by Alexa Verde
While Roman and Jonah snapped photos, she looked up her policy information, in case she did have to file a claim.
“Okay, done.” Roman put the phone back in his pocket. “Now, Jonah, you might want to go back to the truck and wait for us. I’m going to pump out the water, and the mud left by floodwater might contain toxins.”
“Yeah, great, while you have all the fun,” Jonah grumbled.
She bit her lip. She wouldn’t call pumping out dirty water “fun” exactly. The word toxins made her close her eyes, then open them. She shouldn’t have brought her son here. “You can play on your phone.”
Jonah perked up. “Oh, good idea. Okay.”
Sometimes she felt that, if she didn’t interrupt her son for meals, he could spend days on that thing. Months, probably. “I’ll walk you to the truck.”
Roman threw her the keys, and she caught them as they rattled in the air. After she opened the truck for Jonah and made sure it wouldn’t be too cold inside, she used the opportunity to check on her backyard. As she entered the small gate, her heart sank lower.
While thankfully the water had receded, it had brought debris and left trash in its wake. She pulled her shoulders back. She’d have to deal with it later. Somehow.
First, she needed to take care of the house.
By the time she came back, Roman was already pumping water, wearing a mask, goggles, and heavy gloves. She couldn’t do much more than to hang back and watch him work. His muscles strained beneath his long sleeved T-shirt as he concentrated on the job. And just like in her teen years, she couldn’t look away from him.
Even after what she’d done, without knowing the reason for it, he still had her back. She’d always been able to rely on him. When they’d been teens, she’d considered Roman a godsend. They’d been friends long before they’d admitted feelings for each other, and a shy, socially awkward girl from the bad part of town had needed a friend badly. Her cousins being older, she’d sat at lunch by herself many times before Roman joined her. Interestingly enough, soon after Roman befriended her, several girls from her classes befriended her, too. Some of his popularity rubbed off on her.
“Remember how you often took me to Mrs. MacPherson’s after school to study or to the movies, even if you had zero interest in the new movie?” The words escaped before she could stop them.
Neither she nor Roman had a friendly home atmosphere, but Mrs. MacPherson always welcomed them. Her house smelled of cookies and houseplants and had been filled with love and affection.
Somehow, he heard her over the pump as he continued expelling the water from the floors. “I loved your company. So did my cousin’s mother.” Behind the mask, she couldn’t see his lips, but based on his warm tone she hoped a smile touched them. “The fact that you could whip up delicious pastries in her kitchen was a bonus.”
Warmth spread inside her. “You did so much for me. When something in my parents’ house went wrong, you did your best to repair it.”
That helped keep the peace in the family at least for some time. Otherwise, her mother would expect her father to repair things because they couldn’t afford a real repairman, and her father didn’t have either the time or knowhow to do it. And then the scandals would start. Then they’d be arguing about debts, and dinner would get burned because, of course, the stove didn’t work right. Aileen could still smell the burned food, could hear the drop of water during sleepless nights that seemed to hit her on her head because the faucet was dripping.
But once Roman appeared in her life, he’d come after school and fixed what he could, and she’d had peace and quiet for some time. “Thank you for doing all those repairs. You told me I could pay you in cookies, but you knew I’d bake them for you, anyway.”
He’d helped her when she’d been failing math, too. When older guys had bullied her at school. He’d always been there for her. Maybe that was why she’d fallen so hard for him, though his good looks didn’t hurt, either. He was the most handsome boy to her, and after taking up wrestling and physical labor at a young age, he’d developed nice muscles before other boys had.
But his brown eyes appealed to her the most. Their openness invited in, and his optimism—a welcome contrast to her pessimism—and sense of humor asked to stay.
“Then the price went up.” Twinkles appeared in his eyes. “I asked you to pay me in kisses. But for a long time, you continued paying in cookies.”
