Page 21 of Frosted and Sliced

She trotted dutifully behind, not knowing what to anticipate. In the last few weeks, she and Burke had settled into an odd sort of roommate relationship. He didn’t pay her rent, but she’d noticed several small repairs he’d made around the place. He ate her food, which probably put the balance of the arrangement in her corner, but in truth she always made too much. Having him nearby to hoover up the leftovers had saved her from foisting things on Brody or stuffing her freezer. And, dare she admit, it wasnicehaving someone around. Georgette hadn’t realized she was lonely, or if she had, she hadn’t realized the extent of her loneliness. Having always been a loner, she thought she was comfortable with only herself as a companion. But having Burke in her orbit had been unexpectedly fortifying. If she realized something was broken in the inn, she told Burke. Not only did it take a little stress off her shoulders to be able to share that burden, but she had confidence he would add it to the list of repairs he kept.

If she were being honest, she also enjoyed the altruistic aspect of their arrangement. Whatever his issue, Burke seemed to be going through something at the moment. Though he hadn’t said as much, Georgie got the sense he was both homeless and jobless, mostly because he’d arrived with a couple of duffle bags and hadn’t gone to work since he showed up. It was nice to help someone down on his luck, even if she never got anything in return. The fact that he'd been taking care of little repairs was, well, hot fudge, in her mind. It had been so helpful and comforting to have him there that she didn’t really care if he never followed through and touched the attic, which made it even more shocking when she stepped into the attic and saw the space completely transformed.

“You cleaned it,” she blurted. The lack of dirt, dust, and mouse detritus was her first clue that something was different. The next was the lumber framing everywhere.

“It was either clean it or get the plague, and I swore to myself I’d never succumb again, after last time,” he said. He picked up a rag and absently wiped his hands, as if still trying to rid himself of the space’s former grit.

“How did you do this?” How had he not only cleaned out the space but brought in all the lumber and assembled it, without her notice.

“You get really in the zone, when you’re busy,” he said.

That was true, plus it wasn’t as if she would have heard him moving around, sawing, or hammering things. But still. Did it bother her that he had done something so monumental, without her awareness? On some level, but more than that, she was impressed. He was more than a handyman; he was a full-on contractor.

“I thought you’d want to have input, before it’s too late,” Burke said.

“Everything is already framed,” she noted.

“It can be un-framed. That’s easy to move. Drywall would be harder, plus plumbing. I haven’t started on that yet, so speak now or forever hold it, no pun intended.” He walked forward a few steps. “This is where I think the bathroom should go, with a shower, tub, and double sinks.”

“All this?” she said, spinning slowly in the framed space. “It’s so big.”

“It won’t look that big, with all the stuff in here.”

Georgie swallowed hard.

“What? You don’t like it?”

Of course Burke would go from oblivious to observant and chatty, when she wanted to remain silent. “Of course I like it, it’s amazing. Or it will be, when it’s finished. But, Burke, I can’t afford any of this.” She motioned around. The lumber alone must have cost a small fortune, to say nothing of the coming plumbing, electrical, and drywall costs.

“I told you to let me worry about that,” he said. “I’m not paying rent, remember.”

“I’m not completely ignorant of construction costs. This has to be way more than rent.”

He sighed. “Georgie, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You have to make an itemized list of your expenditures and let me make up the difference, after whatever you’d be paying in rent,” she said.

He looked at her with something she couldn’t interpret. It was intense and almost…pleading? “I have some money,” he began slowly.

“You shouldn’t have to use your money on my inn. I’m not rich, but I’m not completely destitute. You have to let me help you.”

He put out a hand, resting it on her forearm to halt her. “You didn’t let me finish. I have some money, but what I don’t have isa home, a place to go. Being with you here…” he trailed off, eyes darting away. “It sucks less than other places.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling hot and cold and squeamish, all at once. How could she say no to that? She, who had also searched for a place to belong, could never deny a fellow outcast. “Okay. I like this bathroom arrangement, but it needs a linen closet.”

“How about here, behind the door,” he suggested.

“I like that,” she agreed, nodding. Her gaze fell on the blow up mattress he’d been using, the only furniture in the room. She twisted her fingers together, feeling guilty. “You know, Burke, you’re welcome to move downstairs, to a real bed. The inn is almost never full.”

“I like my space, and I like it up here.”

“We should at least move a real bed up here.” She’d have to buy a new bed, but it was the least she could do for him.

“Georgie.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t fuss over me, I’m fine. I like things spartan. Eventually there will be a bed and other furniture up here. For now it’s less stuff to have to maneuver around, when I’m working.”

His hand on her shoulder felt heavy, but also warm and comforting. Georgie had to make herself not lean into it. Apparently she was hungrier for physical affection than she realized. How odd that it was now coming from Burke, of all people.

“Do you want me to make you some cocoa?” she offered, peering almost shyly up at him, as he loomed over her.

---