Chapter Seventeen

ROLLING OVER, Liz peeked at the clock on the nightstand with more than a little trepidation —7:20 a.m. Her alarm had gone off promptly at 6:55, and ever since she’d been lying in bed, barely hearing the light patter of the drizzling rain, staring at the shadows on her bedroom ceiling. Which wasn’t very inspiring. And held no answers for her.

Kind of like her life had felt the past weeks.

Unsettling. And so out of rhythm again.

At first she’d simply attributed the problem to the upheaval in her kitchen. Being unable to cook had left her feeling antsy and with far too much time on her hands.

But the thing was, Daniel had been there every day, pulling down the old ceiling and preparing for the new one. She had no worries and no doubts that he’d have her kitchen back in working order before long. He was every bit as competent as Lydia’s neighbor Jonas had said.

Yet knowing that to be true still didn’t alleviate the deep-seated anxiety gnawing at Liz —the sense that her kitchen ceiling wasn’t the only thing in need of repair.

Too many nights she’d been waking up, lying there in the dark, pondering and praying, wondering if she could continue to make ends meet selling real estate. In the past year, it seemed she’d been putting more effort into her job than ever before —doing more social media, making call after call, trying to solicit new business any way she could think of. And while all of those strategies proved to be effective for other salespeople in her office, for some reason they weren’t working even half as well for her.

Overall, her sales horizon looked dreary and bleak. And yet . . . if she wasn’t able to make a living selling real estate any longer, what was she going to do? It wasn’t like she was getting any younger. Not like she had many options. At least not that she could think of.

Which was why she was still in bed thirty minutes after her alarm had gone off.

“I don’t know, Daisy. I just don’t know. Seems like these days the harder I try to put pieces of my life’s puzzle together, the less they want to fit.”

At the mention of her name, Daisy got up and moved from the foot of the bed up close by Liz, snuggling against her side.

“Oh, thank you, girl. Thank you.” She sighed. “And don’t you worry. Everything will be all right. I’ll snap out of it. I always do.”

But instead of popping up, she kept lying there. Trying to think of a solution, yet feeling as blank as one of the pages in her organizer lately. Until she looked at the clock again and realized Daniel would be at her house, ready to work, in fifteen minutes.

“Time to rise and try to shine,” she told Daisy. But as she climbed out of bed, she wasn’t sure how to dress or what to “shine” for. Had absolutely no idea what she was going to do with herself for the entire day —besides maybe stop in at the Cottage for a quick visit.

Feeling indecisive —and completely unlike herself —she grabbed a pair of black exercise pants from the shelf in her closet along with a faded pink T-shirt. Then, shivering from the slight chill in the house, she pulled her favorite, nearly threadbare purple zip-up from a hanger too.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, she startled at her own reflection in the mirror. If anyone actually could look like they’d been wrestling a bear all night and lived to tell about it, she certainly did.

After hurriedly brushing her teeth, she splashed cold water on her face, thinking it might jump-start her features. But patting her face dry, she realized it hadn’t helped much at all.

That’s when she tried moisturizer. Lots of it. And then color. Five dots of beige foundation, blended in. A streak of grape lipstick to her lips. A swash of pink blush to brighten her cheeks. Followed up with a quick gliding of brown/black mascara sifted through her lashes before hiding them behind her glasses. Then using both hands, she tugged and fluffed at the ends of her spiky hair. She hadn’t yet gotten to the back of her head when the doorbell rang.

Daniel!

Daisy eagerly loped ahead of her down the stairs, having grown as happily accustomed to their daily visitor as Liz. Standing in the entry, the dog wagged her tail expectantly, and Liz knew just how she felt. The day got better the moment she opened the door and spied Daniel’s sweet grin and friendly face.

“Hey, Liz.”

“Hey there!” she said, taking in his fresh look for the day. Shaven, dressed in a green plaid shirt and jeans and smelling like something fruity and outdoorsy all at the same time, Daniel looked a far cry from the plaster-covered guy who had left her house most evenings.

Daisy, however, didn’t have quite as much of an attention span. Scoping out a squirrel in the front yard, she scooted around their legs and bounded out of the house.

“Whew! Let me try that again.” Liz chuckled, thankful Daisy hadn’t knocked either of them over in her excitement. “Good morning.”

“It is a good morning.” Daniel’s smile was like a conduit illuminating every feature of his face as he stood there holding a cardboard carrier with two coffees instead of the usual one for her. “I thought I’d bring something different this morning.” He lifted a large white bag in his opposite hand. “It’s a quiche. I hope you like sausage.”

