Page 16 of Lovingly Restored

“Did he text? Did he call? Did you reply?” Her voice is squeaky.

Anna is spiralling, but I need her to be solid for me.

“No, will you shut up for a second?”

She presses her lips together, and there is, momentarily, a peacefulness in the kitchen where the only sounds are the water boiling in the kettle and the clock ticking above the back door. Then I hear the now familiar rumble of the big Ford truck vibrating its way down the driveway. The detached garage isn’t far off from the kitchen, and the Old Country Roses teacups that I’d set out actually rattle.

“Ashlyn,” she drags out my name, “what is that noise?”

I hear her, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the window above the apron front sink. Seconds later, sauntering into view, is the impressive backside of one Isaac Lauri carrying an assortment of bags and boxes out of the garage. Every posterior muscle flexes under the weight of his cargo, and my mouth is dry by the time he disappears inside the other out building.

“Who on Earth,” she joins me at the sink, “is that?

At that moment he exits the building, running his hands through that dirty, dirty blond mane. When his eyes flick up, they land right on mine. Of course they do. I make a choking sound and grab Anna’s hand, ducking down and pulling her with me without a second thought.

“Thatis Isaac.”

How the hell am I going to do this cohabitation thing when the man just, quite literally, brought me to my knees?

“So many questions. But brain is mush,” says Anna next to me.

I explain quickly, not knowing how much time I have. What if he comes in the back door to the kitchen and asks me why we’re playing hide and seek? “The man who hired me for this position is Isaac’s dad. Isaac is Mrs. Lauri’s grandson, and, as of today, hemoved in with her.”

Anna creeps up into a semi-squat to peek out the window again.

“Stop that.” I smack her butt over her black jeans. “That’smyhot roommate.”

She raises her eyebrows at me. “That’s messed up, Ashlyn. What are the chances?”

I groan because she’s right. West Isle is not a big town by any means, but this is too weird. Anna pours the tea for me while I remain in a puddle on the clean kitchen floor, admiring the gleaming tiles, even if they’re icy cold.

“So, what are you going to do?” Anna asks.

“Nothing. I want this job. Ineedthis job. It pays well, and you know how bad I want to have something bigger than my apartment.”

I can’t care less about the square footage of the actual house. Give me some soil to sink my hands into. I crave the pressure of cool earth around my fingers. I’m already hoping this job extends into the spring and summer and I can find the courage to ask Mrs. Lauri to do some yard work. All of this is temporary, but I can’t help myself. I stare out at that yard every day, and it’s such a waste.

An hour has passed, and I’ve already listened to Anna’s hair salon gossip, given Mrs. Lauri her tea, and helped her get into bed for an afternoon rest. I cleaned the kitchen within an inch of its life and, of course, glanced out the window about three hundred times. I’m gripped with a wild curiosity about what is in that out building and what Isaac is doing inside.

“You don’t think he’s, like, hiding anything in there, do you?” I ask, sinking into a dining chair with my second cup of tea.

“Like what?”

“Contraband?”

“I can’t with you. Those are bags from a hardware store, weirdo.”

“Great. So, it could be saws and tape and those long plastic things that go on your wrists.”

She tips her head to one side, “Zip ties?”

“Sure. Those.”

Anna tucks her phone in her pocket and places her teacup in the sink.

“Are you leaving? Don’t. I’m not above begging.”

“You live here, and apparently, so does he. You’re going to have to get used to each other. Be cool.”

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