A Snowy Little Christmas

by Fern Michaels

  Handsome is an understatement, Jessie thought, as she once again looked for a wedding band. You have to stop doing that, she told herself. No ring. But that didn’t mean anything. A lot of men didn’t wear one, especially if they were in the trades. But there was an animal attraction she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Too long—stop it... she admonished herself again, also being very aware that her hands were trembling when he extended his.

  “Sorry, I was outside, and my hands are a little cold.” That’s so lame.

  “No worries.” He responded with a handshake. “Mine are a little rough.”

  And that smile. She thought she was going to faint.

  “Okeydokey, then. Shall we get started?” Jessie was hoping her knees wouldn’t buckle under her.

  “I remember coming here a few times when I was a kid.” Evan glanced around the big room. “I would visit my grandparents in the summer, and truth be told, I dreaded coming here.” He said this with a sheepish grin. “I was only interested in sports; anything requiring a bat, stick, or ball. I only agreed because we would go out for ice cream afterward.”

  Jessie was trying to size up his age. His salt-and-pepper hair made him appear to be in his early to mid forties, but she didn’t think he was that old. Obviously, people change, but she was sure that she would have remembered those eyes and that smile. She shrugged.

  “Funny, I was here every summer. I don’t remember rowdy boys in the reading group!” She was starting to relax with a bit of teasing.

  “Oh, I wasn’t rowdy. In fact, I was a bit shy. Intimidated, to be honest. I wasn’t much into books, so I felt a little stupid, especially when that girl would start reading to us. She was a little younger than I, and had mastered the art of storytelling!”

  Jessie’s face began to turn red. “Uh, I believe that would be me you’re talking about.”

  “Seriously? You?” Evan was dubious.

  “Yep. I was Miss Bossy Pants, instructing everyone to sit still and be quiet.”

  Evan let out a guffaw. “Well, I was impressed. You actually held my interest . . . at least for a few minutes!”

  “That is just crazy.” She had once intimidated him! The irony was not lost on her. “Well, Evan Becker, it’s nice to meet you again!”

  They took their time inspecting the walls, floors, and trim. “Looks like they put up those columns where there was a load-bearing wall.”

  Jessie gave him a perplexed look. Evan continued when he saw her questioning brow. “You need to support the beams for the roof or second floor. That’s what walls are for, besides designating space.” That smile again. “Nowadays they put up steel beams if you want an open expanse like this. Doing it now would be very costly, which is why you have these columns. Nice that they kept them natural.” Evan scanned the room again.

  “My dad and Uncle Hugo renovated it sometime back in the early seventies. Not exactly professionals.” She hoped they hadn’t committed any kind of construction faux pas that a real professional would find.

  “They did a pretty good job, actually. This is going to be a large space once you move out the sofas and bookcases.” He continued with his assessment. “I would suggest replacing the molding around the floor and doors. I know some people think keeping old wood is important—antique or some such nonsense—but this stuff is just old pine. The storage and bathroom doors are in pretty good shape. We can refinish them and clean up the knobs. The problem may be the floor. When you take out the bookcases, it’s going to need to be stripped, sanded, and refinished.”

  Jessie’s head was reeling. “Darn. I hadn’t thought about that part. I was more focused on getting rid of the books.” Her mood shifted.

  “You sure you want to sell this place?” Evan sensed her reluctance.

  “I do have mixed feelings about it. I have no idea how to run a bookstore, and I have a life in Philadelphia.”

  “Philly?”

  “Yes, that’s where I live and work now.”

  “What kind of work? If you don’t mind my asking.” Evan sounded genuinely interested.

  “Advertising. I did some volunteer work for a suicide hotline, but that got a little heavy after three years. Now I . . .” She immediately stopped that train of thought. “I just seem to work all the time.” She was proud of how she managed to save her secret, but that was twice in one day that she almost spilled the beans. She had to be more careful—but being back at the bookstore, her façade had disappeared.

