How Sweet It is

by Sophie Gunn

  Then, there was something else. Something even more disturbing. A nagging discomfort starting as an itching at her palms, then blooming into a heat on her cheeks. She knew that feeling so well, even if she hadn’t felt it in a long, long time.

  It was shame.

  He—or whoever sent him—felt sorry for her.

  He was here out of charity.

  She said, “You have to go. I don’t accept charity, even if in a moment of weakness, I wished for it.”

  He nodded. “I get that. And I know this sounds strange, but this isn’t about you. I happen to have some free time. I happen to be stuck in this town for a little while. And I happen to be pretty decent with a screwdriver.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Plus, not that it matters to either of us, believe me on this one, but coincidentally, I happen to be a man.”

  Like she could have missed that little detail. Was this guy for real? Why was her mouth so dry? “How did you know where I live?”

  “Destiny?” he suggested, just the slightest flash of humor in his eyes. He looked around at her house and yard, his eyes lingering on points of particular decay.

  Oh.

  The wooden picket fence had gone gray and flaky, slanting in the middle like a row of dominoes that had frozen halfway to falling. What bricks remained in the walk seemed held against their will by the world’s healthiest dandelions. The porch was riddled with wood-bee holes, its paint peeling. The driveway was overrun with weeds and potholes. The gutters were hanging loose. Worst of all, every other house on the shady, suburban street was pristine in the early morning light.

  It wasn’t that Lizzie didn’t care. Her house was worth more than she liked to contemplate. But after years of trying to keep up with the constant repairs, she had started to slip. First little things cropped up, like a brick coming loose here and there. But soon, they added up until they seemed insurmountable and she didn’t know where to begin.

  She hadn’t meant it to be this way. Her parents had bought the house for a pittance when she was three and the market had been in a slump. Her father had fixed it up; it had suffered years of neglect at the hands of the alcohol-addled previous tenant, Georgie Lutz. Then, when her parents died ten years ago, they left the house to Lizzie and Paige, the mortgage long ago paid off. After all, she had Paige to look after alone with only her diner job to support her.

  Owning the house straight-out made her and Paige’s precarious life possible. Lizzie made just enough to cover their bills and taxes, and to put something away for Paige’s college account. So maybe her house was gradually falling apart around her. Small price to pay for a life that was otherwise working out just fine.

  At least, she had thought it was fine, until that letter…

  The sun had almost cleared the purple-pink clouds, and Lizzie could see Tay better in the pale, tinted light. He didn’t look quite as ominous with the sky opening up behind him, but where were the birds? She looked to her silent feeders.

  Odd.

  Dante Giovanni gathered his tools. He picked up the toolbox and started down the sidewalk toward a broken-down red pickup truck parked at the curb. The dog picked up his tennis ball and trotted after him. A white cat stood on the passenger seat watching them approach through the lowered passenger-side window, its front paws on the door, its huge, yellow, glowing eyes tracking them with a steady stare identical to Tay’s.

  Lizzie looked back to her bird feeders. No wonder it was so silent. Usually this early, predawn hour was the time the birds were most active. But even the bossy blue jays had gone into hiding. At least the birds were smart enough to understand when a predator was near.

  “Wait. Come back here, Mr. Giovanni.” She marched after him to the truck. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the curtains part across the street, the shadow of Judy Roth silhouetted behind them.

  One problem with buying on the cheap, then holding on for dear life, was that Lizzie and Paige fit into this proper, maple-lined, college-town street like a pair of pink plastic flamingos. All she needed now was old, widowed, busybody Mrs. Roth coming out here in her plaid robe and blue curlers to learn about Lizzie’s freebie, wish-come-true handyman. She’d be delighted to tell the whole town about the latest disgrace at 47 Pine Tree Road.

  Lizzie waved at her elderly neighbor. “Hi, Mrs. Roth! Everything’s fine! Just a stalker from the diner!” Mrs. Roth was stone-cold deaf. She waved happily, the curtains fell back into place, and the shadow receded.

  Thank goodness. Lizzie didn’t need gossip. She didn’t want to cause this guy any trouble. He seemed nice enough, and whatever the Enemy Club had put him up to, it wasn’t really his fault. She just wanted him and his animals gone. She’d figure out how to fix the place herself.

