Page 15 of Falling into a Second Chance

He pointed to the box on the wall. “Here.”

Agatha looked at it for a moment and flipped the biggest of the switches. The lights blazed on around them, and the hum of electronics and appliances filled the silence.

“Fixed.” She grinned at him. “But you have got to stop touching anything that you don’t know how to fix.”

“How am I going to learn if I don’t try?” His brown eyes were on her.

“Not by burning down your house, because that’s what would have happened if the circuit breaker hadn’t switched. Fire, Chris.” She folded her arms.

“How did you learn?”

“My mom taught me. I don’t know if she wants to teach you,” Agatha said. Sera had taught them all the basics for house and lawn care. She had single-mom’d like a pro.

“Maybe you could teach me.” He shot his killer grin at her.

Agatha pushed past him. His flirting reminding her of everything that had come before today, but his charm wasn’t going to work on her again. She was over Chris Lowell, had been for years.

“I don’t think so.” She headed back up the stairs to the brightly lit kitchen and stopped in her tracks. “Was it like this when you bought it? Did Hilda live like this?”

The floorboards were twisted and separating from each other. Many of the cabinet doors were gone, and the fridge was in the middle of the room. There was no stove, and the sink was full and overflowing with Styrofoam food containers and pop cans and bottles.

“No, I was working and had some issues,” he admitted from behind her.

“Holy fuck, do you have any idea what you are doing?” she questioned and walked through the kitchen into the dining room that was full of small bits of plaster.

“I’m learning, Agatha!” he said angrily.

Covering her mouth with her hand, she replied, “Have you had this checked for asbestos?”

“I never thought of that.”

“And lead, because there is lead for sure. It’s an old house.” Agatha couldn’t believe what she was seeing. He had only been here a week.

“No, I haven’t,” he admitted and ran his fingers through his hair.

She turned to him. “You should. You’re not living here, are you?”

“Yup, there are five bedrooms.” He shrugged as if the mess wouldn’t kill him.

“I think you should find another place to live.” She suggested looking around the place and wondered if his bedroom was in just as bad of shape as the rest of the house.

“I guess I could get a hotel.” He said the words, but there wasn’t any conviction behind them.

Agatha knew it was late, and by the time he got a hotel room, it would be morning. But she also had empty rooms, a lot of them. Though she hated being a good person, she was.

On a sigh, she said, “Get your stuff. You can stay with me tonight. You’re just lucky I have empty rooms, and I think you might kill yourself if you’re left alone.”

“Hey! I have yet to kill myself,” he said and folded his arms and grinned at her, not saying whether he was taking her up on her offer or not.

“‘Yet’ is the key word. Get your stuff and come over; I’ll make up a bedroom,” she said again and took the flashlight from his hand. She didn’t want to lose them in case he never came over.

Walking out of his house, she wondered what she was doing by letting him stay with her. Really? Christopher Lowell! She was a moron, and she knew it.

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