by Mae Nunn
“That’s exactly what I figured you’d say when I imagined you two meeting. I know you’ll feel the same about all my sisters.”
The look on his face was puzzling. Hope and happiness tinged with a strange touch of sadness glinted in his mesmerizing eyes. Eyes she would miss terribly one day.
Eyes Abby feared she’d begun to…
Love.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE PLAYGROUND parking lot was empty when Abby arrived except for the familiar H&H vehicle that had become a symbol of comfort. Even as she had the thought, she felt the ache of sorrow, knowing her remaining time with Guy was slipping away.
The passenger door of the truck flew open and Casey bounded to the ground leaving no further time for spirits to lag. The slender brunette was lean and athletic, the muscles in her arms defined by a life of physical activity. By contrast Abby felt short and dumpy, still carrying weight in her legs and backside that she’d gained during pregnancy. She tugged the hem of her shorts at a futile attempt to cover her thighs.
Guy hadn’t exaggerated the thick mop of corkscrew curls that seemed to have a mind of their own, spiraling and waving in the warm wind. Though Casey must have been five years older, her energy level made Abby feel like a worn-out gym sock. An excited grin split Casey’s face as the beauty loped across the asphalt.
The driver emerged from the white vehicle and Abby’s insides lurched, then did a skip and a jump at the sight of Guy Hardy. He winked and raised his hands in surrender as if helpless to stop the speeding train that was his kid sister.
Abby was quickly engulfed in a friendly hug, her back being patted affectionately.
“Thanks so much for letting me help with your project!” Casey enthused. “I love working outdoors and I’ve always had the greenest thumb in the family. I guarantee Guy can kill plastic ivy so he’s definitely not the right choice when it comes to gardening.” This last was said loud enough for anyone in the parking lot to hear, definitely meant to goad her brother.
“I hate to admit it, but she’s right,” he gave in easily, as he reached Casey’s side. “My forte is working with inanimate materials. The only green things I get along with are the ones in my salad bowl.”
He rifled fingers through his sister’s wild locks.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around? I’m really good with a brush and I see that jungle gym still needs another coat.” He indicated the dome-shaped set of climbing bars that were only half-covered in rust-resistant paint. Tedious work she’d been avoiding.
Abby hesitated, loving the hopeful way his forehead was wrinkled in question. Then she caught sight of the young pecan tree, remembered her mission and shook her head. Maybe a little too emphatically, because the light in Guy’s lovely blue eyes dimmed just a bit. His smile slipped slightly as he rocked back on the heels of his boots and shrugged. She’d been close to giving in, to accepting his offer of help just to make his day. And she could use the extra pair of capable hands.
“Oh, don’t fall for that sad puppy look of his, Abby. Stick to your guns and send him packing. Besides, after the last swing set he put together he said he’d never get himself in that position again.”
“Is that so?” Abby folded her arms and waited for the story that was sure to follow.
“Tell her, Guy. What was the name of that redhead you dated in Nashville? April? Amy?”
“I don’t remember.” He scowled at Casey.
“Oh sure you do. What was her name? Angel!” Casey snapped her fingers over finding the right answer. “That was it, Angel Merrett. You said she was the total package except for those two little monsters masquerading as children.”
“I doubt I was that crude,” he defended himself. “But those boys were out of control.”
“Oh, tell Abby. It’s hysterical!”
“I think I’d better get going.” He began to back away, distancing himself from his sister and her tale.
Casey turned to Abby, chuckling as she recalled the story. “To be fair, nobody blamed him for feeling that way after we heard what happened.” She leaned in. “He was helping her save a few bucks by delivering and assembling the new backyard stuff she bought at our store for her kids. Guy took his boots off so he wouldn’t scuff the equipment while he attached the swings and slide. When he was distracted the little brats filled his boots with what they thought was mud!”
Abby sputtered laughter behind her hand. “Is that true? They put mud in your boots?”
Guy heaved a resigned sigh and turned back toward the two women. “Not just any boots, either. The first and only pair I’ve ever owned that were completely custom-made. They were beauts.”
“Ask if he still has them.” Casey gave Abby a conspiratorial wink.
Guy growled like an angry bear at his sister’s insistence upon the details. Undeterred, she encouraged Abby again. “Go ahead, ask him what he did with that pair.”
Abby took a step closer to Guy, daring to follow Casey’s lead. “So, what became of the boots?”
“One of them is in my mom’s laundry room and the other is in Meg’s basement. They’re used as doorstops.”
“Huh?” Abby didn’t quite follow the transition from fancy footwear to doorstop.
Casey couldn’t resist beating him to the punch line.
“The ‘mud’ the boys put in Guy’s boots was really quick-dry concrete that he’d mixed up in the wheelbarrow to anchor the swing set into the ground!”
Guy grimaced. “By the time I caught on to their prank, the concrete had already set up. My boots weighed about eight pounds apiece.”
