“That’s one issue that could be a problem. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of your doctor, but all those contractors are really loud and your body needs rest. I know you’re going to be tired and will want to sleep, but there’s no way you can nap while those guys are busy working.”
“I’ll sleep at night.” Pete sat up again and looked out the window. “They’ll probably take a lunch break some time during the day, and I can nap then if I’m tired. It’s no big deal.”
“I’m still not sure this is a good idea. It would probably be better for your recovery if you stayed here.”
“Maybe it would be better for me physically, but not mentally.” He ran his thumb and forefinger down one of Harley’s soft ears. “I learned the hard way that being injured can lead to depression, and I’d prefer to avoid going through that again. Getting out of here will help a lot.”
Lisa turned to look at him. “I wish I didn’t know what you were talking about, but I do. I suppose the worst thing that could happen is that you’d decide you can’t stand staying in the house and you move back in here.”
Pete extended his arms wide. “Hey, how much worse could it be than this?”
“I don’t suppose you’re color blind, are you?”
“No, I can see color fine.”
“That’s too bad, unless you happen to have a peculiar fondness for magenta.”
“Magenta?”
Lisa grinned. “You’ll see.”
Lisa made arrangements to come back the next day and pick up Pete, then she and Harley returned to the house. The contractors were packing up their things, getting ready to go home. Craig waved at her to get her attention. She walked into the living room and looked down at the kelly green carpet, which was still right where it had been for decades.
She pointed at the furniture, which was stacked and jammed into the hallway. “What’s going on? I thought you were ripping out the carpet today.”
Craig frowned. “We moved to the upstairs because I wanted to talk to you about this room. The pad underneath has completely disintegrated. It’s literally turned to powder, which is gonna create a huge dust storm when we yank it, so I wanted to check with you first. The room is huge and that carpet-pad dust is going to get all over everything on the first floor. We can’t open the windows either. That’s why people usually do this type of thing in the summer.”
Lisa tried not to roll her eyes. She was tired of getting lectures from this guy. His condescending tone made her want to slap him. She gave him a tight smile. “I know. You keep telling me that, but the timing of this project is not my decision.”
“So what do you want us to do?”
“If you can’t do this carpet yet, you can’t. Put the furniture back and continue with the upstairs. I have a roommate arriving tomorrow and I need to get him settled. He’ll be staying in the office. I need you to move the desk out because a bed is being delivered tomorrow from a medical-supply company.”
Craig gestured toward the hall. “The roommate is staying in the office down there?”
“It’s a long story. His name is Pete and you’ll meet him tomorrow.”
“That desk is gigantic. It’s gonna take four of us to lift it and tilt it to get it out through the door. Where do you want us to put it?”
“In here. If you move the couches and coffee table down, there’s room along that back wall. It will be fine for the time being.”
“All right. I’ll tell the guys to do it first thing.”
“Thank you.” Lisa motioned toward the front door. “Have a good evening.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll see ya tomorrow.”
Lisa watched as the parade of workmen tromped out of the house. After everyone was gone, she was able to walk around in peace and evaluate what they’d done without Craig’s incessant commentary. Although he was perfectly pleasant and professional, something about him rubbed her the wrong way. She was trying her best to be polite, but sometimes she wished he’d just shut up.
Lisa had grabbed a sandwich from the deli on the way home. Since Harley had been living with her, she’d only been to the grocery store once, while he was staying at the kennel. The cupboards were completely bare, with the exception of a bag of stale potato chips she hadn’t finished and had subsequently forgotten about.
Once Pete was living at the house, he could stay with Harley while she did a major store run. That would be liberating. She could take the truck out without the addition of her drooly copilot. After eating by herself for so long, it would be nice to cook for someone again. When the girls were still living at home, if someone had told her that she’d miss cooking, she never would have believed them. But she truly did.
After feeding Harley and cleaning up the kitchen, Lisa went upstairs to her room and discovered that the orange carpet was gone. Now there was just grayish-brown plywood subflooring filled with rows of holes where the workmen had pulled out the tack strips. The room seemed oddly muted without its brightly colored carpet and the awful brown, orange, and gold plaid bedspreads looked even worse in isolation.
The house had been built in the early sixties, so Lisa was unlikely to unearth a lovely surprise like hardwood flooring when the carpet was removed. The home-improvement shows on TV tended to focus on old houses that had been built in the era of fine craftsmanship. Sadly, at the Lowell family home nothing pretty was lurking under all that hideous carpet.
Lisa spent most of the next morning supervising the furniture moving and the installation of the hospital bed in the office. It was more than a little jarring to see the room set up as a sleeping area again. She’d spent a lot of hours staring up at that ceiling, analyzing her pain and range of motion. Not to mention obsessing about her attraction to Mike and feeling sorry for herself. Lisa wanted to give herself a shake. She needed to stop thinking about that ancient history and focus on the present. It was time to load up Harley and pick up Pete.
At the care center, Lisa found Pete more than ready to leave. He was poised for departure, parked in a wheelchair with his suitcase packed and paperwork signed. All he needed was to be rolled out of the building.
