"What have you done to the farmhouse?" I ask.
Falon lights up. "Windows in the dining room. The floors, the bed and bath, and the kitchen are still a work in progress. I insulated the garage, put together the patio furniture.”
"You did all that yourself?"
"Most of it." There's pride in the shrug. "It's mine. I want to do it right."
“What still needs to be done?”
“Oh, wow. Too much to mention, but my must-dos first are: the fireplace needs work before winter. Upstairs bathroom is basically gutted, so I’m showering in a tub and plywood." She takes a bite of toast. "But the original ceiling beams in the living room are gorgeous, and I think I want to keep them exposed."
Every inch of this life is exactly where she put it. I leanback in my chair. When I got here, 'temporary' was the point, but now it's starting to feel like the wrong word entirely.
"It's really something," I say. "What you're building here."
She looks at me across the table.
"Thanks, Bo," she says quietly, uncomfortable with the compliment.
We do the dishes side by side. She rinses; I load. Our fingers brush as we hand off a plate. Then again, with a bowl. The second time, the pull-away is a bit slower, and we both feel it.
Frank starts up outside; three sharp crows. Falon doesn't even flinch.
"He does this every night," she says.
"But it's not morning?"
"Frank operates on Frank time." She hands me the last bowl. "I've made my peace with it, except at four a.m."
When the dishes are done, I wish Falon a good night and head for the door.
"Bo?"
I turn. She's standing by the sink with the dish towel in her hands, looking uncertain in a way she almost never lets herself look.
"You're really okay here? It's not too rough?"
It's the least rough thing I've felt in eighteen months.
"I'm good," I say. "Promise."
She nods, satisfied, and her features soften. "Let me know if you need anything."
"I will."
I walk back to the guest house under a sky full of stars. When I close the door behind me, the silence is different.
I'm lying on the bed staring at the ceiling when my phone buzzes.
Tyler: How's Everwood?
I look at the message for a long time.
Bo: Good. Settling in.
Tyler: Falon okay?
Bo: Yeah. She's fine.
