Oh so casually, he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. “We talked yesterday, and I posted to the relevant Facebook groups from the parking lot.”
“From the parking lot?” Gran asked, scowling.
Larry shrugged in the most punchable way imaginable. “It was already in the drafts.”
“I wasn’t in my right mind when I talked to you yesterday. Ask Ernie. He saw me.”
Ernie rejoined the conversation with notable reluctance. “She demanded I give her an early refill and threatened to pluck out my armpit hairs one by one so I could experience ‘a mere glimpse of her unceasing torment.’ ”
“See? I have no memory of saying that! I was basically a different person and…legally…”
She eyed Mark for assistance. He let out a tiny pained mewl at the mere presence of her attention but nevertheless spoke upin her defense. “She’s suggesting she lacked the mental capacity to enter into a verbal agreement with you, and she wishes to void the contract.”
“That! Exactly that! Thank you, Mark.”
“Please leave me alone.”
“You got it.” She redirected her focus to Larry. “I lacked capacity, so I’m voiding the contract.”
“You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube.”
“Larry, take it down. Now.” Desperation clawed at her insides like a rabid animal. The room stared blankly at her, even Larry. Especially Larry. “If you can fire off a post from your nice, dry car while watching me bike home in the pouring rain”—her grandmother looked appropriately appalled—“then you can take down a post from a folding chair while I watch you eat stale corn chips and fail to make that straight.”
Gran hid a smile. “You heard the woman, Pometti. Chop, chop.”
Larry held Lainey’s gaze in a stranglehold. She wouldn’t be backing down. Not today. Not for this. With a long exhale, Larry pulled out his phone. “Fine,” he said in defeat.
Sweet relief sank all the way to her toes.
“Is there an ATM nearby?” the Rolex man said, finally realizing just how cooked he was.
Chapter 20
The Eyes of a Formerly Beautiful Woman
The Longest Day of the Year
The sun roseon the longest day of the year, just as it always did. Elliot had left early for his run, so Lainey woke by herself in cabin one.
Stopped by Flo’s Fro-Yo and Cell Phone Repair this morning, read a note on the kitchen table.Flo was able to repair your screen and dropped it off while you were out. She threw in free cinnamon frozen yogurt (in the freezer). Over at FB unloading the stone. Call if you need me.
After a nice long shower, she threw on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top and walked over to her old house. The sun was fully up, the air hot and thick after the rain. Elliot’s truck was parked in the driveway, the tailgate down and the bed empty. When she climbed up the porch and swung open the door, Elliot was splayed out over a tarp in front of the broken hearth.
“Good morning,” she said. There was music playing, a male voice singing about yearning with melodies that swept across the tile floor like a warm breeze on a back road.
Elliot looked up, smiling at her like she was sunshine. “You look like you’re feeling better today.”
She smiled back just as wide, relieved she hadn’t had to tellElliot about her momentary lapse in judgment with Larry. She’d fixed it, and though she was new to marriage, surely spouses weren’t expected to confess every instance in which they’dalmostdone something wrong. Ninety-three percent of her conscience felt very comfortable with that logic, and the other seven percent that stewed over this minuscule lie of omission could atone via masonry.
“I am. But you don’t get to mess with my hearth. You don’t know what you’re up against. Up.” She flicked up her palm.
He stood and gave her room to take his place next to a bucket of freshly mixed mortar. “Do you want my gloves before you completely take over?”
“I do.” She tilted her head to him, grinning. She took a moment to get the lay of the land and then dove in. These types of projects went better with an appropriate amount of blind faith and hubris. The stone could sense fear.
He leaned against the hearth, his arm stretched high, pulling his shirt taut at his chest. “I thought I’d gotten it closer to the color.” He frowned at the tan stone. “Maybe I should have brought you to Milwaukee after all.”
“No, you nailed it,” she assured him. She liked the press of his curious eyes on her neck and shoulders as he peered over her. “Stone has natural gradations. I’ll get it to blend. It’ll all look perfect by the time I’m done with it.”
