“I can order this in larger bags. It comes in twenty and forty pounds,” Vanessa offered.
“Not a chance.” Nathan plunked a ten-dollar bill onto the counter. “Don’t even start down that path. You could charm a snake into buying a pedicure, but I’m impervious to this particular sales pitch.”
“A pedicured snake?”
He ignored her entertained echo. “Our place is small. I don’t want to have to go out to the garage or backyard to grab a scoop of chow for the little beast.”
“Isn’t that funny? For some odd reason, I figured a man in the construction business would have a big old house.”
“Old, yes; big, no. Evie and I bought an 1865 saltbox back in Massachusetts on our honeymoon.” For the first time, the memory flitted though his mind without tearing a jagged hole in his heart.
“A saltbox? How charming!”
“You wouldn’t have said that if you’d have seen it. The poor thing was slated for destruction. Evie went wild over it and said all the rickety old house needed was elbow grease and love, so we had the place all numbered, dismantled, and shipped out here. I put it back together on a big lot.” Under his breath, he recalled, “We always figured we could add on.”
“Dad’s building me a fort. A giant one with a swing set underneath.”
“Neato! Are you helping?”
Nathan grinned. “He’s sanding the shutters and is going to paint them.”
“If you need an extra pair of hands, I’m willing to help.” She lifted her arms and fluttered her fingers in the air. “A pair of nice guys rescued me, so I can offer to be useful.”
“Dad’s putting a zebra in the backyard. He said he’d need lotsa help with that.”
“A zebra?” Vanessa gawked at him. “You really weren’t kidding when you said if you got one animal, you’d end up with a menagerie!”
Nathan chuckled. “Jeff’s got the wrong idea. It’s a gazebo, not a zebra.”
“No zebra?” His son gave him a dismayed look.
“No zebra. No cats, rats, birds, or lizards, either.” He glanced about the pet shop and hoped he hadn’t missed out on anything readily visible, because sure as the sun rose, if he missed something, Jeff would take that as a promise that he could have one. In the off chance he had overlooked a creature, Nathan shook his finger at his son—as much to keep his attention focused on him as anything else. “Don’t press your luck. We have an agreement, and you’re behind on your end of the deal.”
Jeff blurted out a laugh and slapped his hand over his mouth.
“Just what is so funny?” Vanessa folded her arms on the counter and leaned forward.
“Dad made a joke about our agreement about Lick.” Jeff whispered very blatant clues at a decibel only a first grader would consider secretive. “Behind. End.”
Vanessa made a goofy face. “Well, Buster, you’d better clean up your act. I’m not coming over to help on a fort or a gazebo if I have to tiptoe through the tulips.”
“We don’t got no flowers.”
“Have,” Nathan corrected. “We don’t have any flowers.” Evie loved flowers, and I still can’t stand to tend them. He shoved away the thought and cleared his throat. “I don’t have time to mess with detailed gardening. If something needs more than routine watering and an occasional trimming, you can bet it’s not in my yard.”
“Juggling a thriving business, a kid, and an energetic puppy would be enough for anyone.” Vanessa’s lips pursed, and the impish gleam in her eyes warned Nathan he’d better prepare himself for whatever she’d say next.
“The best thing for you would be some free time. You know: recreation.”
“Is that so?” he asked sardonically.
“Absolutely. Something fun. Let you get out a bit. Be with good people. Enjoy fresh air.”
“Are you—” Jeff bobbed and weaved from one side of his father’s long, lean legs to the other “—sending Dad to summer camp?”
“Nope.” Nathan ruffled his son’s hair. “I think Van’s trying to rope me into playing baseball.”
“Where’s her rope?”
“With the zebra?” Vanessa ventured in a playful tone.
“Sport, I need a minute with Vanessa. Why don’t you go see if you can spot Goldie in the fish tank?” He waited until Jeff was out of earshot, then braced both hands on the counter. It took everything in him to keep from thundering, but he refused to lose control. “Forget it. Just forget this plan of yours to lure me back into church. I know the whole deal—sucker someone into an activity they like, then chip away the defenses until they start attending services. Well, it’s not going to work, Vanessa. Not on me.”
