| |
“All right!” Lisa tossed the masking tape into the pile of painting supplies, ripped the bandana off her head, and let it lie where it fell. “Good grief.” She waded through bags of painting supplies, crumpled newspapers she planned to use to protect the wood floors, and muttered under her breath all the way to her bedroom Saturday morning. “It’s not like I don’t have plenty of projects of my own to work on.” She’d not made the decision to stay in Harrison beyond the summer, but she was living in the duplex rent free. The least she could do, while she waited for a plan, was make a few simple upgrades. That way, if she stayed, she had a decent place to live, and if she moved on, Mom could charge a higher rent to future tenants.
You made a commitment.
Lisa frowned at the voice of her conscience. This is what being raised in a preacher’s house got you. A moral compass that fought against every little infraction. She looked heavenward. “I really, really do not want to spend the day in the company of Dave Sisko.”
Silence was her only answer.
Lisa hunted up Snowflake, settled the kitten in the bathroom with food, water, and the litter box, closed the door, then grabbed her keys. She stomped to her car. Her mood had vacillated all week long. One moment, she was willing to let bygones be bygones where Dave was concerned and even felt a bit giddy at the thought of seeing him again. The next moment, she was filled with resolve, determined to avoid the handsome preacher, knowing that those feelings of anticipation were stupid and likely to get her into more trouble than she wanted to deal with.
But he was just so stinking cute, and the things Jemma had shared made him even more attractive. She felt a little sorry for him as well. Her frustrated breath echoed in the car. Dad had been MIA for ninety percent of her life, but she knew who he was. She could accept that he loved her even if he hadn’t seemed to know how to show it. And she’d always had Mom.
And she’d always had a home. They’d bounced around a lot, never in one place more than four or five years. But she’d always had her own room, her space, her place. A dinner table with at least one loving adult ready to discuss her day and help with her homework, someone to listen to her dreams for the future. To grow up without those things...Lisa could only imagine how hard that would be and the scars it would leave behind.
When she tried to imagine life in an orphanage, she pictured a big room with a dozen beds divided by tiny, cramped dressers. Kids standing in line with a tray to get a tasteless meal. Homework done at a solitary desk. Dreams whispered in a dark room with no one to listen. Mostly she pictured a little boy with no one to love him...ever... and it tugged at her heart. And her heart, aching with sympathy for Dave—a man who was the opposite of everything she was determined to have out of life—was a dangerous thing.
And now? Well, now she was going to be late, and instead of blending in with the others, doing her job, and ignoring Dave, she’d be forced to speak to him...one-on-one...while looking into those gorgeous blue eyes.
***
DAVE FROWNED OVER HIS clipboard as his group of volunteers swarmed, like locusts in a wheat field, over the two dozen donuts he’d brought. His shoulders slumped when the count came up one short. He’d hoped...well, his hopes had never had much bearing on reality. Fretting over Lisa’s absence wouldn’t get the fence rebuilt or the outside of the house scraped.
“Guys! Listen up.” He called the group to order, and they lined up at the foot of the porch, faces eager, ready to get to work, tools slung at their sides like weapons. It reminded him of Nehemiah 4:6. So built we the wall; and all the wall was joined together unto the half thereof: for the people had a mind to work. Dave grinned. That ratty fence didn’t stand a chance.
“OK. Our two projects for the day are rebuilding the fence and getting the outside of the house prepared for a fresh coat of paint.” He called off three names and motioned to the neat stacks of lumber next to the drive. “You guys get started on the fence. Everyone else, pick a side of the house, and start scraping off that old paint. There’s a ladder on each side of the house. Use the buddy system when you need to climb. We’ll switch around a bit after lunch. I’m taking fence-duty for now. Remember your fluids, there’s sunscreen on the porch if you need some, and there are a few extra tools in the back of my truck. Give a yell if you need anything.”
They scattered to their jobs like soldiers moving to battle stations. Dave took a walk around the house to make sure everyone wore gloves and goggles. He didn’t need bloody knuckles or paint chips in eyes to slow them down. Mostly he wanted to make sure that for every one on a ladder, there was a person below ready to offer assistance. Satisfied, he crossed to his truck. He’d hidden his favorite hammer under the seat in the cab. He reached in and felt around, then stretched in further. It must have shifted while he was driving. His fingers brushed the satin finish of the wooden handle. There you are.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Dave jerked at the words and smacked his head on the steering wheel. “Ouch!” He straightened, his hammer in one hand, the other rubbing the tender spot, a frown focused on the newcomer.
“Sorry...again,” Lisa said. “You aren’t bleeding or anything, are you?”