Warmth intensified at the memory of him brushing his lips against hers for the first time and her heart beating wildly as if trying to jump out of her chest.…
A shadow passed over his face as if he remembered things were different between them now, and he concentrated on the pump again.
Had she done the right thing that painful day twenty-two years ago?
The conversation she’d overheard once rang in her ears. She’d been nine at the time and had gone to the kitchen to get a glass of water when she’d woken up and felt thirsty. Her parents were still up and arguing, as always. She’d covered her ears and turned around as her little heart squeezed, but hearing her name rooted her to the floor. A slight scent of alcohol spread through the air as she listened to the shouts. Her mother had yelled that he should’ve allowed her to have the abortion and then she would’ve become an actress like she’d always wanted.
Instead, the pregnancy made her fat and she’d never been able to lose it, and the medical bills for delivering a sickly preemie mounted on the credit card she’d had for plastic surgeries that were useless now. Having a child destroyed her dream. Ruined her life.
Aileen hadn’t waited to hear what her father replied as she ran back to her room. She’d cried through the rest of the night, her sobs muffled by the pillow. Since then, guilt tasted like salty tears and smelled like alcohol. She’d been responsible for ruining her parents’ life because surely her father couldn’t be happy with his wife constantly berating him. She’d been the reason for their huge credit card debt, too.
It was all her fault.
By morning, as she’d hiccupped and hugged the wet, cold pillow, she’d known two things: she’d start working as soon as she could to stop being a burden to her parents and she’d never, ever go into debt like her mother.
Eventually, her mind understood that she couldn’t be blamed for being born, but the guilt stayed, reinforced by her mother every time Aileen did something wrong. Aileen recoiled, realizing that, even if her mother had wanted a daughter—which she hadn’t—Aileen wasn’t it.
Since that conversation, she’d distanced herself from her mom who didn’t seem to mind it one bit and became even more a daddy’s girl than before. He’d been the one to read her bedtime stories or make her waffles for breakfast. She’d started baking because she’d wanted to surprise him. Her mother rarely cooked and having baked goods only irritated her because it would be bad for her figure. But her father loved her desserts and encouraged her.
That was how Aileen knew the third thing. She’d die for her father.
What was marrying the man she didn’t love compared to that? If only it hadn’t come at the price of hurting the man she did love…
Once the water was gone, she stepped forward. “I’ll clean the mud.”
“Let’s throw away the rugs first, if you don’t mind. Sorry, but they might become moldy, and you don’t want that in your house.” He gestured to the upholstered sofa. “Up to you what you want to do with the sofa.”
She cringed. Rugs she didn’t mind much. But her sofa?
Okay, okay.
She could do this. She took a deep breath of humid air with a hint of mud and hiked up her chin. Her son’s health was more important than her sofa, and she’d rather be safe than sorry.
He sent her a compassionate gaze. “You can take one of my sofas, if you like it, and a few accent rugs.”
His soft sofas did look cozy and comfortable, but she shook her head. “You’re helping me enough already. I won’t take your sofa or rugs.”
“The offer is s
tanding. I’ll take care of the rugs. I don’t want you to touch them.” He carefully rolled the rugs. “I hope throwing them away is okay with you.”
She sighed. Rugs were small and inexpensive, and though she rather got accustomed to their cheerful flowery pattern, she could part with them easily. Now more than ever she was glad she’d bought a house with tile and wood flooring instead of a carpeted one. At the time, she’d just thought how pretty oak hardwood looked and how much more pet-friendly than carpet it was. Dawg, who’d been a puppy then, had proved her right the very first night by making a puddle.
“But you’re not moving the sofa out by yourself.” She placed her hands on her hips.
“Are you sure you want to throw it away? It might be fine.”
“I’m sure.” She knew herself. She’d worry it was growing mold even if it didn’t. Besides, she’d gotten the sofa and loveseat at a thrift store for an unbelievably low price.