Lisa smiled as she handed him Harley’s leash. “Ready for some fresh air? It’s cold out today.”
He leaned over to pet Harley. “You have no idea.”
“All right, let’s go.” Lisa pushed the wheelchair down the hallway. “You’re going to have to help me figure out how you’re going to get into the truck.”
“No problem.” As they approached the salmon pickup, he looked over his shoulder at her. “This is your truck?”
“It’s my brother’s. I’m borrowing it.”
“Why is it pink? Does he sell makeup?”
Lisa giggled. “No, he’s a lawyer, but I have to remember that the next time someone asks. I’ll tell them Larry won it as a prize for selling the most lipstick. To be fair, he’d tell you in a stern, lawyerly tone of voice that it’s salmon, not pink.”
“Well, that makes all the difference then.”
Lisa opened the passenger door and Harley leaped up into the cab. She turned to Pete. “You’re next.”
She looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. Finally, he reached out to take her hand and then leaned toward her as he stood up on one foot. She put her arm around his waist, which was more than a little awkward. Being so close to someone she didn’t know was uncomfortable and seemed far too intimate, but nurses probably had to deal with this type of thing all the time. She needed to suck it up and try to behave like a professional. Underneath that coat and baggy shirt, Pete had some nice stomach muscles. He was deliciously warm, and whatever soap or shampoo he used smelled incredible.
Lisa struggled to return her attention to the task at hand and maneuver him closer to the truck so he could reach the passenger handle on the roof of the inside. He let go of her and dragged himself up into the cab next to Harley, who gave him a slurp on the cheek in greeting. Pete wiped the drool away. “Thanks for the moral supp
ort, buddy.”
Lisa folded up the wheelchair and put it in the back of the truck along with Pete’s suitcase and crutches. She came around to the driver’s side, got in, and glanced at Pete, who was peering down at the floor.
She leaned over to see what he was looking at. “Don’t worry. That’s paint. This was my Dad’s truck before it was Larry’s. For years it was the hardware-store truck, and it turns out red paint doesn’t come out of floor mats. Ever.”
“Wow, I thought there’d been some type of ritual sacrifice right here in the salmon Dodge.”
“The trucks of Lowell’s Hardware have led strange and difficult lives.”
“I guess so.”
At the house, Lisa pulled into the driveway. The workmen had been instructed to park on the street because she needed to get Pete as close to the front door as possible. The walkway had been shoveled and because the sun had been out for a few days, the concrete was completely clear. Thankfully it wasn’t slippery anymore, but the next time it snowed, it could easily turn into a skating rink. Lisa wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with getting Pete out of the house when that happened, but she’d cross that icy bridge when she got to it.
Getting Pete out of the truck and into the house was complicated by Harley’s enthusiasm about being back home. Lisa put her arm around Pete, helping him navigate the crutches while she held Harley’s leash. Finally, Pete pushed her away and held onto the door handle of the truck while he balanced on his good foot. He took the leash from her and flicked it once. “Harley, sit.”
The dog look startled, but slowly put his rear end on the ground and then wagged his tail a few times.
Lisa turned to look at Pete. “How on earth did you do that? He never sits.”
“He knows the command, but he also knows you don’t know that.” Pete handed the leash back to her. “Make sure he keeps sitting while I get my act together.”
“Okay.” Lisa looked down at the dog. “You heard him. I’m wise to your game now.”
Pete slowly made his way along the walkway and up the steps to the house. Lisa opened the door and he thumped inside, staring intently at the ground. Lisa knew how he must feel. Using the crutches still had to be painful and unnatural for him.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned against the wall to rest, and then turned his head to look around. “Holy shi…, I mean, this place is…I can’t even think of the right word to describe it.”
A crash came from upstairs and Lisa smiled. “I think the adjective you’re looking for is hideous.”
“No, that’s not it at all. This house is remarkable…it’s almost like a time capsule.” He put the crutches back under his arms and went into the living room, taking in the carpet and curved couches with their elaborate matching kelly-green vine print. “I haven’t seen a place like this since the sixties. It’s like a childhood dream come to life.”
“Alice in Wonderland has nothing on the Lowell family homestead.”
“I can’t believe you grew up here.” He turned around and raised his eyebrows at her. “So where am I staying?”
At another banging noise from above, Lisa looked at the ceiling, then gestured toward the den. “My father’s office is this way.”
Pete dutifully followed her through the doorway. The huge old desk had been removed, replaced by an electric hospital bed, which was an odd modern anachronism in the ornate wood-paneled room.
Pete clumped over to the bar that ran the length of one side of the room and leaned against the cream-colored leather padding. “I have my own bar? You didn’t mention that. This is like walking onto the set of a Rat Pack movie. I expect Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra to hunker up next to me and hand me a whiskey.”
Lisa shrugged. “All I know is the contractors are worried about being able to get that gold watered-silk wallpaper off the wall. I guess that type of moiré wallpaper is coated and it doesn’t want to leave quietly. Most of the rest of the wallpaper in the house is like that too. It’s made to withstand The Apocalypse. The guys tried removing a little test patch in the hallway and they found out it only comes off in teeny-tiny pieces if you use a scraper. They’re going to try a steamer next, but they’re a little cranky about the whole thing. They wanted to just paint over it, but you’re not supposed to paint wallpaper, so I told them no.”