  “All work and no play . . . I’m sure you’ve heard that before,” he chimed in. “I’m afraid that I’m guilty of the same thing.”

  “Must be rough on your wife and family.” Jessie was horrified that she had gone there so quickly, but then again, she only had one day to find out.

  “Wife? That was the problem. I worked too much, and she got ‘distracted.’” He used air quotes to illustrate the word. “Been divorced for several years. But my son and I have a great relationship. He’s going to be ten in February. I see him almost every day, and I get him every other weekend. I coach his Little League team.”

  “Ah. Now I see why you were anxious to get out of the bookstore with your bat and ball.” Jessie chuckled. He’s not married! Girlfriend? Too much to push at the moment.

  “Yes. I was actually drafted by the Astros when I graduated from college, but I broke my arm in my second game and lost my swing.” He sounded disappointed but not bitter. “They say God does things for you, not to you.”

  Handsome, not married, and philosophical. Jessie was beginning to think there was hope for the opposite sex.

  “Does your arm affect your construction work?” she asked, curious.

  “Most of what I do is the designing and estimating.” His face lit up once more with that smile. “I have a partner and a few guys on a crew that do all the heavy lifting. I do the planning and some of the finish work. The thinking part can be stressful, so the finish work helps me to relax.”

  Jessie finally took notice of what he was wearing. His handsome face had been a huge distraction when he first walked in. He was in what looked like a new pair of jeans with a tailored, button-down shirt, and what appeared to be a Hugo Boss belt. Hmmmm . . . good taste. And his work boots were shined. Slow down, girl. The fact that a member of the opposite sex was grabbing her interest was heartening. She was beginning to think she would never find another man attractive, especially hearing all the horror stories from her show. She wasn’t a man-hater by any means, but more of a hesitant party. She reminded herself that cautious was the key word.

  “I would suggest replacing the toilets and the sinks in the bathrooms, and the floors could use some help, too.” Evan was talking, but Jessie was lost in thought.

  “Huh? Oh, sorry. I was getting ahead of myself.” If he only knew.

  “Nothing to worry about. Renovating a place can be overwhelming, and given that you want to sell the place, that adds another layer of stress. I was saying that the floors in the bathroom could use some help. Right now they’re wood and have been abused, if you get my drift. I would suggest tile. You don’t want to start negotiating a sale when there are obvious issues.”

  “I agree. I want this to look inviting.” She smiled at him, noticing the early signs of crow’s-feet around his eyes. It gave him a look of experience more than age.

  “Okay, so I’ll include the removal of the bookshelves, refurbishing the floors, bathroom fixtures, ceramic tile, refinishing the doors, paint, and new molding. What do you want to do about the ceiling fixtures? The ceiling fans look like they’re about to retire.”

  “Might as well replace them.” Jessie started to add up the costs in her head but realized she was clueless. She had only lived in apartments, so she had never had to deal with any homeowner issues. She cringed at the next sentence. “We still have to check the apartment upstairs. Follow me.”

  Because the interior entrance to the apartment was rarely used, they went outside and climbed the steps to the second level. “The deck appea
rs to be in very good condition. And the yard just needs a little cleanup. If you need some assistance with landscaping, I have a guy who is good and reasonable.” Jessie opened the apartment door and gestured for Evan to walk in.

  The main living area was adjacent to the deck overlooking the large yard. The full-sized kitchen was equipped with stainless-steel appliances, including a dishwasher and a peninsular counter with stools. There was a dining alcove that accommodated a long, rectangular table, all opening into the large living room, which had a small corner fireplace.

  “Nice space.” Evan took a sweeping look. “I like the open floor plan and the skylights. With a northern exposure, it really brightens up the room.”

