After that, she’d fully expected him to be on his way, but instead he reminded her that the area—as well as her home office, which lay off the kitchen—was mostly going to be off limits for some time. So then he went about the business of helping her rearrange her family room.
They worked seamlessly together as if they’d been doing it all their lives, moving her antique writing desk from her home office to the family room so she’d have a spot to work from. Daniel even brought in a small refrigerator, left over from Amy’s college days, from the garage and placed it at the edge of the family room so Liz could have easy access to a few drinks and fruit.
At that point, once again Liz thought he’d say his good-byes. But instead, they stood for another hour talking about her dream kitchen. All the while, Daniel made suggestions about how she could get close to fulfilling that dream, seeming as interested in the project as if it were his own property.
“But, Daniel—” she looked up at him—“I’m sure you have other clients and other projects. I’m sure you need to figure out a work schedule for yourself.”
How could the man work without a schedule? She certainly couldn’t.
“Look, Liz.” His eyes narrowed with kind concern as he spoke to her. “You strike me as a bright and capable woman. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s right for you and your finances. Actually, you probably already know what’s best. You just need to trust yourself and your decision more. So, first things first. Let’s get started on today. And let’s see how it goes from there.”
“But I . . .” She was so taken aback by his words she could barely find any of her own. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had complimented her that way. And it especially meant a lot coming from someone like Daniel.
The moment she’d met him at his shop she’d seen what an accomplished and successful craftsman he was. Beyond that, she’d also readily sensed that he was an upstanding, kindhearted man.
With just the bolster she needed, she squared her shoulders. “I, uh . . . Okay then. I’ll let you know about things as soon as I can, Daniel.”
“I know you will.” He leaned his head to one side. “Now if that’s all you wanted to talk about, Liz, I should probably get the day started. Like my Amish ancestors would always say, ‘Planning your work is important, but doing it is better.’” He smiled.
She hadn’t heard that particular maxim before, but she had to muse at the truth in it. As Daniel made his way to his truck, she knew she had to get started on her day too, and all the decisions that were going to come with it.
But as Daniel had also just said—first things first. For her, that meant taking a few minutes to enjoy her treat from him.
Setting down the coffee cup on her desk, she peeked inside the bakery bag and couldn’t believe what she saw. A morning glory muffin. Of course Daniel couldn’t have known it was her very favorite. And of course he’d never know how he’d made her smile once again that morning.
Thankfully the route to the bank was a familiar one because Liz could barely keep her mind on her driving. Instead, her thoughts volleyed back and forth between comforting memories of the past and the realities of the present.
Undoubtedly, she’d been luckier than many women. She’d been quite spoiled in her marriage. Not that she didn’t always work hard, whether it was inside or outside their home. Not that Karl treated her like a china doll and tried to protect her from everything.
No, she was fortunate because for decades she’d had a true and loving partner. Someone she shared everything with. The ups and downs of life, all the good times and all the bad. And whenever there was a decision to be made, she and Karl would discuss the pros and cons of the situation and come to a resolution together. They also had each other to rely on when it came time to celebrate—or weather—the outcomes of their decisions.
And although Karl had been gone for years, she still missed that. Still wasn’t keen on making decisions all on her own. Certainly, she always took time to garner as much information as she could from as many professionals as she could. But when it came time to decide on something, ultimately it was all up to her. And no one else.
Which was stressful at times. Especially when it came to money issues.
Obviously, she didn’t know Daniel well enough to fully discuss her finances, or her lack thereof, with him. But in a strange way, simply hearing his vote of confidence echo in her mind and recalling his reaffirming statement about her capabilities released a sense of calm inside her. So that the closer she got to the bank, the more clearly she could assess her options. And by the time she pulled into the institution’s parking lot, she’d made a decision to go with the line of credit. Daniel was right. Her gut instinct had been to go that route since the very beginning, thinking she’d only use small amounts of the funds as she could afford to.
Less than an hour later, all the financial papers were completed. The autumn air didn’t seem quite as chilly as she left the bank and walked to the rear parking lot. She felt lighter, at peace with her decision, and momentarily at peace with herself. And there was no doubt why. It was because of Daniel, who with one insightful comment had helped her feel especially confident.
She warmed, thinking of her new acquaintance. Reflecting on his thoughtfulness. His encouragement. And the muffin from Good for the Soul, which brought an even wider grin to her face. If only she could thank him in the best way she knew how: cooking, of course. But how could she cook something special for her handyman with her kitchen out of commission?
No sooner had the question crossed her thoughts than the answer came in a flash. Excited by the possibility, she practically skipped to her car, got in, and pulled her phone from her purse.
“Hey, Jessica,” she said in a rush the moment her friend answered. “Can I stop by and use one of your cutting boards?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You just want to use a cutting board?” Understandably, Jessica sounded puzzled.
“Well, that and a mixing bowl. Also a skillet. Oh, and do you know if you have a wee bit of Worcestershire sauce I can borrow?” Liz’s mind rifled through the list of items she’d need.
“Borrow?” Jessica raised an eyebrow.
