Home to Stay by Maryann Jordan
7
John’s eyes grew larger as he neared the end of the lane and Lucy’s little house came into view. Work in progress? Several shutters painted deep green were propped against the porch while several others were in various stages of sanding or repair. A large shed was to the side but there was no way to use it as a garage considering it listed slightly to one side and a heavy snow could bring it down. The front of the one-story house was painted white, but the side visible to him was faded and in serious need of attention.
He parked next to her little car, his large, new SUV dwarfing her older vehicle. He’d finally turned in his rental and purchased a similar SUV, spending more money than he thought possible for his wheels. But he had to admit, for his first big purchase since leaving the service, he chose well. Climbing down, he walked toward the front, uncertain if the porch would hold his weight.
The front door opened, and Lucy grinned up at him. “You found me! I’m so glad you’re here!”
His delight at seeing her was thwarted slightly when he realized she was peering through a screen door that had no screen. She pushed on the door frame, opening it as she welcomed him inside.
“Good to be here. Thanks for inviting me.” Once inside, he held her gaze, meeting her smile with one of his own.
“Make yourself at home. I need to check on the chicken.” She waved her hand around the living space, adding, “I told you, it’s a work in progress. I know it might seem a mess but I’m working on it slowly.” Turning, she hurried down the short hall and disappeared into what he assumed was the kitchen.
He looked toward the living room, seeing rough, scarred wooden floors and a stone fireplace with built-in bookshelves on either side. The fireplace appeared sturdy although he had no idea what condition it was in. The bookshelves on either side were steadied with two-by-fours nestled among the books, keeping the bowed shelves from falling.
“You can come on back,” she called, and he followed her voice, glancing inside the powder room to see a sink with the plumbing intact underneath but no faucets above. Shaking his head, he stopped just inside the kitchen. An old stove emitted delicious scents and he was grateful at least it worked properly. Her ass was perfectly displayed as she bent to take something from the refrigerator. Glad that appliance was working as well, he shifted his stance to hide the fact that blood was running from his brain to his cock.
“Do you need some help?”
She twisted around as she placed a large bowl on the counter and shook her head. “No, it’s almost ready.” She looked past him, a crinkle forming on her brow. “My table is rather small, so I think we’ll serve our plates from here if that’s okay.”
He glanced behind him to see a small, round, wooden table that appeared to be antique with two chairs on either side. The chairs were also small, and he hoped they would support his weight. Looking back, he longed to smooth the worry from her face. “That’s perfect. It’s just us, and I’d rather it be easy and informal anyway.”
With deft efficiency, she placed a pan of cheesy chicken enchiladas on a trivet sitting on the counter. Next, she placed bowls of guacamole, homemade salsa, sour cream, and cheese. Opening a large bag of tortilla chips, she poured them into another bowl.
“This looks great,” he said, forgetting the state of her house and focusing on the food in front of him.
She thanked his compliment with a wide smile as she handed him a plate. “Go ahead and fill up, you can always come back for seconds and thirds if you want. What would you like to drink? I have iced tea, beer, wine…”
“Beer would be great.”
She grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator and set them on the table. He continued to stand to the side, holding his plate, until she joined him. Once the dishes were piled high, he eased into the chair, making sure it would hold his weight despite its slight wobble. Her laughter greeted his ears, and he looked across the table.
“I can tell you’re afraid to sit down, but honestly, that chair can hold my brother or my dad.”
That told him her family must know the state of her house, and after a moment of eating, he dipped his toe into the questions. “So, it looks like you’re doing some work around the place.”
Her laughter rang out again, and he loved the sound of it.
“You’re being very polite. And doing some work around the place would be an understatement, to hear my dad talk about it. He says my house is a disaster, and I’m a disaster in it!”
He frowned at the thought of her family not appreciating her efforts, but she quickly rushed to explain.
“He just worries, that’s all. He and my brother come by sometimes to offer advice or to help, but they finally understand that I want to do most of it myself. Plus, they have jobs they need to take care of. My mom encourages my projects, but I think she worries a bit also. As long as I promised that I won’t climb on the roof without letting one of them know, she’s pretty chill about it all.”
“I understand you doing the painting and tackling some of the carpentry, but I couldn’t help but notice the plumbing in the bathroom…” He left the statement open-ended, hoping she wouldn’t be offended.
Chewing, she swallowed first, then took a sip of beer before hefting her shoulders in a shrug. “That’s what YouTube videos are for.”
His fork halted on the way to his mouth, his brow furrowing as he discerned her meaning. “You’re watching YouTube videos to learn how to do the plumbing?”
She nodded with enthusiasm, her fork waving in the air as she spoke. “You can find YouTube videos on just about everything. I mean, I wouldn’t try to do my electricity because I don’t want to catch my house on fire or electrocute myself—”
“Thank God for that!”
Either she didn’t hear his incredulity or chose to ignore him as she continued. “But I learned how to sand my shutters before painting them. I learned how to do a few repairs, although I find the plumbing a bit more difficult.”
“Is there a reason you want to do it all yourself?”