  “My uncle and dad were nuts about natural light—hence all the skylights in the place. Our house was chock-full of them. You’d have thought they hijacked a truck!” Jessie let out a small snicker. “We had one in almost every room—including my bedroom. I loved lying in my bed and looking up at the stars, especially in the winter, when you would get those glorious starry, starry nights. I would watch for shooting stars and, of course, Santa!” Jessie was enjoying her reminiscences. “But we couldn’t go to sleep on Christmas Eve until we made snow angels outside. That was how we knew Santa would find us.” She stopped short. “I must be boring you to tears.”

  “Not at all.” Evan gave her a warm smile.

  Jessie regained her poise. “Anyway . . . Uncle Hugo would let authors stay here when they would do a book signing. During the summer months, we always had friends or family popping in when there wasn’t an event. There was always a lot of activity, that’s for sure.”

  Jessie made her way through the apartment. “The bedrooms are average size, but the living area is quite comfortable. I think he was hoping I’d move in and take over the store.”

  “No interest?” Evan queried.

  “Oh, nooo. I had to go to Philadelphia to be with my then new photographer slash boyfriend. That lasted a few months. But I have a good job, friends, and I love the city. But . . .” Her voice trailed off, as she thought she was sharing too much information.

  “I get it. I moved here because I had met Alicia one summer when I was visiting my grandparents. After my baseball career ended, including my time as a coaching assistant at Oklahoma, where I went to school, I thought about moving my family back to Albany, where I grew up. But my cousin was starting his construction company and needed a partner. So here I am.” Evan once again spoke with clarity, not regret.

  “So what do you think?” Jessie implored, hoping there would be no additional costs to getting the place in shape.

  “Let me take a look at the loo.”

  Jessie pointed in the direction of the bathroom. There was only one, but it was a split bath. The tub and toilet were separated from the long double-bowl sink by an interior door, allowing for more privacy. There was also room for a tall linen cabinet on one side.

  After a little scrutiny, Evan said, “You might want to think about replacing the light fixtures, but a couple of coats of paint should be fine for up here.”

  Jessie was relieved that this part wasn’t going to cost much. “What about the deck?”

  “A good power wash should do the trick.”

  “We still have to check the basement. Uncle Hugo kept a lot of records down there.”

  “Lead the way.” Evan appeared to be easygoing, with a healthy dose of self-confidence.

  A quick inspection revealed that the foundation was solid: no leaks, no mold. “Maybe have Servpro come in and give it a good cleaning. But otherwise, there’s nothing I need to do down here.”

  As they returned to the main level, Jessie was feeling some anxiety. She wasn’t sure if it was being around him or the impending cost. “Any idea what this is going to run?”

  “Everyone asks the same question before I pull out the calculator.” He grinned. “This isn’t too complicated. You have approximately twenty-three hundred square feet on the first level. Should take me a day or so to write it up. You said you were leaving tomorrow?”

  “Yes, but I’ll be back the week before Christmas and staying through New Year’s. The office closes for a few days during the holidays, and I have some extra vacation days I have to use up.”

  “I have my son for the week, so I wouldn’t be able to do any work until after the first of the year.” Evan was hoping that wouldn’t be a deal breaker.

  “Oh, no problem. My original plan was to pack everything up, but Rosemary and I concocted an idea to have a holiday book giveaway party, where people can come and take whatever they want.” She was feeling more lighthearted again. “My goal is to get it on the market by end of February.”

  “That should be plenty of time, unless we find some hidden disasters.” Seeing the shocked look on Jessie’s face, he continued, “But I don’t expect to. These buildings were built to last.”

  “Whew. I was thinking about that Property Brothers show, where they have to tell the owners they need a new retaining wall for twenty grand!”

  “Yeah, that kind of news is never fun to deliver, especially if you’re a reputable contractor—you don’t want to profit on someone else’s misfortune.” Evan let another side of his personality show—decency.

  “Will you be around during the holidays or are you planning on taking your son to someplace fun and warm?” She was trying not to sound like she was giving him the third degree.