“Well . . . use.”
“Liz, my kitchen is your kitchen,” Jessica said graciously. “Although if I were you and had a kitchen out of commission, I’d use it as an excuse not to cook. But I know that’s nearly impossible for you, Betty C.” She took a breath before adding, “You missed your calling, you know.”
It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to her. Liz was never sure if she was supposed to feel glad that someone thought she had a calling or sad that she’d supposedly missed it. But no time to dwell on that now.
“I’m going to stop at the office for a couple of hours, and then can I come by?” Liz started the car, looking left and right and to the rear before backing out of the parking space.
“Sounds good. Lydia and I will see you when you get here,” Jessica replied.
With a semblance of a plan in place, Liz stopped by the Regency office, hoping to make some calls that might drum up new business. But after a few hours without much luck, she left, wanting to keep her prior good mood intact. Plus, she wanted to think about happier things, like cooking for Daniel. After a quick stop at the grocery for ground turkey, buns, and produce, she made her way across town to the Cottage.
True, being at Jessica’s wasn’t the same as being at home in her own kitchen. But she readily found all the utensils and spices she needed along with her rhythm. She was chopping away at onions and red peppers when Jessica and Lydia took a minute from the shop to come up and visit.
“What are you making there?” Lydia peered over her shoulder.
“My special turkey burgers.”
“Ahh . . .” Jessica nodded to the piles of red and white on the cutting board. “How many burgers are you planning to make? Enough for your entire street?” she kidded.
“Only four
,” Liz replied, holding her breath, anticipating the questions her friends would have next.
“Four, huh? Are you freezing them? Are they all for you?”
“No.” She gave an honest, one-syllable answer. But knew it wouldn’t suffice.
“Who are they for, then?” Jessica prodded with a smile.
Liz kept focused on her chopping and answered as casually as she could, “Daniel.”
“Your handyman?” Jessica acted shocked.
“Jonas’s uncle?” Lydia sounded surprised.
“Only he’s really not like Jonas’s uncle, but then he is.”
Jessica and Lydia exchanged puzzled glances, and Liz found herself anxious to explain.
“What I mean is, Daniel isn’t Amish, but he still has so many wonderful Amish characteristics.”
“Well, that’s mighty nice of you to say.” Lydia smiled.
“It is surprising he’s not Amish.” Jessica stole a sliver of red pepper from the cutting board and crunched into it. “And you’re making him burgers because—? Is his kitchen out of commission too?”
Again Lydia and Jessica traded glimpses, their eyes twinkling all the while.
Surprising to herself, Liz could feel her cheeks heat as she tried to decide how to answer. Should she tell her friends about his compliments and his help with her financial decision? Or make things simpler than that? She chose the latter scenario. “Well, because he brought me a muffin.”
Suddenly Jessica coughed, choking on the piece of red pepper. And coughed some more.
Liz hurried over to the cupboard, pulled out a glass, and filled it with tap water. She handed the glass to Jessica, who hacked a few more times before she was able to take a drink. It was a long minute before all seemed right with her.
“Are you okay?” Liz asked.
“I think so.” Jessica lifted her chin, cleared her throat. “But oh my goodness, Liz, what about you and your handyman? It sounds serious already.”
“You’re a funny one, Jess.” Liz waved a hand. “I barely know Daniel.”
“And yet . . . you are feeding each other,” Lydia needled with a sparkle in her eye.
“We are not really feeding each other. He made a kind gesture, and now I’m returning that kind gesture. And it’s different with him, anyway, since he’s related to your neighbor, Lydia. I feel like I already know him. As a friend.”
“Uh-huh. Don’t try to explain your way out of this, Liz,” Jessica teased.
“There’s nothing to explain.” Liz opened the package of ground turkey, put it in a large bowl, and started to add the minced onions and diced peppers.
“Whatever you say. Whatever you say.” Jessica chuckled to herself, and Liz felt her face grow warm again at the girls’ unspoken implications. Which was silly. But somewhat understandable. After all, there’d always only been Karl. She hadn’t had a male friend since she was a teenager.
“If you’re worried about me coming over and cooking here some more, you don’t need to be. I’m thinking about buying a hibachi.”
“A hibachi, huh? At this time of year?”
“I don’t know. I’m just thinking about it. They’re not expensive, and I could make it an early Christmas present for myself.”
“And you could also make kebabs for you and—”
Liz interrupted before Jessica could say Daniel’s name. “Don’t you two have a shop to run?”
“We’re going; we’re going.” Jessica linked her arm through Lydia’s.
But even when Jessica and Lydia headed back downstairs and Liz was left alone with her thoughts, she could feel herself flushing all over again.
It was late afternoon before Liz arrived back home, her car filled with the scent of turkey burgers and sweet potato fries. She was relieved to see Daniel’s truck still parked in front of the house. It would’ve been a letdown to impose on Jessica—although she could tell Jessica and Lydia had enjoyed her impromptu visit—only to have him already gone.
