Renovating the Richardsons

by Virginia Smith

  “No, really.” Al spread his grin around the circle and settled it on Jerry. “We’re going to win. We have a new shortstop, and he’s good.”

  The rumble of an approaching motorcycle sounded in the air. Jerry barely glanced over his shoulder, his gaze fixed intently on Al.

  “We do? Who’d you find?”

  Al lifted a hand and pointed. “Him.”

  They all turned as Justin, with Susan behind him, pulled his bike to a stop and lowered the kickstand. They climbed off and removed their helmets.

  Jerry whipped back around, excitement flickering in his eyes. “You mean Justin?”

  “That’s right.” Al’s smile took on a measure of pride. “He’s moving in with Millie and me. We’ve arranged for him to do some repair work for us in exchange for rent.”

  “He was willing to do that?” Paul asked. “Move here from Frankfort just so he could play on our team for one game?”

  “Oh, I think he’s got another reason for moving to Goose Creek,” Cindie said, her gaze fixed on Justin, who was helping Susan out of her riding jacket.

  “The lease on his apartment over in Frankfort is a month-to-month deal. He has to give a two week notice, but he said he’ll go ahead and move this weekend to make it official.”

  When Al called Justin and presented the idea a couple of hours ago, he thought he’d have a tough job convincing him. Justin surprised him by agreeing immediately. Seemed he’d been considering a move to Goose Creek for some time.

  A hopeful gleam flickered in the mayor’s eyes. “With Justin at shortstop, we might pull this off after all.”

  Cindie marched across their circle and shoved her ball glove at Paul’s chest. “You can have centerfield back. I quit.”

  Laughing, Jerry hugged her. “I did promise you wouldn’t have to play if we found a replacement.”

  Their new shortstop and the town’s veterinarian approached the field, and the team turned toward them, applauding. A blush stained Justin’s cheeks, but Susan beamed. Apparently Justin’s girlfriend wasn’t opposed to having him live a bit closer.

  Jerry clapped Justin on the back and drew him in to their circle. “Listen,” he told the team, “let’s keep this quiet. I want to watch Theo’s face the first time he sees our team’s star player in action.”

  As practice officially began, Al glanced toward Millie. Surrounded on her quilt by the tousle-haired Wainright children, she gave him a nod of approval. Al congratulated himself. He’d come up with a way to help the softball team and help his wife achieve her repair goals and save his retirement fund a few dollars, all at the same time. Brilliance, that’s what it was. Sheer brilliance.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thomas pulled off the interstate on Friday afternoon and followed the curvy two-lane road toward Goose Creek. The air conditioner in the Lexus was working overtime to battle the combination of record-high temperatures and sunlight beating through the windshield. Only July first, and central Kentucky had already seen several days in the mid-nineties and humidity in the eighty-percent range. In spite of the cool air blowing on him, the collar of his golf shirt had stayed damp with sweat the whole way from Paducah.

  Or maybe it wasn’t the weather that made him damp under the collar. Three conversations awaited him in the little town where his daughter had settled. He was looking forward to only one of them.

  Ahead on the right, he spied the spiraling old house where Susan’s morning receptionist lived. Impressive, with all those peaks and that turret. The sprawling lawn appeared unkempt, though, desperately in need of attention. He slowed when he caught sight of a motorcycle parked on the cracked and broken pavement in the half-circle in front of the house. Hinkle’s. And at the end of the driveway a utility truck. Thomas was aware of the handyman work he’d been employed to do there, but last night on the phone Susan surprised him with news of the man’s intention to move to Goose Creek.

  The more he considered the arrangement, the less surprised Thomas was. A transparent maneuver to get close to his daughter. The young man had ingratiated himself with Susan’s receptionist and apparently a good portion of the town, judging by her account of the softball team’s excitement at the news. And now he would be living less than three miles away.

  Shrugging off the thought, Thomas slowed the car. Might as well get the first, and most distasteful, conversation over with immediately.

