for everything you did for Jeanie, too. And for me and for Kyle. I’ve never actually said it, but you kept us going and I will always be grateful to you for that. In fact, take tomorrow morning off. I can make my own breakfast. And lunch. You don’t need to be here until three or four.”
If he had to make his own dinner, he’d probably set the kitchen on fire. Unless he just made a sandwich.
Her brows lifted slightly. “Blimey.” She glanced toward his office. “What exactly happened in there? Never mind, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. You’re welcome, of course. It’s been my pleasure to look after you all.”
“Harper is a good listener. And a nice person.”
Joyce started pulling things from the fridge. “Not bad-looking, either.”
He knew where that was headed and wanted none of it. “I’ll be right back. Forgot about an email I need to send. Call me when it’s ready.”
“Will do.”
He slipped back into his office and sat at the desk. He took a bite of the scone still sitting there, then opened his email. Nothing that needed his immediate attention. He clicked over to his document and went back to the very beginning to read through what he had so far.
By the time Joyce called out to him that lunch was ready, he’d added four hundred words and eaten the rest of the scone.
How was that possible after the wretched night he’d had? Could talking about what bothered him really make that much difference? Or did it have more to do with the woman who’d sat here, listening to him, showering him with compassion and understanding?
His brain said it had everything to do with Harper. But his heart felt like he was dangerously close to something akin to betrayal. That was nonsense. Harper was in no way a threat to Jeanie’s memory.
Was she?
ChapterForty-Four
Harper was happy, if not a little tired as she walked through the front door. Listening with intent was harder than most people realized. It required her to actively pay attention, not just nod and murmur reassurances at what felt like the appropriate time. She worked hard to shut down her own intrusive thoughts and focus on the person talking.
Mitch had shared so much. She ached over the amount of pain and guilt he was carrying. No wonder he struggled to write. He blamed himself for basically being human.
Harper wished he’d talked about his parents some. She had no idea what they were like but if she had to guess, she’d say they weren’t the warmest of people. Big on discipline, short on praise. Mitch didn’t seem to have affection as one of his basic skills. Common in a lot of men, older men anyway, although Mitch couldn’t be more than a few years her senior.
That kind of reserved upbringing made a lot of people suppress intense emotion, which was exactly what he’d been doing. That emotion was making itself known through dreams. It had to come out somehow. The nightmare he’d had, the one he had repeatedly, was proof of that.
She believed that through journalling, he could start to transfer some of that emotion into a deeper understanding of the situation.
The fact that he’d talked to her today should help, too. Not that she expected their conversation to spark some kind of major breakthrough, but it was a start. Talking always helped. Not once had she seen it fail.
Sometimes it took a lot of talking. The bigger the problem, the more conversation it required.
She found Archie snoozing in a spot of sun coming through the glass doors leading out to the deck. Frankie wasn’t out there as Harper had expected. In fact, Frankie didn’t seem to be around, but Harper figured she was probably just upstairs working.
Harper went to the fridge to see what there was for lunch. She hadn’t had breakfast, so she was hungrier than usual. She opted for a salad with a can of tuna added on top and a small handful of the whole grain chips she’d picked up on her grocery run.