Daisy’s tail wagged vivaciously in greeting, though Liz was certain the pup was more eager to sniff the plastic bags full of containers of food than to see her. After setting the bags high up on a bookshelf out of Daisy’s reach, she coaxed her forever pup outside to do her business, then came in and studied the plastic sheets covering both entrances to her kitchen.
She imagined the sheets had been see-through and clear of debris when Daniel had started his work that morning. Now they were streaked with white like a smudge-filled chalkboard. So clouded with whiteness that she could barely make out his frame on the other side. She literally jumped inches when he suddenly pulled back the plastic curtain.
“Oh!” she gasped. Her hands flew up.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He pulled down a pair of dust-covered goggles from his eyes, letting them dangle around his neck. “I thought I heard something.”
“You did. Me.” She grinned. “How are things going in there?”
Lines crinkled at the sides of his eyes as he smiled back at her. “Actually I just finished for the day. Want to see?”
“I’m sure it looks like something out of the blitzkrieg.”
“Slightly.” He drew back the curtain to a sight that looked nothing like her kitchen at all, with an exposed ceiling, chunks of white piled in the corner, more plastic covering, and snow-like dust settled virtually everywhere and on everything.
“Wow. You’ve got your work cut out for you, huh?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“That’s good because it looks horrendous,” she said as he eased the curtain back into place. “Did Daisy give you any trouble while I was gone?”
“None at all. She’s a great girl,” he said as he tugged the now-familiar-looking bandanna from his back pocket to swipe his face.
“You still have some up there.” She pointed to his hairline. “It’s all white.”
“That’s my hair.”
“Oh, it is not.” She laughed. She’d never noticed any white and had barely seen any gray in his dark hair. Just a few lighter, distinguished patches at his temples.
“I think I know where I’m going to spend the evening.”
She looked up at him, questioningly.
“In the shower.” He glanced down at his clothes, covered in plaster dust. “In fact, I need to get out of here now, or I’m going to get this stuff all over your entryway and family room too. I’ll just be leaving my tools and equipment in the kitchen if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine. Oh!” She held up a finger. “One more thing.” She stepped over to the bookshelves to retrieve the bags of food. “I have something for you.” She handed one of the bags to him. “A bite to eat.”
“Jah? Really? Dinner?” His words rang with pleasure. He stuffed the kerchief back in his pocket before taking the bag from her.
“Well . . .” She shrugged as casually as she could. “I was cooking dinner at a friend’s house, and it wasn’t a problem to make a little extra,” she said, using his same logic from the morning.
“It smells good, whatever it is. I appreciate it, thanks.”
“No problem.”
“So I’ll be back tomorrow, then.” He dipped his splotchy white head.
“Sounds good.” She smiled and walked him to the door, realizing how much she was starting to look forward to her handyman’s visits.
“Oh!” He was halfway out the door when he stopped and turned around. “We don’t have to talk specifics right now, but overall how did things go at the bank today?”
“They went well.”
“See, I told you,” he replied. Did she see a glint of admiration in his eyes? “I had no doubt you’d get it all figured out the way you needed to, Liz.”
“Thank you, Daniel,” she said simply. Although as she closed the door behind him, she wished she would’ve said more. Said what she also hadn’t mentioned to Jessica and Lydia. She wished she could’ve told him how much his words had meant. How good it felt to feel like the
re was someone on her side again.
And how she wished he’d stayed to eat dinner with her.
“COLE, COULD YOU GET THE DOOR, please?” Jessica called out to her son.
She was just in the process of adding the last batch of ghost-shaped cookies to the tin she’d been filling for the Creepy Carnival when the doorbell rang. Knowing it had to be Derek, her cheeks grew as warm as the baking sheet in her hand.
She couldn’t remember her cheeks tingling years ago when Derek would come knocking on her door, but they sure did now. Actually, every time a thought of Derek had run across her mind throughout the week, she’d reacted the same way.
Trying to shake off the feeling, she glanced into the family room where Cole had been patiently watching cartoons, waiting for the day’s festivities to get under way. Sure enough, he’d heard her request. He’d already flipped his Spider-Man mask over his face and bolted for the front door, his red-webbed superhero shoe covers muting the sound of his sneakers.
“Wow! It’s Spider-Man!” Derek did a great job of sounding genuinely surprised and taken aback when Cole opened the door. “Sorry to bother you, Spider-Man. I must be at the wrong house. I’m looking for Cole Holtz.”
“It is me.” Her son gave a muffled giggle from under his mask, the sound of it making Jessica smile. “I’m him.” More muffles. “Cole.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Jessica closed the lid on the tin and stepped into the family room, watching as Derek leaned down for a closer look at Cole. Shifting to the left. Then to the right. Hemming and hawing all the while he was scrutinizing her son. She had to cover her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back her laughter over his spot-on theatrics.
Finally, Cole lifted his mask.
“Oh, you’re right.” Derek jumped back, flinging his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “It is you.”
“I told you it was.” Cole playfully swiped at Derek’s leg, but Derek was quick with his hand to deflect the blow.
The Sisters of Sugarcreek Page 15