Abby made no effort to hold back the cackle of laughter.
“Hence, my brother’s handmade boots became the world’s most stylish doorstops.”
“Well, I don’t know about most stylish but they certainly were the most pricey.” He rolled his eyes skyward over the loss, while the ladies continued to share a hearty laugh at his expense. When it was clear they wouldn’t give up the fit of giggles anytime soon, he turned toward the truck. “You girls enjoy yourselves. I’m glad I could provide a little comic relief for you today.”
“Thank you!” Abby called amid the dwindling chuckles. Guy climbed inside the truck and with a wave out the window merged into the afternoon traffic.
“Ooohhhh, that man is so much fun to pester. Just another reason he’s so popular with the ladies.”
The reminder of his appeal with the women sobered Abby. Time to get to work. The one thing that took her mind off her worry. Good thing there was lots of work because there were lots of worries.
She clapped her hands once and rubbed them together. “Shall we get busy?”
“Absolutely!”
The time they spent together was further confirmation of Casey’s high-spiritedness. No wonder she was a workaholic. The woman had the energy to burn brightly for eighteen hours a day with enough left over to power a small generator!
Her ideas were endless, too. While she seemed to honor the original dream for the playground, she threw out an innovative suggestion for a quiet meditation area adults could use when the kids were not around.
Aside from the mile-wide assertive streak that made her so competitive, Abby was beginning to think Casey was perfect, too. They’d warmed to each other quickly and Abby could tell Casey would be a loyal friend. Maybe this was what it was like to have a sister.
Hmmmmm… A sister. Was that just one more way Guy was trying to help her ou
t? Was she intended to become an honorary member of the gaggle?
Hours later they rested on a concrete bench beneath the shady canopy of a spreading live oak tree, and recapped what remained to be accomplished. Casey checked items off her growing list, as she drew a time line on her pad and noted what had to be done before their Mother’s Day dedication.
“Casey?”
“Hmmmmm?” Her head was lowered over her work, curls obscuring those intensely blue eyes.
Abby kept her voice casual, needing a few answers but not wanting to tip her hand too far.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help. Do you pitch in like this for all of your brother’s lady friends?”
The sable corkscrews bounced with the motion of Casey’s head popping up, her eyes seeking Abby’s.
“Oh, no! Guy hasn’t introduced a woman to us since college. Isn’t that amazing? He’s always kept his romantic involvements away from the family to prevent anybody from getting the wrong idea about his intentions. He shares a funny story about one of them now and again, but only after they’ve moved on. So it caught all our interest when we heard ‘Abby this and Abby that’ over and over.” She winked. “Obviously, there’s a very special friendship between you two. We may have to declare you and Dillon honorary members of the Hardy clan so the whole family can get to know you.”
Abby’s temples pounded as blood rushed to her head. She hoped her face wouldn’t flush and give away the pleasure she felt knowing this was something unique for Guy, just as it was for her. Of course Casey meant it innocently, had no idea Abby had pipe dreams of more. How would it feel to be loved by a big family?
But more importantly, how would it feel to be loved by Guy?
A breeze ruffled her bangs, trailing them across her eyes. She pushed them back from her face, glanced up, her gaze locking on the low white fence that surrounded the pecan sapling. It was young and vulnerable, just like Phillip had been when she’d known him as a boy.
Phillip. She hadn’t thought of him in days.
Oh, how can I be so forgetful? My sweet Phillip has been gone such a short time and his memory is already slipping away from me. How can I be so infatuated with Guy that I can’t keep my mind on the precious friend who loved me with his last breath?
A slender arm draped across her back. A soft hand cupped her shoulder and pulled her close.
“You okay, kiddo? I don’t think you heard a word of what I just said.”
She’d completely tuned out Casey’s chatter, fixed on her private thoughts. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I was telling you we should lay tiles instead of trying to pour a walkway. That would be much faster and free if we use discards from the H&H stockroom. We always put the seconds and mismatched tiles aside to be recycled but it’s still high-quality material and there’s no reason I can’t donate it to the playground instead. What do you think?”
Abby needed to unburden, but this was Guy’s sister and they were just getting to know one another.
“I have some stuff on my mind that I have to work through before I can make any more decisions today.”
Again, there was a comforting squeeze, then Casey spoke.
“If you need to talk, I’m a good listener. I spent most of my childhood being a fly on the wall. You can’t possibly say anything I haven’t already heard at least once from one of my older sisters,” she encouraged. “And even though you’ve probably experienced more of life’s setbacks than I have, I do have a few years on you and can probably give you some sage feedback.”
Instinct told Abby she could trust this woman.
“You know I’m building this playground as a tribute to my late husband, right?”
Casey nodded. “That’s what Guy said.”