  He turned onto the Richardsons’ long driveway and parked his Lexus behind the motorcycle. Shiny and clean, he had to admit. Not a smudge on the paint nor a speck of dirt on the chrome. Turning toward the house, he scanned the multileveled roof. At that steep pitch, it must have been quite a job shingling that roof. And it looked immaculate. With grudging appreciation, he acknowledged that the job had been professionally accomplished.

  Voices drifted to him from the backyard, so Thomas headed in that direction. The utility truck, from which hung ladders, extension cords and various tools, bore a magnetic sign on the door: Hinkle the Handyman.

  When he rounded a pair of giant lilac bushes, Thomas spied the owner. Al, his name was. They’d met once or twice. The man stood in the shade of a tree, spraying the trunk with a hose. Though why he would water a huge tree like that, Thomas couldn’t imagine. The thing was obviously healthy, with a dense leafy canopy that towered into the sky. Didn’t the man know the roots on a tree this old were so far below ground that water from a hose would never reach them?

  He wrinkled his nose. And what was that terrible odor?

  A dog sleeping in a patch of sunlight caught sight of him and, barking, raced across the grass in his direction. Beagle mix, by the looks of it.

  “Oh, hello.” On the porch, Susan’s morning receptionist straightened from her work at some task on a patio table.

  “Hello.” He stooped to rub the dog’s head.

  Al turned off the sprayer and tossed the hose on the ground. “Jeffries, right?” He approached, offering a hand.

  “Thomas, please.” He resisted the urge to dry his hand on his trousers.

  Al laughed. “Sorry about that. Good day for yard work.”

  “Kind of hot,” Thomas said.

  From the porch, Millie asked, “Can I get you some iced tea or lemonade?”

  “No. I’m here to see Hinkle.” He glanced toward the house. “I saw his motorcycle out front. Is he here?”

  Curiosity overtook the woman’s features. “I’ll go get him.”

  Al stopped her as she turned. “Millie, maybe Thomas would like to talk to Justin privately.”

  Thomas shot him a grateful look.

  “Oh.” Clearly disappointed, Millie returned to the table. “Go on in. He’s in the parlor. Down the hallway to the left.”

  He entered the house through a pair of French doors, and as they closed behind him he heard her excited whisper: “What do you suppose he… ”

  Finding himself in a long dining room, he skirted an ornate table and exited on the other side. A voluminous entry hall rang with the pounding of a hammer. He paused a moment to gather his wits. He’d determined the necessity of this conversation a few days ago, and had been thinking about how it might go. A fresh sheen of sweat erupted on his neck, and he twitched at his collar to cool himself. Unpleasant though it might be, he’d best get it over with.

  He rounded the corner and entered the parlor.

  Hinkle stood with his back to the door holding a wooden frame against a piece of drywall with one hand and pounding a nail with the other. A fine sheen of dust covered his clothing and dark hair. With every strike of the hammer, a fresh puff of drywall dust danced into the air. An area rug had been rolled up and pushed to the side, and canvas drop cloths covered the furniture.

  When the nail was sunk, Thomas scuffed his foot to produce a sound.

  Hinkle turned. His eyes widened, then darkened with a wary concern. “Mr. Jeffries.” He set the hammer down, his gaze remaining on Thomas’s face, and snatched up a towel to wipe his hands. “I’m surprised to see you.”
>
  “I expect so.” Thomas didn’t intend to clip the words short. This conversation might prove more difficult than he’d anticipated.

  “You want to sit down?” Hinkle lunged across the room and whipped the canvas off of a sofa.

  Thomas waved aside the offer. “We won’t be long. I came to ask your help with something.”

  The young man stopped in the act of folding the canvas. “Okay.”

  “I have a… friend who needs some work done. I’m helping her put together a business plan, and we need an estimate on the repairs. Would you be willing to give us a hand? It might lead to a job, if your estimate is reasonable.”

  The young man’s eyes narrowed, and he thought for a moment before answering. “Is this job in Paducah?”

