Love of a Lifetime

by Carol Voss

  Maggie’s shoulders bunched as the word Nonna left his lips. “Let’s get started.”

  Tony wished she’d relax a little. This inspection didn’t have to be a nail-biting venture. “Can I get you some lemonade?”

  “No, thank you. I’m very anxious to hear what Mr. Celenti has to say.”

  “To begin with, the presentation of the Victorian is magnificent. There are no flaws in the setting or the layout. I recommend nothing be changed in that category.”

  Leave it to Jack to play up the strengths first. But Maggie would see right through his telling her what she wanted to hear.

  Jack walked over and parted the plants near the foundation. He inspected the rock wall and soon disappeared around the corner of the house.

  Maggie took off as if she dared not let him out of her sight.

  Careful not to damage the plantings, Jack continued along the circumference of the house with Maggie on his heels. Tony followed. Occasionally, the expert rubbed his large hand over the dry, peeling paint, flakes shimmering down to drift over plants and flowers like snow. From time to time, he inspected a rotting windowsill.

  “Well?” Maggie said sharply, obviously unable to endure Jack’s silence any longer. “Can you give us your thoughts, Mr. Celenti?”

  Jack took a red kerchief from his hip pocket and mopped his face. “Please call me Jack. I’ll check the foundation in the cellar later. But from the outside, it appears it was built to last.”

  Maggie gave Tony a little smile of satisfaction. Apparently, she figured a good foundation was all the place needed.

  “The siding has seen better days,” Jack went on. “It needs to be ripped off and replaced with new before it’s painted. And the house should be wrapped with insulation to keep these horrific winter winds out.” Jack gave Tony a pained look. “I’ll never get used to these northern winters.”

  Tony nodded, even though he hadn’t lived through a northern winter for a good long time.

  “Every last window needs to be replaced, which will increase energy efficiency. You’ll have to decide if you want to change the openings to accommodate regular windows or have windows built to fit. Now, I’ll use that ladder to inspect the roof.”

  Maggie wore her worried look. The one that made Tony want to comfort her. She was probably watching dollar signs dance before her eyes. And now, Jack was heading to the roof. She already knew the sorry state of that part of the house.

  Tony hated putting her through this, but she had to know what she would be up against if she took on the old place. He adjusted the ladder and held it.

  Jack began to climb. “You two stay down here. That’s a real steep pitch and the shingles are probably moss-covered and slippery.”

  “Be careful. You could fall through,” Tony warned.

  Jack hauled himself onto the roof with the nimbleness that always amazed Tony. A minute later, the expert disappeared from sight.

  Maggie kept on gazing up. “Have you known Jack long?”

  “About six years. He’s a good guy and a hard worker.”

  “He says the foundation is good. That’s the most important thing.” She set her chin as if she had all the corroboration she needed to sink tons of money into the old house.

  “Do you have any idea the cost of the things he mentioned? Plus we know what shape the roof is in. And he hasn’t even gotten to the interior.”

  She shook her head, as if none of it mattered. “I’m willing to listen to your objective expert’s opinion. Shouldn’t you be just as willing? Unless you’ve already told Jack what his opinion should be.”

  Tony couldn’t believe his ears. “Come on, you don’t think I got Jack over here to lie to you.”

  “I know you’re convinced the house isn’t worth saving.”

  “Who do you think I am, Maggie? A liar?”

  She gave her head a little shake. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t lie to me. It’s just…” She drew in a breath, let it out. “I’m sorry.”

  He ignored the impulse to take her hand in his and rubbed the back of his neck instead. What was he getting in such a snit about? You’d think she’d accused him of murder. Although if she had, it probably wouldn’t hurt more.

  “Hey, Stefano. Steady that ladder so I can get on it without killing myself, will you?”

  Relieved by the interruption, Tony grasped the ladder firmly.

  Once Jack reached the ground, he paced a few steps toward the porch, then turned and paced back, shaking his head and puffing on his cigar. He stopped in front of Maggie, looking as sorrowful as Tony had ever seen him. “Well, both chimneys are beyond repair. And the roof is a total loss. It will have to be built from scratch.”

  Jack was a man who dealt with practicalities and financial bottom lines. The least he could do was attach a price tag to his ideas. “We need to know how much things will cost, Jack.”

  Tony didn’t add, because neither she nor Nonna have the money to restore a cottage, let alone a monstrous place like this one. “The beams in the attic are rotting, too. How much money are we talking?”

  Jack rubbed his head. “Rebuilding the entire top of the house with the gables and dormers, I’d say we’re talking in the neighborhood of fifty thousand dollars for materials and labor.

  “Wow, those estimates are even steeper than I thought,” Tony said.

  Jack met Maggie’s eyes, his usually jovial expression grave. “The roof is the first priority. It’s in terrible shape. Rewiring should be addressed next. The wiring is always brittle in these old houses, and there’s not much point in sinking money in a tinderbox.”