Pete moved behind the bar and looked up at the wall. “The mirrored backsplash over here is incredible.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun. Since you’re staying in this room, the work on it is being back-burnered. You get to enjoy it in all its Rat Pack glory for a while.”
He pointed to the opposite wall. “Look at all those books!”
“Don’t get too excited. The bottom shelves are full of ancient hardware catalogs, but my mom’s decorator bought some pretty leather-bound classics so the shelves would look more literary. I’m not sure they’ve ever been read. You could be the first to crack the bindings.”
Pete made his way across the room and around the bed to examine his new library. “Robinson Crusoe, The Count of Monte Cristo, Swiss Family Robinson, and check this out, appropriately enough, we have both Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass on this shelf over here.”
“There’s also a TV behind the doors in that cabinet over there if you get tired of reading.”
“After being trapped in a nursing home, I’ve had enough of TV for a while.” Pete turned to look at her. “I can’t believe how much better I feel already, being out of there. Thanks for letting me stay here. This place is great.”
Lisa grinned. “Well, you are paying me rather handsomely. And I think you may be the first person to say nice things about this house in twenty years. It’s very kind of you. I know this house is kind of strange, but it’s home. Part of me feels sort of sick tearing it all apart, even though I know it’s the right thing to do.”
Pete went over to the bed, set his crutches aside, and sprawled out. A repetitive thumping began upstairs and he pointed at the ceiling. “I see what you mean about the noise.”
“At least they’re working.” Lisa sat on the edge of the bed. “You look tired.”
“I guess I am. I should have grabbed one of those books before I crash landed.”
“Which one do you want?” Lisa walked to the shelf. “Alice, the Count, or something else?”
“The Count would be great.”
Lisa handed him the book and sat down again. “I have to go to the store, so I need you to watch Harley. I’ll close him in here with you, if that’s okay. I’m sure he’ll be fine, since he adores you.”
“Sounds good.” He glanced at the window. “I was too busy wrangling crutches outside and didn’t notice it before, but that’s a massive tree.”
“It goes near the roof off my bedroom. My sister Lynn and I used to climb it to sneak in and out.”
Pete looked back at her. “It must feel strange living here again.”
“I’ve been trying to focus on the remodeling work, but to be honest, staying here has been a little overwhelming. It’s like nostalgia overload. Everywhere I look I imagine younger versions of me or my brothers and sister running up and down hallways, or climbing that tree, or sneaking out the back door to do something we weren’t supposed to do.”
“It sounds like you had a great childhood.”
“I guess I did, although I worked hard to forget everything about this place after my accident.”
“Well, now you’ve been given the opportunity to remember before it’s gone.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“I’m sure I’ll like it here. I mean, look at this room! It’s the ultimate man cave.”
You’re right.” Lisa chuckled. “No wonder my dad spent so much time in his office.”
Chapter 8
Adjustments
Lisa went off to the grocery store gloriously free of Harley. It was so liberating to be able to drive somewhere without the dog. She’d had her doubts, but maybe this arrangem
ent with Pete would work out okay after all. When she’d left, he’d seemed perfectly content reading his book with Harley curled up on the bed by his side.
The Save-a-Lot grocery store looked almost the same as it had when Lisa was growing up. The lack of competition was the not-very-secret entrepreneurial secret to business longevity in Alpine Grove. Certainly, Lowell’s Hardware benefited from the fact that you had to drive a long way to find another store that would sell you a screwdriver. When you really needed something specific like a Phillip’s head screwdriver, nothing else would do, and you’d pay whatever it cost to get one. All those small-town residents with unrelenting hardware needs had supported Lisa’s family for a long time.
Lisa pushed her cart toward the produce section and began picking through limp-looking heads of lettuce in search of something that didn’t look like it had been sitting in the bin for two weeks. She thought fondly of the gigantic, shiny white grocery where she’d shopped in Gleasonville. Maybe if she put the lettuce in the sink with some water, it would perk up a little.
She methodically continued down every aisle collecting supplies and pantry staples, stocking up so she had enough food to last a while. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to ask Pete about his dietary preferences. She was supposed to be focusing on his recuperation, so he was going to have to eat healthy whether he liked it or not.
Grabbing a can of diced tomatoes, she put it in the cart and noticed Kat, who was arguing with another woman down by the seafood display. It looked like Maria, the woman Larry had been talking to at the bar when Lisa had waited around for him to sign the contracts.
Behind the two women, Bernie the singing butcher was happily conferring with Mrs. Sharpe about the merits of scallops, interspersing his commentary with a stirring rendition of “Octopus’s Garden” by the Beatles. Lisa wasn’t up for dealing with Bernie today. Maybe she’d skip the seafood.
Kat turned away from her friend and headed toward Lisa, who waved hello. Kat pushed her cart up next to Lisa’s and parked it next to the canned goods. She picked up a can of garbanzo beans and gestured her greeting with the can. “Hi Lisa. How’s Harley?”
Daydream Retriever (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 10) Page 15