“Okay. I promise I won’t ever invite you to worship. It doesn’t mean you can’t just have a good time with great people.”
“You just don’t get it, so I’m going to be blunt. My wife died. She was a devout believer. We prayed for a miracle, but she died an inch at a time of kidney failure. A good Christian man would have accepted it, but I didn’t. I still haven’t. Call me jaded or bitter or a backslider—I know all of the churchy terms for it. There’s one thing I refuse to be, and that’s a hypocrite. I’m not about to wear a mask and pretend everything is hunky-dory.”
“Who said you have to?”
He slammed his fist on the counter. “I went to church the Sunday after the funeral. I needed God. I needed comfort. Instead, I ended up having to put up with half of the congregation weeping all over me. How was I supposed to console them when all I could do was look at my son and know God took away his mother?”
“I’m sorry you hurt.” She slid her hand over his fist.
“What? No shock that I’d dare to be mad at God?”
Vanessa simply squeezed his clenched fist. “There’s nothing wrong with being angry. God is bigger than your rage, and He’s patient.”
Her response caught him off guard. Embarrassed by his outburst, Nathan mumbled, “I’m not about to darken the door of a church.”
“There aren’t any stained-glass windows or sermons on a ball diamond.” She waggled her brows. “And I’ll help with your gazebo.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Do you drive nails half as well?”
“Just you wait and see.”
Six
Vanessa sat on the edge of the deck they’d just made for the gazebo and winced as Nathan yanked a splinter from his hand. “Want some help with that?”
“Naw. It’s no big deal. I get ’em all the time.”
“When you said you were building a gazebo, I didn’t imagine anything quite this grand.”
The leather of his tool belt made a slight stretching sound, and some of the tools clinked together as he laid back and supported himself on his elbows. He gave her a taunting grin. “In over your head?”
“I’m holding my own.” She gave him a saucy smile. “Except for when it comes to tools. Your cordless power stuff is really nifty.”
“Occupational benefit.”
“Oh, come on. Who are you kidding? Even if you weren’t in the construction business, you’d still have the biggest and best power tools made because they’re big boys’ toys.”
“I collect toys; you collect things with fur, fins, or feathers. From where I sit, it seems like you shouldn’t be throwing rocks since you’re living in a glass house.”
“From where you sit?” Her ponytail swished impudently as she gawked around at the gazebo. “I might have glass walls to my so-called house, but this little house of yours has none at all!”
“Just you wait and see.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “This baby’s going to be done in no time at all.”
She picked up a drill, slipped her forefinger through the trigger loop, and made it whine. “Thanks to these toys.”
“And thanks to you. It’s a lot easier getting things done with an extra pair of hands.”
“I’m having fun.” She turned to go back to work. “We ought to be able to get the main beams up and the benches made today.”
“It’s all part of training her to ignore things. I’ve taken her to construction sites, parades, and high school basketball and football games. She’s learned that noise, vibration, and movement aren’t as important as being a good girl.” Vanessa stroked Amber approvingly. “It’s all a part of learning good puppy manners, and you are a perfect lady, aren’t you?”
“Incredible. Why doesn’t she stretch out?”
“That’s part of her training too. We teach the dogs to ‘be small.’ She’s going to have to fit under seats on a bus, ride in a plane and train, and be in auditoriums. If she stretches out, someone will step on her, or she’ll become an obstacle.”
“How’d you learn all of this?”
“There’s a manual, and I go to puppy-raiser meetings twice a month.”
“Meetings? What do you do?”
“One meeting is usually a combination business and obediencetraining meeting. The second one is normally an outing. We take the puppies somewhere so they can be exposed to a challenging environment or situation and learn how to respond appropriately. It’s a great group of people and dogs.”