  “What neighborhood are we talking for the rewiring?” Tony couldn’t help feeling like a Judas for asking, but it had to be done if Maggie was going to get the complete picture.

  Jack gave his cigar a couple puffs and launched into a list of costs that mounted well beyond Tony’s rough calculation.

  Maggie bit her lip. The fight seemed to be draining out of her before his eyes. She’d had her heart so set on having the old place ready for Nonna to come back home to live.

  He hated this. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. “She’s heard enough, Jack.”

  “No, I want to know what needs to be done. What else, Mr. Celenti…Jack?”

  Jack glanced at Tony, then focused on Maggie again. “I’ll need to take a look inside.”

  Tony grimaced. Maggie was as pale as a ghost, her body so rigid that she looked as though she might launch into space any minute. Time to end this session. “I think you’ve seen enough to get to the bottom line, Jack. If this place was yours, what would you do?”

  Jack cleared his throat as if to lend drama to his pronouncement. “I love old houses, so it pains me to say this. But considering the financial outlay needed to restore this one, I’d advise tearing it down and building from the foundation up.”

  Maggie flinched as though she’d been hit. Her lovely face began to crumple as she fought for composure.

  Tony reached out to her. He needed to comfort her.

  “It’s Stella’s home.” She twisted away, staring at him through eyes filled with hurt. “We can’t tear it down.”

  His heart thudded so hard, he could scarcely breathe. Whatever made him think calling Jack was a good idea? “Maggie—”

  “We can’t.” She flung the words at him, then she turned and ran up the front steps and disappeared behind the roses climbing the porch. The door slammed with a resounding bang.

  Tony raced inside. Maggie never ran away from anything. Never.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gut churning, Tony gave two raps on Maggie’s bedroom door. “It’s me.”

  Silence. She didn’t throw a shoe at the door. She didn’t tell him to go away. She
ignored him. She probably wanted to be alone to compose herself, but he needed to make sure she was all right. Somehow, he needed to erase that look he’d seen in her eyes, the look he’d never seen there before. Fear and lost hope.

  Guilt twisting inside him, he turned the ancient knob and pushed open the door.

  At first he didn’t see her. Then he spotted the top of her head near the window on the other side of the high four-poster. He walked around the bed and lowered himself to his haunches beside her. “You okay?”

  She shook her head.

  He began to reach out to touch her face, then decided against it. His touch was probably the last thing she’d welcome right now.

  She just sat there, hugging her knees and staring out the darkening window. She looked so forlorn. So crushed.

  If only she’d cry or holler at him or throw things, he might be able to think of something to say or do. As it was, he had nothing to take his mind off the pain spreading through him. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

  “For what?” Although there was an edge in her voice, she didn’t move or turn to him. She just kept staring out that window.

  “I’m sorry the house isn’t in better shape. That there’s not much money to repair it. Mostly, I’m sorry I didn’t see how much Jack’s evaluation would upset you.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  He dragged a heavy breath. He wanted to grasp her shoulders and turn her to face him, but he resisted the impulse. “Talk to me, Maggie.”

  “I’ve talked far too much.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “You don’t hear me.”

  He couldn’t believe his ears. He’d heard her every word. “When? When haven’t I heard you?”

  She jerked around to face him, her eyes dark and accusing. “You think I’m being stubborn about Stella’s house. You think I’m daydreaming about fixing it up. Why can’t you understand?” She waved her hands wildly with each word. “Stella needs her home. Don’t you care about that?”

  “Of course I care.” He felt sick to his stomach seeing her hurting like this. “Calm down, okay?”

  She gave him a look of disgust and threw her hands in the air. “Make up your mind. You told me to talk to you. But I can’t talk and calm down at the same time.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension. “Don’t you think I’d like Nonna to be able to return to her home?”

  She glared at him, murder in her eyes. Then she turned abruptly and stared out the window again. “I had no idea how much it would cost, but we can’t tear down Stella’s house. Not being able to come home will…kill…her.”

  Tony’s insides turned inside out. Oh, yeah, fine thing he’d done by inviting Jack. Maggie was absolutely beaten, and he didn’t have a clue what to say to help her out. Probably best to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted was to say the wrong thing. But he had to do something. Carefully, he laid his hand on her shoulder.

  She stiffened.

  Aching with the need to make things better, it was all he could do to keep from gathering her in his arms and promising her the moon if only she’d act like herself again.

  Too bad he didn’t have the moon to give her. And if he tried to take her in his arms, she’d probably order him out of her room. So he gently stroked her shoulder while his stomach churned like a cement mixer.

  One thing was clear. He couldn’t let her go on struggling alone. Sure, she was self-sufficient and capable, but she needed help and there was one thing he could help her with. “Maggie, we won’t tear Nonna’s house down.”

  She turned to look at him, her brow puckering in a puzzled frown. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “I promise.”