  He hoisted his toolbox into the back of his truck, then opened the passenger door. “Well?” he asked the cat. He waited a few moments, as if hoping the cat would leave. Then he sighed, shut the door, and walked around the truck to the driver’s side. The dog hopped in with him, then moved to the passenger’s window. The cat jumped into Tay’s lap, nuzzled his cheek, then looked at Lizzie with curiosity, as if it was odd that she was here, not at all odd that they were.

  “Mr. Giovanni.” Lizzie leaned in through the dog’s lowered window. The three of them watched her as if she were talking equally to them all. “If you’re being honest and you’re here to grant my wish, which I don’t believe, by the way, then I’m sorry, but that’s too creepy for words. And if Jill or Georgia or Nina sent you, you tell them it’s hilarious and now back off. I don’t need or accept charity from anyone. Not from you and especially not from them.”

  He waited patiently as the truck sputtered reluctantly to life. Once the motor had caught and had quieted to an uncertain idle, he asked, “Why do you wish for what you don’t want?”

  She couldn’t answer. She’d wished for help when she couldn’t abide it. She’d wished for Paige to leave when the last thing she could survive in this world was Paige leaving.

  “Don’t come back,” she said as firmly as she could, more to herself than to him.

  “Now, how do I know if that’s what you want or just what you’re saying?” he asked in a friendly casual way, as if they’d known each other forever, as if they had something deep and important in common and had come to some kind of agreement long ago. “See you around.”

  And then Tay Giovanni, whoever he was, drove away without waiting for an answer.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Lizzie watched the truck rumble slowly down her street, then come to a halt at the stop sign at the end of her block. The truck sat a long moment, as if Tay was unsure which way to go. Maybe he fell asleep at the wheel? Maybe he’d had a heart attack? Just as Lizzie was getting genuinely concerned, the turn signal blinked on. And on. And on. Finally, the truck swung left, down the steep hill that led to town. He was not a speed demon. Which boded well for him in bed…

  Oh, for Lord’s sake! After fourteen years of hardly a second date, Lizzie was not going to fall for the mysterious stranger who appeared at her gate no matter how handsome and, well, downright considerate he was.

  He had been awfully considerate.

  And he had a cute dog.

  And the cat had seemed to think he was okay, even if Lizzie wasn’t one for cats. She spent too much time feeding the birds to abide a cat strolling around.

  And he was her wish come true.

  But it felt all wrong. As he had pointed out, she had wished for something that she didn’t want, which was unsettling, as if it pointed to a bigger problem, one that she was in no mood to face.

  So she woke Paige and acted as if nothing at all had happened. She waited until just after Paige had left for school, and then she did what she always did when she didn’t know what else to do. She called her sister, Annie and her brother-in-law, Tommy. Ever since Annie and Tommy had their baby six months ago, Lizzie could count on them to be up early. She hoped Tommy, who was one of Galton’s twelve policemen, hadn’t left
yet for work.

  Tommy answered the phone. Lizzie felt a twinge of relief that it wasn’t Annie, relief that was quickly replaced with guilt for not wanting to talk to her only sister. Annie had been so depressed lately, she was getting hard to talk to. Which of course was why Lizzie should reach out and talk to Annie more. And she had tried. But Annie had started getting hostile toward Lizzie lately, her depression transforming into anger whenever Lizzie was near. It was too early in the morning for a fight.

  After she’d told Tommy the whole story, he said, “I should arrest your fence, not the man who fixes it. That thing is a crime the way it’s falling down.”

  “You’re not going to do anything?” Lizzie demanded. “What kind of cop are you? What if the Enemy Club didn’t send him? Then how did he get here? He might have followed me home! I’m terrified. He knew my name.” She could hear Annie in the background, calling Tommy to help her sweep up the Cheerios Meghan had flung to the floor.

  “You? Terrified? I don’t believe it. When have you ever been scared of anything? Liz, you went out alone in the near dark and talked to him.”

  “Okay, I wasn’t exactly terrified. But I am furious. He was trespassing. It was very presumptuous.”

  “Okay,” Tommy admitted. “You’re right. It is a little odd. But he’s gone, right? You’re safe? No harm, no foul.”

