“Did you guys do okay in the storm?” he asked her, wishing he could reach across the bar and kiss her instead of asking benign questions about the weather.
“All good. We lost power for a couple of hours, like everybody else, but no damage. You?”
“All good.”
“Well, I wouldn’t saynodamage,” Lucy said as she put a coaster with the Keel’s logo on the bar in front of her, and he tensed. “I officially cut ties with Iris.”
“I’m sorry,” he said automatically. It couldn’t have been easy. “It’s definitely her loss.”
“She was actually researching the cottage’s value, and I realized…well, anyway. That’s done.”
“It must be nice to have Helen in person, finally.”
“It’s great. She tooksomany pictures, and we’ve done so much talking. And I have to build a house.”
“That sounds drastic. And expensive.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Plus I’ve seen you swing a hammer. Have you considered just renting an apartment somewhere?”
Like somewhere nearby so you’re still in my life?
“No, it’s like a metaphorical house. Or something. It’s hard to explain. But Gran’s my foundation and now I need to build the life I want to live in, like a house.”
Maybe it was because building houses had been a part of Nick’s life since he was old enough for his father to trust him with snapping a chalk line, but he thought it was a shaky analogy. Building houses wasn’t a sure thing. A lot of people built houses and then realized the floor plan that looked good on paper didn’t actually work for their families. They built houses they couldn’t afford and eventually had to sell or lose to the bank. They cut corners and had bad rooflines and leaky basements.
“You just keeping that stool warm?” Billy asked in a rough voice as he stepped up behind Lucy.
“Hey, Billy. Having some trouble deciding what I want tonight.”
He snorted and nudged Lucy’s arm with his elbow. “He’ll have the meat loaf with mashed, extra gravy. No veg. Two rolls, extra butter. And a ginger ale.”
When Lucy arched an eyebrow at him, Nick shrugged. “Sounds good.”
Billy barked out a laugh. “This one’s got a habit of showing up when meat loaf’s on the special board.”
After he walked away, Lucy put her hands on her hips. “And here I thought you’d come to see me.”
He had—he hadn’t even looked at their Facebook page or at the specials board outside—but the meat loaf gave him an excuse for being there other than not being able to stay away from her for a full two days.
She had to tend to some other customers after she set a ginger ale in front of him, so he pulled out his phone and scanned through the news in his sports app. He didn’t really care, but it gave him something to look at other than Lucy laughing with her other customers.
But when she brought out his meal, she leaned her elbows on the bar like she had time to visit for a few minutes.
“You know,” he said, “if you build a house, you need to make sure you build with the good quality materials. And you have to be prepared for the house not working out for you, after all.”
“So, I should build an RV?”
He snorted. “No. Nothing that temporary. But the house you build doesn’t have to be the house you stay in forever if you’re not as happy there as you thought you’d be.”
For a moment, the words hung between them—heavy with a meaning neither of them were sure he meant—and then she smiled. “You’d be a great life coach.”
“Absolutely not.” The last thing he needed was more people looking to him for answers, even if they were writing him checks for the advice.
“Okay, maybe not a great life coach, but a great coach.” She gave him a falsely innocent smile. “I’m just saying.”
She had no way of knowing he’d been thinking the same thing lately. Maybe it was just being able to talk openly about what football meant to him again. Or the feel of the ball in his arms as he ran down the beach. Probably both. But he’d seen the school was looking for volunteer assistant coaches and, unlike in the past, he was thinking about it.
So far he hadn’t done anythingbutthink, but he was starting to think it might be a good idea. Between moving back into the house and Lucy leaving, he knew he was in danger of going back into the small bubble of work and his brothers that he’d been living in.
Coaching could never fill the hole Lucy was going to leave in his life, but he could try to grab a little happiness for himself. And the busier he kept himself, the less time he’d have to miss her.