  The reason for his caution became clear. He suspected Thomas of trying to lure him out of town and away from Susan. A logical conclusion, and not a bad idea if Thomas had thought of it a few months ago.

  “No, it’s here. In Goose Creek. The work is to be done on a building on Main Street, where my friend is opening her establishment.”

  “Oh.” Clearly confused, and still more than a little cautious, Hinkle gave a slow nod. “Sure. I’ll be happy to do that for you.”

  “Fine.” Thomas nodded and extracted a folded paper from his pocket. “I have a list of the necessary repairs.” He shifted his weight. Now came the difficult part of the conversation. “I want to talk to you about something else as well. Susan.”

  Now the boy’s suspicion came to the fore. His expression closed over, stubbornness easily seen in his rigid stance. “Go ahead.”

  “She tells me she’s grown”—he cleared his throat—“quite fond of you.”

  “I’m quite fond of her too.”

  “Yes, well, you should understand something about Susan.” The words of his rehearsed speech rolled off his tongue. “I know my opinion is biased, but I think she’s highly intelligent and hardworking, and she has an innate desire to achieve that will enable her to succeed at whatever she dedicates herself to.”

  The corners of Hinkle’s mouth twitched the slightest bit. “She’s also compassionate and understanding and beautiful.”

  “Those too.” At least they agreed on Susan’s virtues. “On the other hand, she’s easily distracted, not very organized, and lacks experience.”

  Now he did smile. “That’s part of her charm.”

  “Plus, she’s dismal at managing her finances.”

  “She doesn’t need to, does she?” Hinkle dipped his head forward. “She has you for that.”

  Unable to bear looking into the face of the man who had stolen his daughter from him, Thomas paced to the bay window. He clasped his hands behind his back, staring outside with unseeing eyes. Time to stop thinking in those terms. He spoke the words he’d dreaded for days.

  “That has become a problem. As long as she has me directing her, she won’t develop those skills.”

  In the long silence that followed, Thomas fought the urge to turn around and see Hinkle’s face.

  “Are you saying you’ve changed your mind about moving to Goose Creek?” he finally asked.

  “I have. I think it’s in my daughter’s best interest if I stay where I am. Not that I will pull my support,” he hurried to say. Let there be no mistake about that. “I’ll be available whenever she needs me. Just… ” He filled his lungs with a slow breath. “From a distance.”

  No sound from behind for so long that Thomas finally did glance over his shoulder. Hinkle stood stock-still, confusion still clear on his face. Confusion and something else. A flicker of understanding, perhaps.

  “I’m sure that wasn’t an easy decision,” he finally said.

  “It was not.” Thomas struggled to keep his tone even. “And the only reason I feel comfortable making it is… ” His throat went dry. “Because of you.”

  “Me?”

  Nodding, Thomas turned to face the young man. “I’ve conducted some discreet research into your business.” Hinkle’s eyebrows arched. Thomas straightened his spine, unashamed. What decent father wouldn’t use every available resource to protect his daughter’s welfare? “Your business plan is solid, your financial structure stable. Your references are admirable. On paper you exhibit many of the qualities Susan lacks.”

  Hinkle shook his head. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  “That you can help her in the areas where she needs help. Where she lacks experience, you can support her. Help her grow. And perhaps she has qualities that will benefit you as well. In other words, your skills complement each other’s.”

  Silence stretched between them. The young man’s eyes unfocused as he processed the information Thomas had given him.

  “Nobody will ever take your place in Susan’s life,” he finally said, his voice soft.

  Thomas lifted his nose in the air. “Of course not. She’ll always be my little girl.” Then he ducked his head. “But maybe it’s time she learned how to be an adult.”

  Another long silence, and finally Hinkle nodded. “I understand. In that case, sir, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” He gestured toward the sofa. “You might want to sit down for this.”

  Thomas recognized the look on Hinkle’s face, though he had not seen it in quite a while and never in the current context. A dreaded sense of the inevitable settled over him, and he took a seat.