“Well, it just occurred to me that I haven’t thought of him for several days.” Her chin drooped. She was ashamed to look Casey in the eye. “How can I be such a hypocrite? I’m trying to create a place to keep Dillon from forgetting the father he’s never known, and I’m already losing touch with the memories of the boy who was my best friend for most of my life. I feel like such a failure.”
“Oh, Abby, you’re not a failure at all. Your heart is just mending.”
Could it be that simple? “You think so?”
“Yes, I do. You’ve always heard time heals all wounds, right? The longing for what was lost may linger for a very long time, but we eventually get past the physical ache that makes us think we can’t go on. I’d guess that since you can go a few days at a time now without thinking of…”
“Phillip.”
“If you can go a couple of days without thinking of Phillip then your heart is on the mend. You might even be ready to consider letting somebody new into your life.”
Abby straightened away from the kindly embrace. After their conversation the night before, she was determined not to give the impression that she was indeed another one of Guy’s doomed hopefuls.
She shook her head. “I don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon, though you may be right about the healing. What I feel these days is more akin to guilt than sadness.”
“Well, you haven’t done anything to feel guilty for so don’t bother with that emotion. It’s a monumental waste of energy.” Casey stood, brushed down the front of her khaki shorts and glanced at her wristwatch. “I know you need to get home soon and Guy will be back to pick me up any minute now. So, let’s go over your plans one more time to make sure I understand what you want, then I’ll be able to come back tomorrow and get started.”
Abby stood and wrapped Casey in a brief hug. Though she was younger, shorter and broader than Guy’s sister, Abby felt a strong kinship with Casey that had nothing to do with age, shape or size.
* * *
“I SHOULD HAVE MY HEAD examined for offering you my pullout sofa till you can find a place of your own.”
The siblings sat across the rented dining-room table from one another that evening. The fragrance of green curry wafted from white containers as they heaped Thai food on paper plates.
Casey was in one of her probing moods and Guy found himself on the receiving end of her questions, as usual. He preferred solitude and quiet at the end of the day, some peace to concentrate on his art. Tonight there would be none of that. The roomy two-bedroom apartment H&H leased for him during his stint in each new city was shrinking by the moment. Casey was a fizzy drink that had been shaken too hard. Her effervescence filled a room to overflowing, gobs of popping bubbles in her wake. Yet again Guy feared for the poor schmuck who fell in love with his kid sister.
“If you’d put a bed in that second room instead of spreading your amazing array of toys out everyplace, I could just stay here with you.”
“Those are artisan’s tools, not toys,” he reminded her for the umpteenth time. Just because she had no artistic skill of her own, she poked fun at his love for working with stained glass. The day he was stationary enough to blow glass, not just cut and solder it, she’d truly be amazed by what kind of “toys” would be required.
“And as much as you’re welcome to visit, staying here is not an option, Rebecca Thelma Casey. After sharing a bathroom with you girls for all those years, I’ve earned my personal space. Besides I need all my equipment with me so I can finish the piece I’m doing for Mom.”
He’d proudly shown Casey the colorful display of frosted yellow daffodils and gleaming orange tiger lilies. The four-foot-square pane of intricate glass would eventually repl
ace a window in the family kitchen back home. It would be a radiant reminder of summertime when their mother sat at her breakfast nook during the freezing Iowa winters.
“I have to hand it to you, bro. You’ve definitely put the gaggle on notice that this Mother’s Day your gift is the one to beat.” She popped spicy calamari into her mouth.
He shook his head. “I have another project I have to do first. I’m shooting for Mom’s birthday at the end of June. I’ll be back home by then and I can install it myself. She’s been after me for years to do this for her so I can’t wait to see her face the first time she gets a look at it.”
“Then you really are planning to go home in a couple more weeks?”
“Well, yeah. There’s easily three months of planning at corporate before I have to move down to the Galveston site.”
“And what about that sweet girl and her family?”
Guy’s chopsticks stilled, spring roll halfway to his mouth. He narrowed his eyes, deciding whether to play dumb or come clean.
Maybe halfway was best.
“Sweet girl, huh? Considering you were full of suspicions yesterday, you sure have become a fan overnight.”
“Trust me, I still want to see the final report on the Reagans, but if first impressions pan out I agree we don’t have any long-term worries.”
Several things assaulted Guy at once. The report the family was waiting on. He had to do something about that, and soon.
Then there was the conversation he’d had with their insurance agent that morning. Don Quinn was the owner of the independent Iowa firm. He’d worked with H&H since the beginning and stuck with them even after the arbitration with the Grossmans that had cost a small fortune to settle. Don was adamant that the coverage provided on the Reagans case was far beyond fair and equitable. The injury had not been a result of negligence on the part of Hearth and Home. It was confirmed by the Reagans own surgeon to be a spontaneous fracture, not uncommon in a woman Sarah’s age. Given the recent history of payout, Don stood firm in his refusal to offer a gratuitous settlement beyond what was contractually required.