“I do. It sounds wonderful!” she said, wishing so badly that instead of lying in bed stressing she would’ve gotten up and done more to fix herself up. But he didn’t appear to notice her haphazard makeup job.

“Good!” he replied, then paused, surprisingly apprehensive for him. “The only thing is I, uh, I couldn’t eat quiche on the fly like I usually do the muffins from the bakery, so —”

“You could join me while I eat mine.”

He looked relieved. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me doing that.”

Was he kidding? Her heart leapt at the chance. If she couldn’t share a cooked breakfast of her own, at least she could share her hospitality. “Why don’t you set all of that on the coffee table while I grab a couple of things from the kitchen?”

She made her way to the kitchen and tiptoed across the dusty floor, gathering up all she needed. In a matter of minutes she returned to the family room and set the coffee table with her best blue place mats, creamy white plates, two juice glasses, and her better silverware, along with a wedged pie cutter. That, of course, was after rinsing and shaking everything out, making sure the items were all plaster and dust free.

Daniel eased onto the floor, stretching out his legs as he leaned against the bottom section of her sofa. Before she joined him, she retrieved a small carton of orange juice from the mini fridge across the room and filled both of their glasses. Then also filled their plates with the delicious-looking quiche.

Bowing his head, Daniel offered up a silent prayer before he lifted his fork. Liz felt moved to do likewise before they began to sample the special treat he’d brought.

If it hadn’t been spitting rain all morning, the sight outside the patio door to their right might have been more inviting. But currently the bird feeder was void of any fine feathered friends, and the yellow and bronze chrysanthemum blooms around the perimeter of the patio had been beaten down by the rain, looking more like eyesores than eye-catching at the moment. Even so, inside Liz’s family room all was good. Very good.

“This is nice.” She looked up from her plate. “And the quiche is incredible. Delicious.”

“I agree on both counts,” he replied in between bites.

“Where did you get it? And how have I missed knowing about something this tasty?” she wondered out loud.

“You haven’t overlooked anything. It’s from Annabelle’s in Millersburg. You probably just don’t head that way too often.”

“You’re right; I don’t.” She stopped and sipped at the coffee —which, she realized, like her new friend, she was getting more used to and enjoying more all the time. “So what are you up to in the kitchen today?”

“Well, today is a big day in the life of your kitchen. It’s the end of phase one, getting everything ready before the new ceiling goes up.”

“You sure have been working hard on it, Daniel.”

“It’s definitely getting there.” His eyes shone with appreciation. “How about you? What’s on your agenda for the day?”

She’d been enjoying his company and the breakfast he’d brought, but suddenly his question brought on the same heavy, lost feeling that had kept her lying in bed too long that morning. She could feel her heart sink at the thought of what the rest of the day held —or more like, didn’t hold. “I’m not sure —which, I have to tell you, feels very strange.”

“You’re not going to the office?”

She sighed, dangling her fork in midair. “I don’t know. Here it is Thursday and I was there yesterday and all the days before that, as you know. But nothing seems to change. Or not for the good anyway.” She shook her head, repeating some of the bleak news she’d already shared with Jessica and Lydia. “I had a sale pending that fell through. Then was waiting for a client to make a bid on a house, but now that couple is hedging. I know I have to scare up some business, but going into the office doesn’t seem like the answer. I don’t know what is.”

She shrugged, feeling helplessly confused. “I have to admit it’s beginning to worry me. So much that I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night,” she admitted and would’ve been embarrassed that she’d said so much if he hadn’t answered her with one of his gentle, empathetic smiles.

“It’s hard being self-employed. Waiting for things to fall into place is tough,” he offered. “But you know, one way or another, things typically do.”

“I usually think the same thing. I do. But this time . . . I don’t know. I’m not getting that feeling.” She sighed. “I feel like the more I pray for things to fall into place, the more they keep falling apart.”

“It does seem like that at times.” He nodded agreeably. “And in the meantime, it’s hard to do what we need to do. To trust in God’s plans and to wait on His timing. We’re generally not as patient with Him as He is with us,” he quipped, causing her to smile.

“You’re absolutely right about that.” She poked at her quiche self-consciously. “Daniel, I’m sorry I blurted all of that out. Thank you for listening. It’s sweet of you.”