  “This year, we’re staying local. My parents are coming up from Myrtle Beach to visit my sister in Troy, just outside of Albany. She and I decided to split their travel expenses to make it easier for us, actually. She has three kids, and I have Connor. Lots of moving parts. It’s just over two hours by car, and they’ll stop by to see some of their friends who haven’t become snowbirds.” Again—that alluring smile.

  “I hope you and your son can come to the party. Maybe he can snag some books for his school library. You’re welcome to bring a date.” She tried to hide her mortification. To be sure, since she had started the radio gig, she had learned to cut to the chase, but this was bordering on ridiculous.

  “Date?” Evan raised an eyebrow. “Most women my age are either married or divorced with kids and don’t want any more, including only part-time.”

  “It’s funny. People don’t want to be alone, but they make up so many rules that it’s almost impossible to find someone to even think about having a relationship.”

  “Sounds like you have some experience in that arena.” He stopped writing and glanced up at her.

  Jessie was on high alert. She could not take the conversation any further for fear of revealing her radio persona. She’d rather keep that undercover.

  “Yeah. I seem to be an expert in ‘what not to do’ in that arena.” She giggled at her self-deprecating remark, then flashed him her most winning smile. A long pause hung in the air.

  “Well alrighty then! I’ll get this written up and send it to you. What’s your e-mail address?” He held out his massive hand with the pad and pen. “Thanks, Evan. You and Rosemary have been very helpful.” She jotted down all her contact information and handed the pad back to him.

  As she watched Evan stroll back to his truck, she realized that she had a great big smile on her face. She quickly turned back into the store, not wanting him to see her “teenage-like” moment. Huh. Who knew you could have a crush on someone at this age?

  Jessie pulled out her cell phone and dialed Lisa. “Hey! Got a lot accomplished. Ready to grab some dinner?”

  Lisa sounded excited. “You bet. Kenny and the kids are going bowling. Give me fifteen minutes to get them out the door! Meet you at the Pour House?”

  “Sounds good! I could use some comfort food and ale right now!”

  Chapter Three

  As Evan pulled out of the driveway, he was a little uneasy. But not in a bad way. The fact that she was very attractive had caught him off guard. He really didn’t know what to expect. Niece to a bookstore owner? She could have had that long-skirt-
granny-glasses look to her, but she didn’t. Slim jeans, sweater—which skimmed her toned body—and knee-high riding boots. No. This was no shrinking violet of a bookworm. She was a very attractive woman of purpose, charm, style, and magnetism. It had been a long time since he had been in the presence of a woman who was confident and in charge of herself, a woman not afraid to acknowledge her limitations and comfortable enlisting the assistance of others. No. She was different. She was special.

  Evan tapped his head with the pencil that often sat behind his ear. He didn’t want to allow his thoughts to wander any further. She lives almost three hours away, you don’t know her situation, and she is selling her property and getting the heck out of here. It’s a job. Business. Period. But still . . .

  With the prospect of finding a significant other seemingly out of reach, Evan had resigned himself to a life of being single, raising his son, and working. He liked to kayak, hike, and fish, activities that helped him relax and forget the loneliness that would set in from time to time. Yes, men get lonely, too. He remembered reading a short article in Men’s Health magazine. Dr. Somebody or Other. She was giving advice to the newly divorced and single. He had taken his son, Connor, to the dentist when he noticed the sidebar story as he sat in the waiting room. Evidently, there were a lot of people bemoaning the fact that life hadn’t turned out the way they had planned. He guessed it was the same thing that has plagued men for centuries: midlife crisis. This professor person was advising people to “try to find something to be passionate about—not necessarily through another person. A hobby? Sports? Cooking? Even gardening. Or challenge yourself to do that one thing you always wanted to do. At least you would have tried. Reclaim yourself. Once you do that, other people will be drawn to you. Loneliness can lead to depression, and that helps to create a vicious circle. Get out there! Do something!” Evan thought the article had some very sound advice. He recalled that when he had first gotten back to Croton, he was deflated and in a bit of a funk.