She reached over for another length of wood he’d already cut to size. “If you have any wood left over, you could make a doghouse for Lick.”
“Why bother? He’s sleeping in Jeff’s room.”
“I know we’re in California, but it does rain every once in awhile.”
Nathan waved his hand to indicate the gazebo. “And this isn’t enough shelter?”
“That all depends.”
“On what?
She gave him a look of owl-eyed innocence. “If you like eau de wet puppy.”
“Okay. I’m convinced. A doghouse is my next project.”
“Then we’d better get back to work and finish this up.”
A few hours later, they took another breather.
“This yard is huge.” Vanessa scanned. “I’ll bet you have a cool lawn mower.”
“It all depends on what you think is cool. I hired the kid next door to mow and edge. He wanted to earn money for football.”
“He’s probably rich enough to own the team by now. What is this—an acre?”
“Three-quarters of an acre. I tried to keep the gazebo to scale. It would have looked pretty ridiculous to have one of those little scaled-down jobs back here.”
“Yeah, well, Jeff’s fort is so big, I’m expecting the U.S. Navy to billet a few officers in it.”
Nathan bent his head over his palm and plucked out another splinter as he mumbled, “Jeff wanted the extra level and the rope netting. It wasn’t that much more work.”
“Did you really camp out up there last Friday?”
“Yup. Lanterns, sleeping bags, and mosquitoes.” He turned toward the house and yelled, “Jeff, where’s that lemonade?”
The door opened. Jeff stuck his head out and shouted, “I can’t reach the glasses.”
“Aren’t there clean ones in the dishwasher?”
“Huh-unh. We forgot to run it. I can tell ’cuz there’s still pasgetti on the plates.”
“I’ll go help him.” Vanessa sprang to her feet. Amber accompanied her across the lawn and into the house. The minute she got inside, Vanessa sucked in a deep breath. She’d never seen Nathan’s house.
Clearly, a busy man, a little boy, and an undisciplined puppy lived here. School papers cluttered the refrigerator door and the coffee table. Both the telephone and the stove bore spaghetti sauce splatters, and a small bulletin board listed two baby-sitters, several fast-food places, and a few scrawled memos. Two pair of muddy shoes—one small, the other huge—sat on the hearth, and a track of muddy paw prints zigzagged down the hall.
“The glasses are up there.” Jeff pointed to a cupboard on the right side of the sink.
Vanessa opened it and spied a set of earthenware dishes adorned with pinkish flowers around the edges. It seemed so absurdly feminine in a father-and-son home, but that fact tugged at her heart. Clearly, Nathan still held his wife’s memory dear, and he clung to the little things that still kept her alive in his heart. She must’ve been someone very special.
Bypassing the glass tumblers in favor of three mismatched plastic cups, Vanessa said, “These look like good ones to take to the backyard.”
“I’ll pour the lemonade.”
“Okay.” She fought the urge to take over. Nathan encouraged Jeff to be independent, and it wouldn’t hurt anything if they had to wipe up a spill. She took the time to scan the house a bit more.
A woman’s touch was still very evident. Wallpaper of dainty sprays of antique roses covered the far side of the kitchen, echoed by linoleum flooring that held a pattern of tiles with little rose-colored flowers. A five-foot-long pine board hung from the ceiling. Several decorator-quality baskets dangled from pegs on it.
“Forgive the mess,” a deep voice said from behind her.
Vanessa jumped at that sound. “It’s a wonderful place.”
“Consuelo will be back on Monday. She’s spending a week visiting her sister. She manages to keep Jeff out of trouble when he gets home from school and keeps the place from being a total pit. Three days on our own, and we’ve just about demolished the downstairs. Jeff and I were going to pick up a bit before you got here, but—”
“We got busy watching cartoons,” Jeff interrupted.
Vanessa watched red creep up Nathan’s neck. “Don’t be embarrassed. I did the same thing. I was supposed to be sorting through the pots and pans, but I ate my cereal in front of the TV and got stuck on good old Rocky and Bullwinkle reruns.”