He noticed a small dab of cheese on the corner of her mouth, and as her tongue darted out to lick it away, he wished he could have leaned across the table and done that for her. As she began to answer his question, he was forced to remind himself what he’d asked.
“Money, for one thing. I don’t have the money to pay someone to do everything for this house that needs to be done. But the other thing is just setting a goal and wanting to see it through. I really like knowing that I’m putting my blood, sweat, and tears into this place.”
“What will you do when you finish?”
She shrugged, her smile drooping slightly. “I’m not sure. I’m making it my own, but I don’t know that it’s my forever home. It’s sort of hard to look into the future and know what I want.” She glanced around. “I mean, it’s a great cottage but too small for a family if I’m lucky enough to have one.”
A flash of her being married slammed into his mind, and his breath caught in his throat, hating the idea of her with another man. How the hell can I be jealous? We’ve just met. But as soon as that thought hit him, he shook his head. No, that’s not true. We’ve been getting to know each other for the past eight months through the letters.
“Are you okay?” she asked, drawing his gaze back to her. “You seemed lost in thought.”
“Oh… I was just thinking of this place. Um… you seem to have several projects going on all at once.”
A wide grin brightened her already-beautiful face. “I started on the shutters because that seemed easy. But then I hated the drip in the bathroom sink, so I decided to stop on the shutters and work on that first. Of course, that was all after I’d started to work on the shelves close to the fireplace. I think, as a homeowner, I’m very distractible when it comes to my projects.”
His brows lifted. He wanted to offer to assist, but she’d already mentioned her family doing the same thing and she’d wanted to work on projects herself. Still… “Well, if you ever want someone to work with, just let me know. I’ve been doing projects on Gramps’ house.”
Her smile shot straight through his chest. Deciding to leave the subject of her house alone, he asked questions about her class, bringing an even brighter smile to her face. By the time they made it to double chocolate cake, he was more relaxed than he’d been in years.
Working side by side, they washed the dishes and put away the few leftovers. Grabbing two more beers, she led him on a tour of the house, excitedly detailing the improvements she wanted to make. It was hard not to catch her enthusiasm, and he chuckled at her many misadventure stories.
“I couldn’t believe I didn’t get stung when I found the hornet’s nest behind the shutter on the side window. And don’t even get me started on the attic. I know there’s room for storage up there, but I poked my head up there and immediately shut the door! I’m terrified of bats! I found a snakeskin in the shed and that’s why I haven’t been back out there. My dad told me to stay out until he had a chance to check it out.”
“Sounds like you’re really close to your family.”
They settled on the sofa, and she twisted her body so that she could face him with one leg tucked underneath her. Bright eyes sparkled as she talked about her cottage, her family, and her students. He loved hearing her voice, wanting to know everything about her, and fought the urge to reach over to take her hand or rest his fingers on her shoulder, anything to have a physical contact to match the emotional pull filling him.
She ducked her head and sighed. “I’ve talked so much that I’ve barely given you a chance to say anything.”
“I like listening.” Fascinated by her, he’d like to do more than listen. Staring at her lips that were so close, it would only take a short distance to be able to kiss her. Holding back, he wanted to take it slow. She’s not like the women hanging around the base looking to score. Blowing out a shallow breath, he hoped she would keep talking.
Her lips were still curved upward, but her eyes focused directly on his face. “I’d like to hear more about you. What you’re doing, what your plans are.”
Suddenly, the cold finger of self-consciousness moved over him, and he hesitated, lifting his hand to squeeze the back of his neck. “There’s not much to tell that you don’t already know. I joined the Army right after high school. Did sixteen years and flying shrapnel took away my career. So, right now, I’m out of a job, out of a career, living with my grandfather, and don’t have a clue what’s next.”
As the words left his mouth, he hated the sound of the pity party they created. But Lucy was a beautiful, educated woman. Fully employed as a teacher. Surrounded by a family that cared for her, offering her advice and assistance when needed. And she was fixing up a house all on her own, just by learning, doing, making mistakes, and finding successes beyond those mistakes. There’s not a goddamn thing I’ve got to offer her.Right now, I’m an unemployed ex-soldier.
Suddenly, the room seemed too small, the air too thick. He stood, placing his half-empty beer on the coffee table. “Listen, dinner was great but I’d better be going.”
Her eyes widened as her mouth fell into a silent circle, her surprise evident. “O… kay…”
He walked to the door, his mind and body in agony as it battled the desire to offer her anything he could while knowing he had nothing to give. He was halfway down her porch steps by the time she had followed and reached out to grab his arm. He whirled around, hating the disappointment on her face.
“So… um… you’ll still be at the school on Wednesday?”
His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “Yeah… I’ll be there.”
“Okay, good. Well, I’ll see you around? Maybe you can text… or something?”
He heard the hope in her voice but swallowed deeply, wanting to squash what he knew would lead to nothing. “I’ll be pretty busy. Got lots to do for Gramps.”
Her head nodded in jerks, and he hated the way her smile had turned tremulous. “Okay. Well… thanks for coming. Bye, John.”