  “But the money…”

  He smoothed her curls back and tilted her head so she had to look at him. “Those checks in the cookie jar will pay for materials for the roof.”

  “Stella refused to let me use them.”

  Of course she did. “I’ll talk to her.”

  She worried her bottom lip, doubt in her eyes. “But that’s not—”

  “Do you trust me?”

  Still frowning, she gave a little nod.

  He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. She trusted him. Now all he needed was to figure out what he was going to do. If he’d stashed away the big bucks he’d made over the years rather than buying materials to build schools in the strife-torn areas he’d worked in, the answer would be simple.

  The money he’d sent to Nonna and the savings he’d put away for a rainy day were a start. But the money wouldn’t stretch far enough to pay for materials and labor. So what was he going to do? He didn’t know. But whatever he came up with, he was going to help Maggie. Running out on her was not an option.

  Not this time.

  * * *

  Early Friday morning, Maggie pulled into the driveway alongside Tony’s motorcycle. She’d gone to the rehab center early to check on Stella with her own eyes. Her friend’s fever was down a degree. Thank You, God, but she still looks so pale and weak. Please help her. And please help her deal with Tony leaving today.

  He was probably packed up, ready to ride out of her life. Who knew when or if she’d ever see him again? Tears threatening, she did her best to will them away. Thank You for giving me the chance to tell him goodbye. Please help me find the words. She jumped out of the Suburban, grabbed her portfolio from the seat and slammed the door.

  Loud crashes came from the top of the house. Alarm jolted her. Peering up, she couldn’t see the source of the noise. What in the world was going on?

  Another loud crash made her jump. It sounded as if somebody was tearing down the house. Had Tony hired a carpenter? She raced up the back steps and through the door. She dropped her portfolio on a nearby chair, bolted through the kitchen and up the stairs. Breathlessly, she reached the attic door and pulled it open. A tearing sound and another crash assaulted her. She charged up the narrow stairs, choking on dust and hot air.

  Reaching the attic, she squinted through the haze. The first thing she saw was the sky. Part of the roof was gone. It lay in a heap of rubble on the attic floor. And in the middle of the debris, shirtless and grabbing at the ceiling with a crowbar, stood Tony. Confusion and panic flared inside her. “Tony,” she yelled.

  He jerked around to face her, his eyes wide with surprise, his face and chest streaked with sweat and grime.

  He looked so strong. So powerful. She stared, trying to catch her breath, unable to focus on anything but him.

  His eyes shone with intent. His muscles glistened with the sheen of hard labor. He stood tall with the pride of earnest sweat. He was clearly in his element, working with his hands and totally in charge. A grin began in his eyes and spread over his face. “Don’t worry, Blossom. I moved the old trunk and stuff to one of the spare bedrooms.”

  “But you promised not to tear down the house.” Without waiting for his reply, she climbed the pile of rubble, her sandals slipping and stumbling until she stood in front of him.

  He lowered the crowbar. “I’m tearing out the rotted wood so I can rebuild.”

  “But there’s nothing to keep out the rain.” She pointed helplessly at the expanse of sky where the roof should have been.

  He shot her a teasing grin. “There was nothing to keep out the rain before either. But not to worry, I’ll rig up a plastic tent.”

  “You…you have to catch your flight.”

  “I canceled.”

  “Canceled?”

  “I’m staying to do the labor myself.”

  “Staying?”

  “I told you I’d help.”

  She shook her head. He was staying? But he hadn’t said he was staying last night. She would
remember if he’d said he was staying. “You said the money in the cookie jar would pay for materials for the roof.”

  “It will. And I have a small nest egg stashed away, too. It’s not nearly enough, but the money will go a lot further if I do the labor.”

  “What about your project in Brazil?”

  “I have a good foreman on-site, a guy who’s been with me awhile and knows how I run things. And I’m working on getting better communications in place so I can help him deal with problems more efficiently and keep my backers happy.”

  She shook her head, still trying to sort things out. “You can do that? Did your backers agree? Will you get in trouble? Why are you doing this?”

  He squinted. “Yes, yes, no and, most important, I can’t leave when Nonna needs me.” He shifted his focus to a spot beyond her shoulder. “When you need me.”

  Could he be saying what she thought he was saying? Could he actually be the Tony she’d dreamed about all these years? A smile spread until it consumed her. Stepping closer, she reached out and grasped his hand.

  He dropped the crowbar with a thud. His gaze dark, intense, he questioned her with his eyes.

  “You’re really staying?”

  He smiled that Tony smile. “I’m really staying.”

  But for how long? a small voice in the back of her mind nudged. “How long?”

  “Am I staying?”

  She managed a nod.

  “Long enough to get the roof and bathroom ready for Nonna to come home. At least a couple months.”

  She shivered. “A couple months,” she whispered.

  “Give or take.” His eyes flinched. “You thought…”

  She’d hoped.

  He blew out a breath. “I wish I could promise to stay longer. But…”