Nathan swiped two of the glasses from the counter and handed her one. “Rocky and Bullwinkle, huh?”
“My favorite.”
“So even as a kid, you had a thing for animals.”
“Guilty as charged.” She took a sip. “Great lemonade, Jeff.”
“Thanks. Can the dogs drink some too?”
“No,” Nathan and Vanessa said in unison.
“Why not?”
Nathan looked at Vanessa. “You’re the expert.”
“People food isn’t always healthy for dogs. Every once in awhile, if your dad lets you, you can give Lick some of your leftovers.”
“Oh, great,” Jeff sighed. “Dad always finishes everything. We don’t got no leftovers.”
“We don’t have any leftovers,” Nathan corrected.
“That’s what I said. Poor Licorice is gonna starve!”
Vanessa walked out of the kitchen and into the backyard before she burst into laughter.
A short while later, Nathan pounded one last nail into a board and asked, “Why are you sorting pots and pans?”
“Valene bought a condo. We’re trying to decide who owns what.”
“You mean the Dynamic Duo is splitting up?”
“Hard to imagine, isn’t it? Actually, I think it’s a great move—pardon the pun. Val landed a job in the business office at the hospital. The condo is close, so she won’t have to worry about a long commute.”
“It’s not all that far—about twenty minutes or so?”
“Close enough to still meet and go to church and do things together.”
“Outgoing as you are, you’ll stay busy.” He stuffed the hammer into his tool belt without even looking. “Aren’t you worried Val will feel a bit lost?”
“I think it’ll be a good change for her—she’ll need a little nudging, but she’ll make friends. If anything, I’m going to be lost without her. She’s so organized and capable.”
“Capable? Look at you, Van. You own and run a store. You have an active social life. You’re great at sports, volunteer in the community, and are better with a hammer and saw than half of the men I hire. Don’t sell yourself short.”
She looked into his coffee brown eyes and saw the sincerity there. His praise meant more to her than it probably oug
ht to. Uncomfortable with the sudden closeness she felt, she wiped her palms on the sides of her jeans. “If I do something stupid like forgetting to pay the electricity bill so I lose my power, I’m going to sneak over and sleep in Jeff’s fort.”
Concern creased Nathan’s forehead. “You’re used to splitting rent. Are you going to be in trouble?”
“No, Val wouldn’t ever leave me in the lurch. The shop’s doing well. I can afford to live alone. Amber’s good company, too, aren’t you, Girl?”
Amber wagged her tail.
Nathan looked across the yard at Jeff and Lick as they tumbled in the grass. “Any chance you’ll train him to sit quietly?”
“Are you asking about Jeff or Licorice?”
“Hey. For that, I’m not going to volunteer to help Val move.”
Seven
“Just how much stuff have the two of you squirreled away in this place?” Nathan took in the pile of boxes and blinked in disbelief.
“This place has a lot of storage space,” Valene murmured as she glanced about the apartment.
“She’s only taking her stuff.” Vanessa capped the black marker with a flourish after she finished writing “Kitchen—dishes. Breakable!” on a box.
“Not really. Vanessa’s giving me a bunch of things that probably are rightfully hers.”
“It’s really an excuse for me to go buy new dishes. I want to get something different.”
The shuffle of booted feet at the doorway made them all turn. “Kip! You came.” Vanessa waved him in. “I nearly fought Val to the death so I could keep the coffeemaker. There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen, if either of you men need to get juiced up with caffeine before we start.”
“What? No doughnuts?” Kip crossed the room and slapped Nathan on the shoulder in greeting. “These two women are going to work us half to death, then let starvation complete the job.”
“I suppose this is my cue to say something like, ‘I made Grandma’s cinnamon coffee cake,’ but I probably ought to confess that Valene is taking the couch.”
Nathan stared at the big, pale blue, fluffy-cushioned couch and rubbed his forehead. “How about if I go for the coffee, cake, and no couch?”
Love Is Patient Page 4