He offered a chin lift as he turned to walk out her door. A fuckin’ chin lift? Fine for the guys, but that sucks as a thank you for dinner. He opened his mouth to refute his abrupt departure, lifting his hand toward her, but she had already backed through the door, her hand raised in a little wave. Turning, he stalked toward his SUV, climbing inside, a tidal wave of anger at himself threatening to sweep him away.
After a three-point turn, he drove down her long drive and allowed himself a last look in the rear-view mirror. She was standing at the window, staring out at him. His hand slammed against the steering wheel and he cursed the end of his career, the black that would always stay just to the left of him, being unemployed and feeling useless… and most of all, being a goddamn pussy for walking away from Lucy.
He had hoped his grandfather would already be in his room by the time he got home, but his luck wasn’t holding out. As soon as he stepped into the house, Gramps, leaning back in his recliner, took one look at him and said, “What put that dark look on your face? Thought you were having dinner with that teacher?”
“Her name is Lucy.”
“Okay, Lucy. But from the scowl on your face, I won’t be meeting her anytime soon, so it doesn’t matter what I call her. What happened? Her cooking bad?”
Scowling, he stomped over to the sofa and flopped down onto the cushions. “No, her cooking was fine.”
Gramps muted the TV. “So, what’s got your boxers in a twist?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to deny that his boxers were in a twist, but considering Gramps was reading him correctly, it would’ve been a foolish lie. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “She’s great, the meal was fine, the conversation fun. But we’re not right for each other, so it just didn’t seem like there was any reason to stick around.”
“Just not right for each other? What the hell does that mean? What’s that word they use? High maintenance? Is that what she is? Or maybe she comes from a highfalutin family? Lives in a big house with a big bank account and thinks her shit don’t stink?”
Bolting upright, John shook his head, the crinkle deepening in his forehead. “Gramps, she’s none of that! She’s a hard-working teacher living in a cottage that seriously needs work, and she’s convinced herself she can fix it up and make repairs, even though she’s had to watch videos to discern the difference between a screwdriver and a hammer. And while her methods may be a little nuts, what she has accomplished looks good. She’s beautiful in a very natural way. Comes from a working-class family that’s close. And the dinner was good. Not fancy, but good eating and lots of it.”
Gramps had a twinkle in his eyes when he leaned back in his recliner. “Hmph. I can certainly see why you came home in a bad mood after spending time with a woman like that.” The silence closed in around them for a moment before Gramps finally asked, “Boy, you want to tell me what’s really stuck in your craw?”
John continued to let the silence fill the room, but it settled like a scratchy wool blanket, one he wanted to toss off. “I’ve got no job, Gramps. For the past couple of weeks, I could pretend I was just on leave. Visiting here, helping you out, taking time off. But being with Lucy, knowing I’d like to see her again, it was like I was hit over the head with the realization that I’m an unemployed vet… an unemployed, limited vision vet.”
The whump of the recliner snapping to an upright position sounded out in the room, and John jerked his head to the left so he’d have a clearer vision of his grandfather. His grandfather’s scowl matched the expression etched onto his own face.
“Now that’s a load of crap if I ever heard it. On top of that, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I certainly am!”
Blinking, he opened his mouth but his grandfather’s fist slamming down on the arm of his recliner stopped any words from coming.
“You got your health. Yeah, I know, you had an injury and lost part of your vision. But you can see. You can move. You came back with all your limbs. Looks to me like everything on you is working but your brain!” Gramps heaved a great sigh, his voice shaking. “Boy, I know you’re not happy with how things played out, but a helluva lot more people came home in worse shape than you, and those are the ones who came home alive. Do you think I didn’t worry? You think I didn’t lay awake at night in fear of soldiers showing up at the door again like they did with your dad?”
Shame slithered through his body, threatening to choke off his breath. So focused on his disappointment, he’d never considered the emotions of his grandfather. “Fuck… I never thought…”
“That’s what I’m saying. You aren’t using your God-given brain other than feeling sorry for yourself.”
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he let his head fall back onto the sofa cushion again. He thought of Kyle, whose broken ankle would probably never heal enough to allow him to go back as a SEAL. And Jaxson. He winced at the memory of Jaxson’s injuries. I need to text those guys. Check up on them. Do something besides just bemoaning my situation. “You’re right, Gramps.” His voice was soft, his words resigned.
“Getting injured just four years out of retirement sucks, John. I get that. But you’ve got possibilities out there. Hell, Horace is setting you up with a meeting with his boss. And if that don’t work out, there are other things for you. So, maybe the time isn’t right for you and this teacher—Lucy. But that don’t mean you don’t have a helluva lot to offer the right woman.”
Before John had a chance to respond, Gramps pushed himself out of the recliner and mumbled, “Going to bed. I’ve said my piece, and you can chew it over.” He walked stiffly up the stairs, his hand tossed upward in the air as his silent ‘goodnight’.
John sat alone in the dark living room for a long time, memories of the past vying for attention with thoughts of the present. But when he finally headed to bed, it was the disappointed expression in Lucy’s eyes as he abruptly left her house that followed him into sleep.