  Lizzie heard Annie ask him what was odd and who was gone and Tommy explained the whole situation and Annie said loud enough for Lizzie to hear, “Let Tommy off the phone, I need him. And let that man fix Mom and Dad’s house!”

  “It’s my house!” Lizzie said quietly, dreading this fight. Annie had it all, great husband, beautiful baby; she even used to have a great job as a librarian at the public library downtown before she left to take care of Meghan. And yet, Lizzie felt for her sister. She was obviously struggling with the new baby, which Lizzie understood more than anyone could. Still, Lizzie wished Annie wouldn’t take it out on her.

  “You want me to come over? Drive you to work before my shift starts?” Tommy asked.

  Annie picked up the extension. Lizzie imagined them in the same room, each holding a phone, glaring at each other. Lizzie could feel the tension from her house a mile away. “Don’t leave. I still need a shower, Tommy!”

  Lizzie backed off. “No. No. Forget it. It’s okay. The guy’s gone. I’m fine. I just wanted someone to know what happened this morning, so if I disappear, you know to start searching for my body. I shouldn’t have called. I can deal with this myself if he shows up again.”

  Annie said, “Good. That’s my Lizzie. Tommy, I’m getting in the shower.” The extension clicked dead.

  “I’ll look out for him today around town, okay?” Tommy said. “Red Chevy, you said? What year about?”

  Meghan started to shriek in the background.

  “Tommy!” Annie called, her voice shrill. “Get her! Please? I’m in the bathroom!” A door slammed.

  “No. Really,” Lizzie said. “Forget it. I’m fine. I’ve gotta get to work. I’ll call Joy to pick me up on her way in so I don’t have to walk alone.” Lizzie felt guilty for butting into her sister and brother-in-law’s domestic morning chaos, but she also felt angry that Annie made her feel guilty by constantly dragging up their past.

  Lizzie had dated Tommy for a few months in high school, right before Ethan came along. It was nothing. They had barely kissed, much less slept together. But the last few months, Annie kept bringing it up. Just last week, she had even said that she thought Tommy sometimes acted as if he had chosen the “wrong” sister. It made Lizzie feel two inches tall.

  “We still on for Friday night?” Tommy asked. “Oooh, don’t eat the phone, honey.”

  Lizzie could hear Meghan snuffling the receiver. “Burgers and dogs?” Lizzie asked.

  “What else?” Tommy said, his voice rising to be heard over Meghan, who had started to sing, Baaaa baaa baaaa Baaa…

  “Why don’t you guys come here for a change? You sound tired.” She and Paige had eaten at Tommy and Annie’s every Friday night since forever.

  Tommy said, “No way. I still have propane in the tank.” Tommy was famous for using every last gasp of the summer’s gas from the grill, even if he had to grill in the snow in his parka.

  “All right. If that’s really what you want,” Lizzie said. She knew that Tommy insisted because he didn’t want to upset Annie by changing anything without her permission, but she let it slide. He was dealing not just with a new baby, but with Annie’s depression, and Lizzie knew it wasn’t easy.

  As if Tommy could read her mind, he said, “Thanks, Liz. Every little thing sets her off.”

  “I wish I could help more. I just don’t know what to do. She gets angry with me all the time. I find myself running the other way when I see her coming.” Guilt ate at Lizzie.

  He said, “She won’t talk to anyone. We just have to hope she’ll get through this. And meanwhile, damage control. We eat here.”

  After hanging up the phone, a bad taste lingered in Lizzie’s mouth. She knew her sister’s moods were about the baby and not about her, but still, the coldness stung. Postpartum depression, Georgia had diagnosed. But Annie wouldn’t hear any of that. She insisted everything was fine. Perfect Annie with her perfect life couldn’t have a problem she’d ever admit to.

  That was so not Lizzie’s issue. She had plenty of problems.

  With the arrival of Dante Giovanni, she suspected she’d just picked up one more.

  CHAPTER

  9

  Mom, there’s a guy outside,” Paige said.