He lifted one end of the charcoal-gray sofa and she the other one, and they finagled the sofa through the door and outside to the curb. A matching loveseat followed. She gave them one long gaze and turned around.
She’d left much more expensive material possessions in Portland and hadn’t looked back.
“I’ll pick it up later and take it to the designated dumpster,” he said after they entered the house.
“Thanks.” She made a quick walk-through of the house, giving everything a critical eye.
Then, with Roman’s help, she wiped down the bottom of furniture that had been in the water with a chemical solution he’d brought.
Thankfully, the water didn’t reach her bedding or mattresses. Mrs. MacPherson had gifted the beds and the dresser. Aileen bought mismatched dining room furniture and a coffee table and sofa for the living room in the thrift store. But the mattresses, Aileen had bought new. Thankfully, the tiny house already had built-in bookshelves, so she didn’t need to buy those.
Yesterday, she’d placed their books on the top shelves, thankfully fitting them all, so no books needed to be thrown out. Her collection only held volumes she’d read many times, her favorites, and she’d hate to let them go.
However, mud left by floodwater covered the tile floors.
She grimaced, then straightened her spine. She’d changed her pessimistic outlook on life—well, mostly. It could’ve been much worse. There could’ve been way more damage, plus another tree decorating the roof of her house, and she could’ve been doing the cleanup all on her own. How would she have removed muddy water without the equipment?
She was fine with hard work, proved it by getting up at four in the morning every day since moving back to her hometown. But she also knew when she needed help.
“Time for cleanup.” Okay, maybe her voice didn’t sound as cheerful as she wanted to, but it wasn’t as gloomy as the mud under her feet, either.
“Be careful. There might be nails and other small sharp objects amongst the debris.” He lifted his hand as if to stop her. “You know, I’ll just do it myself.”
Yeah, right.
She nearly snorted. “Enough is enough. I’m not going to stand there and watch you do all the work.” Though she had to admit, that was a pleasant sight to see. Those muscles bulging… She suppressed a wave that went through her body. “I can do the cleanup. You should’ve seen that store’s condition when I bought it.”
She didn’t say it to anyone, but she was surprised the place hadn’t been closed down. The small cottage had needed a lot of scrubbing, too.
He chuckled. “I recognize my Aileen. When I did the repairs on your parents’ place, you always insisted on grabbing a hammer or a saw and helping.” Warmth coated his voice like hot chocolate coated the top of her cupcakes until he seemed to realize his slip of the tongue. “Not that you’re mine.”
“Roman, I…” So many things she wanted to tell him. A lump formed in her throat, so unwelcome after the pleasant feeling she’d just had. Should she tell him why she married Dr. Krasinski? No, they had a job to do. “Better not to unearth the past.”
He gave her a long look. “Better not. You obviously moved on, and I–I moved on, too.”
The lump grew bigger.
He moved on.
He’d stopped loving her. What else could she expect?
With her newfound cheerful outlook sucked out of her like the muddy water from the floor, she got mops and buckets from the closet, and they went from room to room.
“Thank you. Now what?” Her arms hurt and it was getting dark, but she was eager to finish here.
“Lock the house and let everything, especially the appliances, dry. You can’t risk switching on the power till I check it. So tomorrow, I need to examine the wiring, and then we’ll clean the walls. Anything porous will need to be wiped with a bleach solution to prevent mold and mildew. I’ll give it all a quick spray tonight, and then we can finish the job tomorrow.”
She hiked her chin. Surely, he already had clients scheduled for tomorrow. A different man wouldn’t even speak to her in this situation. “I’ll do it myself. Why are you even doing all this?” Something in her wanted to hear it was because he still had feelings for her.
He frowned as he continued spraying the wall. “I believe we should help our neighbor. In a way, you’re my neighbor now. And when I look at you, sometimes I can still see the wonderful girl you used to be. And… I feel bad for Jonah. I know what it means to have a rough childhood. To see your father walk away.”