Dave ignored the question and took in Lisa’s paint-splattered jeans and shirt. She was late, but at least she’d come prepared to work. “I thought you weren’t...” He trailed off when her eyes narrowed slightly. You wanted a chance to know this woman better. Are you going to remind her of your disagreement, or be thankful she’s here? “No problem,” he amended. “We’re just getting started.” He motioned to her clothes. “But we aren’t painting today.”
“Oh.” Lisa glanced down at her clothes. When she looked back up, she wore an easy smile. “I’m doing some remodeling at home too. I was painting and lost track of the time.”
Dave nodded. “Perfect. Ready to get back to the fence?”
At her answering nod, he took her arm and led her to the back of the truck. There was one hammer left. He handed it to her, along with a pair of gloves, and motioned to the activity in the yard. “Just pick a spot. Did you eat? I think there are some donuts left on the porch.”
“Thanks.” She hefted the hammer as if checking the weight and balance and stuffed the gloves in her back pocket. “I never turn down sweets. I’ll check that out before I get to work.”
He watched her go. She seemed fine this morning. Maybe he’d blown the whole thing out of proportion. He shrugged it away, his mind moving ahead to the end of the day. She was remodeling. He might be able to leverage that into an opportunity to spend some time with her. He could offer to lend a hand. And if she said yes, they had to eat. Dave rested his hammer on his shoulder and walked to the fence line with a lighter heart than he’d had all week.
***
“OK GUYS. LET’S CALL it a day.”
Lisa stepped back from the house at Dave’s words, dropped the scraper to the ground, and shook off the heavy gloves. She pulled at her sweaty clothes, dislodging a small cloud of dust and paint chips. Fence repair this morning, paint removal all afternoon. Exhaustion was too light a word for what she was feeling. Every muscle and bone in her body ached. All she wanted was a large cheese Coney with onion rings, a hot shower, and a soft mattress, in that order. But wait! She had two rooms of her own to paint once she got home. The thought brought slumped shoulders and a soft whimper.
The rest of the group was moving to the front yard, and Lisa followed, her spirit dragging right along with her feet. She moved to the edge of the porch and sank to the grass. At this point, it was sit or fall. She looked up at Dave as he directed his incredible smile toward the volunteers.
“You guys are the best,” he said. “We’re at least a half a day ahead of schedule. Go home and get some rest tonight. You’ve earned it. We’ll meet back here next Saturday morning. We’ll get busy painting the outside of the house and put some wood sealer on that fence.”
The group shuffled away with tired high-fives and thumbs up. When a pair of frayed jeans and worn tennis shoes stepped next to her, Lisa let her gaze drift up. “Hey, Dave.”
He squatted beside her. “You OK?”
She shook her head. “After careful consideration, I don’t think I can stand.” She managed to straighten her legs, but instead of getting to her feet, she leaned back in the grass. “You can leave me here, I’ll be fine.”
“Do you want me to go borrow a quilt from Mrs. Craig? The nights can still be a little chilly.”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll be dead before morning.”
Dave laughed, stood, and held out a hand. “Come on.”
Lisa took the hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She groaned as over worked muscles took her weight. “Oh, my goodness.” She closed her eyes and willed the throbbing away. “I’m not a slouch. How can I be so sore?”
“Different muscle groups, probably,” Dave answered. “A warm bath’ll help.”
“Yeah. That’s on my list. After dinner and after I do some painting of my own.”
Dave grinned. “You want some help with that?”
Lisa took a step back and crossed her arms, grinning when his ears turned cherry red.
“With the painting, I mean.” His expression was hopeful, but her heart was flashing a yellow danger sign. “I don’t think—”
“I’m sorry about last week. I was out of line with the kitten thing. I’d like a chance to make it up to you.”
Lisa lifted a hand. “It’s not that. You worked harder than any two of us put together today. You need to go home as much as I do. I only have two rooms to do tonight. It’ll take a couple of hours. I’ll be fine.”
“If you let me help, it’ll just take an hour. Think about that. Sixty minutes closer to that hot bath. I’ll even swing by Sonic and grab some dinner.”
The picture his words painted was almost enough to make her weep in anticipation. She took a deep breath. Involvement with Dave Sisko was taboo on more levels than she could count. And aren’t you special? What reason have you got to think he’s offering anything other than friendship? She conceded the point to the annoying little voice in her head. He was probably just lonely. She’d had guy friends before. She could like Dave without liking him. Lisa held out her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal. Foot-long Coney, large onion rings.”
“Chocolate shake?”
“You really know how to sweet-talk a woman, don’t you?”
Dave grinned. “It’s a gift.”