  Lizzie joined Paige on the dining room bay window seat. It was six-thirty in the morning, almost exactly twenty-four hours since Tay had first appeared, and Lizzie’s stomach had been in a knot for every single one of them. She’d had trouble sleeping, her mind ricocheting between curiosity and dread about whether Tay would come back and what she would do if he dared.

  “I think he’s fixing stuff,” Paige said. “Did you hire someone?”

  “No. I didn’t.” Lizzie peeked out the window, her heart thumping an unwelcome welcome. Tay walked the length of her fence, wobbling the loose slats and kneeling here and there to inspect the rotted wood. He was wearing jeans and another faded T-shirt like the one he had worn yesterday, despite that the chill of fall seemed to have blown into town with a vengeance overnight. Did the man not feel the cold? At this rate, it would be winter by the month’s end.

  She wanted to bring him a coat, to invite him in for a coffee, to take him into her bed. Just ten minutes earlier, she’d woken up from a dream of Tay that was so hot, she’d need an extra-long shower to get it out of her system.

  She combed her fingers through Paige’s shiny hair. “We don’t accept charity,” she said. Especially from men who show up in my dreams naked…

  She went to the kitchen, sank into a chair, and picked up the phone. She dialed and waited.

  “Why not?” Paige asked. “We need charity.”

  “First, no we certainly do not. And second, because letting men show up out of the blue to solve our problems is lame,” Lizzie said.

  “You’re talking about Dad or that guy out there?”

  It sucked to have such a smart kid. “Both,” Lizzie said just as Jessie Ray answered her call.

  “Galton Police Department.”

  “Jess? It’s Lizzie. Is Tommy there?”

  “Mom! You’re calling the cops on him!” Paige tried to grab the phone, but Lizzie pivoted away. “How could you?” Paige asked. “He’s fixing stuff! If a guy can fix stuff, why not let him?”

  Lizzie’s stomach cramped. Why not? Because you might not be able to count on him in the end. He could leave, not come back for fourteen years…

  “Hold on, Lizzie. I’ll see if I can track him down,” Jessie said, and put her on hold.

  “You’re not going to call the cops on Dad when he comes, are you?” Paige asked.

  Lizzie ignored her.

  “Liz?” Tommy asked.


  Lizzie sighed with relief at the sound of her brother-in-law’s voice. She turned her back to Paige. “Tommy, listen. I need you to swing by. Now. That man is back.”

  “Back? He’s been here before?” Paige asked.

  “Er, which man?” Tommy asked.

  “My mysterious fix-it man. Remember?”

  “Oh. Right. Fastest screwdriver in the West.”

  “Tommy, he’s fixing my fence now.”

  A pause. Then, “Sounds dangerous.”

  Paige leaned in close so that Tommy could hear. “He’s gor-ge-ous,” she sang.

  “Oh, in that case, I’ll be right over. I do loves me a good-lookin’ man.” He sounded remarkably unimpressed.

  “Tommy, this is serious. He’s not my fix-it man. I didn’t ask him to come. We’ve been through this.”

  Tommy put on his best Clint Eastwood drawl. “Yes, ma’am. I did hear tell of a rogue fix-it man on the loose. But I never thought he’d dare set foot in my town.” Tommy’s best Clint Eastwood drawl sucked.

  Lizzie nudged Paige’s shoulder. “Go to school.”

  Paige plopped down at the kitchen table. She called out loud enough for Tommy to hear, “I can’t go out there! He’s not wearing safety goggles! He’s a bad, bad man.”

  “Just come!” Lizzie insisted. She looked out the window. Tay was measuring the length of the fence.

  Paige called over Lizzie’s shoulder, “I’m so scared, Tommy! What if he retars our driveway next?”

  “Okay,” Tommy said. “This I gotta see.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Lizzie said.

  Tommy had pulled up in his blue-and-white cruiser, lights flashing, looking official. But now, two minutes later, he was talking to Tay as if they were old college buddies, smiling and nodding as they kicked at the ground. All they needed were beers in their hands, a game involving balls on the tube, and some burgers on the grill. The two men were inspecting the fence together. “I think they’re talking shop.” Tommy loved his tools. He fixed anything that even appeared to be maybe thinking about breaking. Which was why Lizzie had forbidden him to fix anything at her place. It was too humiliating to be her sister and her brother-in-law’s charity case.