The third reason made a knife turn in her heart. When she’d dreamed of her wedding to Roman, she was so certain their children would have different childhoods from what either one of them had. Their children would have caring parents and lots of love growing up.
She didn’t give that kind of childhood to Jonah.
Not even close.
To ease her sense of guilt, she called her son on his cell phone to check on him.
“Stop worrying. I’m fine with video games, which you interrupted, by the way. Oh, would you like me to come in and help you?” Jonah’s voice perked up.
“Nope. Sit tight.” She disconnected, and turned to Roman. “I can take care of the rest of the clean-up myself.”
“To be on the safe side, please don’t try. I have enough knowledge and skills to work as an electrician.”
She sighed, recognizing her defeat. “And I don’t.”
“What if you get electrocuted?” His voice dipped lower. “Who’ll take care of Jonah?”
“I know, I know.” She lifted her hands in surrender.
She hated depending on Roman so much. She was an independent woman now. In a way, she’d learned to be independent while being married, especially when Jonah had come along, because she’d had to do nearly everything by herself.
But having Roman insist on helping her touched her deeply, even if turning into a “fixer” had become his second nature early on.
She couldn’t exactly depend on her cousins here and ask for their help. She’d been shocked when one loaned her a truck. But then the old vehicle obviously didn’t work well, so it might not have been as huge a favor as she’d thought.
While her relatives had welcomed Jonah into their midst, they weren’t nearly as welcoming to her. Most were friends with Roman and weren’t happy with her when she’d broken his heart. Maybe if she’d explained her reasons, made them see it from her point of view, they would’ve treated her differently. But going through it again felt too painful, and she’d postponed it until she’d just let it be.
If only she could scrub away her memories of all the bad things that happened these last twenty-two years, as clean as they’d scrubbed the floors.
Everything from her marriage, except for Jonah.
She’d never regret Jonah.
Once Roman was done with spraying the walls, they removed their masks. A tight band around her lungs loosened up as she surveyed the house again. Without standing water, with clean beige tiled floors, it looked like far more her home again, even though mud s
till stained the lower walls.
What would she have done without Roman? Professional cleaning wasn’t exactly in the budget, and no way could she do all this by herself, without the equipment and knowledge he had.
Sadly, she couldn’t pay him in kisses any longer, and all the cookies in the world wouldn’t sweeten the bitterness she’d caused him.
Well, she needed to worry about things on hand. She called one of her neighbors whose house was better elevated and escaped the flooding and asked her to keep an eye on her place for one more night.
“Thank you. I owe you my signature chocolate cake.” She disconnected and glanced at Roman.
“Time to leave.” He opened the front door for her.
“Time to leave.” She stepped outside, into the gathering dusk.
The wind threw her hair around her, and she flipped it back with an impatient gesture, then locked the house. She walked with Roman in silence to his truck.
It was time to leave her house for the night.
It was time to leave her past behind.
She had barely minutes left before they’d reach his souped-up truck. She didn’t want Jonah to overhear this. He already had to work hard to love his father, and after knowing the truth, that fragile love could be shattered.
She reached for Roman’s hand, then jerked her arm back. Touching him would only make this more difficult.
“I don’t regret the choice I made.” She swallowed hard. At the time, that had seemed the only way, the only hope to keep her father alive.
A muscle moved in Roman’s jaw. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I do. I should’ve done this over two decades ago. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Tears burned behind her eyes. She stopped. The wind picked up, but she didn’t care.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes searched hers. “Why did I have to find out from a wedding invitation, of all things? Didn’t what we once had deserve more? I thought you cared about me the way I cared about you. I understand if you fell out of love with me, met someone new, and fell in love.”
“Roman—”
“I’d even understand if you didn’t want to drive from Portland here and have an unpleasant conversation.” Anger flashed in his dark eyes. “But couldn’t you at least have called? I wasn’t worth a five-minute call?”