“We all have our days,” he acknowledged easily. “At least you’ll feel better about life after your workout.” He nodded to her outfit. “Looks like you’re going to the gym at some point today, right?”

“I could if I belonged to one. No doubt, I could use the exercise.” She glanced down at her front side, which, along with her backside, had never been smaller than a size 12, but at one time at least had been a fitter version.

“Oh, I just thought seeing your outfit maybe that was the case. I mean, I wasn’t suggesting anything,” he backpedaled. “You look fine to me.”

She smiled, thinking how sweet he was to say so even though it wasn’t true. At all. Which reminded her she’d never finished spiking the hair at the back of her head. Reaching up, she daintily fluffed the flat spot there, pretending to scratch an itch.

“Yes, well . . .” Her eyes drifted to the glass patio door. “I suppose I could get some exercise with a walk in the rain.” She took her last bite of quiche and laid her fork aside.

“True. Or . . .”

“You can say it. I’m open to suggestions,” Liz said as she started to cover the remaining quiche with the plastic pie lid and gather up their silverware.

“You could help me.”

“Really? I could?” At last, a purpose to her day?

“I could sure use an extra pair of hands and eyes.”

“And you’re certain you want those hands to be mine? I mean, I know my way around a kitchen, but not when it’s under repair.”

Dipping his head slightly, he answered, “I think you can handle it.”

“Then I’m your girl!” she blurted.

When he chuckled, she suddenly realized how her words sounded. “I’m sorry, I just meant —”

He held up his hand to stop her. “No need to apologize, Liz.” His tone was reassuring. “I’m glad you said yes. Though you may be thinking differently after a long day of working with me.”

“And vice versa.” She laughed.

The work was tedious and neck-breaking, and the hammer got heavy at times as Liz worked with Daniel, removing the hundreds of rusty nails from the overhead wood laths that had been exposed once he’d removed virtually her entire ceiling.

But even if the job was drudgery, being around him wasn’t at all. They talked easily and shared comfortable silences too. Plus, he was sensitive to her needs, encouraging her to take breaks to save her neck. But she didn’t quit until he did, wanting to be as much help as she could. Besides, it felt good having something to show for her efforts for a change. Even if it was only a pile of rusty nails.

Once they’d tackled that job together, they stopped for a quick peanut butter and jelly lunch. Then spent the rest of the day sweeping and cleaning the area the best they could, preparing it for phase two. The last phase.

“How much longer till it’s all finished?” Liz asked as she and Daisy watched Daniel put away his tools for the day.

His brows knit together thoughtfully before he spoke. “I’d say there’s maybe another week of work left. Not necessarily full days. Some of that will be downtime while I’m waiting for things to dry in between the different coats that need to be applied.”

“Oh!” she said, completely unprepared for that answer. Not ready for the work to be completed so soon. Of course, she’d be happy to have her kitchen back. She’d been missing it so much. But at the same time, when the days were up, she knew she’d be missing something else. Daniel’s presence. Which she’d so easily gotten used to. “That’s no time at all.”

She felt a strange ache in her chest and experienced even stranger thoughts in her head, wishing she’d close on a house or two in the next week so she could hire him on for more projects.

“No, it isn’t long, is it?” He snapped his toolbox shut and stood up. “It’ll be here and gone before you know it.”

While he dug in his jeans pocket for his keys, Liz reached down to pet Daisy, more for her own comfort than her pup’s. “Thanks for everything today, Daniel. For listening. For letting me help out. Oh, and for the quiche.”

“Yeah, about the quiche . . .” He played with the key fob in his hand.

“Oh, right. You should take the rest of it home with you.” She started for the mini fridge.

“No, Liz.” He held up a hand. “That’s not what I meant. Earlier I was thinking, well . . .” He looked away for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “Since you liked the quiche from Annabelle’s so much, you’d probably enjoy their dinners, too.”

“You know, you’re right. I probably would,” she replied. “I’ll have to go there sometime.”

“I think you should,” he agreed. “How about a week from Friday?” He gazed directly into her eyes.

His question completely surprised her, and she wasn’t sure how to take it. Was he asking her on a date? Asking as a friend? Or thinking her ceiling might be complete by then, and it’d be a sort of celebration? Does it matter? her brain shouted. After all, it was dinner with Daniel. The nicest person ever. Why question why?

“That’d be great, Daniel.”

“Yes, I think it will be, Liz.” But even as he said it, she thought he looked a bit surprised at himself for asking too.