  Thomas looked forward to his next conversation with far more enthusiasm. He parked the Lexus at the curb in front of Tuesday’s house and, picking up a folder from the passenger seat, approached the porch. The front door opened as his foot touched the step.

  Tuesday beamed at him. “I wondered if you were going to call and cancel today. Our appointment was for half an hour ago.”

  The door swung wide and she invited him inside with a gesture. Today she looked even more bohemian than usual, with purple toenails, a pair of jeans cropped at the calf, and a loose-fitting tunic that looked as if a flower show had exploded in her vicinity. She had made an effort to tame her wild curls by twisting them into a pair of braids that swung halfway down her arms.

  “My last appointment took longer than anticipated,” he explained as she shut the door behind him. “Am I too late for a massage? Do you have another appointment after mine?”

  Her eyes rolled expansively. “Puh-leease. You’re the only one who’s been on my bed since I moved to town.”

  He hid a wince. If she wanted to succeed in a conservative town like Goose Creek, she really needed to take care in selecting her words. They’d work on that later.

  “That’s about to change.” He extended the folder. “Here’s your business plan. There are still a few holes, such as the cost of building repairs, but that’s coming.”

  “Ooh, this is so exciting.”

  Taking the folder, she planted herself on the sofa, her legs contorted into a pretzel-like arrangement at which Thomas could only marvel. There may have been a time when his limbs moved like that, but he couldn’t remember. A tickle of anticipation erupted as he watched her open the folder, reminiscent of the feeling he experienced when Susan came down the stairs on Christmas morning for her first glimpse of the gifts piled beneath the tree.

  Tuesday looked up, eyes round and sparkling. “This is an amazing idea. Why didn’t I think of it?”

  Unable to suppress a grin, he shrugged. “Sometimes it takes a second pair of eyes. And in this case, a thorough investigation of the customer base.”

  She flipped over a page, and then another. “I could never have put together something like this.” Gratitude shone in the gaze she lifted to him. “You really are good at this stuff, Thomas.”

  He accepted the compliment with a nod. “And you’re talented at what you do. As you said last week, we make a good team. And I took the liberty of showing your plan to a couple of my coworkers at the bank. They agreed that this is a financial investment they’d be comfortable approving. So before you make a decision on a lender, we’ll do
some comparison shopping.”

  With a loud squeal she launched herself off the cushion and flew across the room. Thomas was nearly bowled over when she threw her arms around him and hugged with surprising strength.

  “Oh. Sorry.” She stepped back and tugged the hem of her tunic to straighten it. “No hanky-panky between business partners. Now, you go on in there and strip down, and I’ll work you over like you’ve never seen, baby!”

  Shaking his head, Thomas headed down the hall. They really needed to focus on her conversation skills.

  Ninety minutes later he pulled the Lexus into the parking lot of the Goose Creek Animal Clinic and sat for a moment with his hands on the steering wheel. Now came the final conversation of the day, the one that would prove to be the most emotional. More difficult even than talking to Hinkle. Thomas did not enjoy the taste of crow, and he was about to fill his plate with a large helping.

  Inside he found the waiting room empty and the afternoon receptionist clearing her desk.

  She fixed a hesitant smile on him. “Hello, Mr. Jeffries.”

  An improvement, since the first few times he’d encountered the woman she had been too shy to speak. Perhaps she was gaining confidence.

  “Good afternoon. Alice, is it?”

  The smile blossomed. “That’s right. Your daughter is in exam room one with the last patient of the day. Did you want me to print off the weekly accounting report so you can look it over while you wait?”

  Though that was the task he typically performed when he arrived, today’s visit was anything but typical. He shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll wait in her office.” He took a step in that direction, and then stopped. “Um, have a nice holiday weekend, Alice.”

  “You too, Mr. Jeffries. Will you be at the ballgame on Monday?”

  “Oh yes. Most certainly.” That was one game he could not afford to miss.

  “I’ll see you then.”

  The small confines of the clinic office were not conducive to pacing, but he managed to stride from the wall to the door several times before Susan entered.