Page 30 of Gracie Harris Is Under Construction

“Nice try, Lenny,” I say, dramatically rolling my eyes for full effect. “We often eat lunch together and chat, but then he disappears to different rooms to work his magic. I just don’t get to see the intensity for myself very much.”

“You need to spend a lot of time with someone to get the full picture of who they are. Except for me,” he jokes. “You could have lunch here every day for years and I’d still have my secrets.”

“Dang,” I say in response. “I bet you have really good secrets.”

“Speaking of Josh, I heard some particularly good intel about your handyman and his ex,” Lenny says, looking at me with a knowing glance.

Except, I don’t have a clue what this could be about. An ex? Gossip? Josh, thus far, has struck me as the least controversial person on the planet. He’s basically the man version of strawberry ice cream—not too plain but nothing over-the-top.

“Not sure I follow, Lenny, and I think that maybeyouthink Ican read between the lines,” I say. “Josh doesn’t really tell me much about himself.”

I say it out loud and realize it’s a bit of a silent confession. So far this summer, Josh has shown nothing but interest in me and my story. Yet I really know so little about him. That’s something I should fix—if only so I can better navigate the gossip mill.

Lenny nods and stares. He’s obviously doing the mental math on whether he should share. In the end, as always, his need to talk wins out.

“A few old-timers were in yesterday, including her parents,” he begins, still not giving the ex a name or any description. I’m not being let into the full story—that much is clear. “Now, it’s not my business, but it sounds like she’s coming back to town after some big life changes or something. If she’s not here now, she will be sometime this summer.”

“That doesn’t seem like a big deal,” I reply a little too quickly. “I mean, maybe she’s just coming to see her parents?”

“Not getting worried, are you, Gracie?” he asks, trying to pivot the conversation.

“We’ve been over this,” I say. “Just friends.”

It takes just a little extra effort on my part to say the word “friends” in a convincing tone. Why does it feel weird to hear about his ex? Josh is a grown man with a whole life. I’ve known him for only a couple of weeks.

“Well, if you do learn anything, be sure to let me know,” he says. “Not having the full picture drives me crazy!”

He gives me a big hug (and I’m surprisingly okay with it) before I leave and tell him to enjoy his Sunday off tomorrow. On the short walk home, I pop into the hardware store to say hi to Brian and pickup a few things that Josh has asked him to set aside for his next project.

“How many times do you think he’ll be in when he gets back?” Brian asks me with a smirk on his face. “It was four times in three days this past week.”

“I think he just likes hanging out with you, Brian, because there really is no other logical excuse for it,” I say back. I’ve officially moved into the friend zone with Lenny and Brian when it comes to their teasing about Josh.

“You’re probably right. Josh and I go way back. He was two years behind me in school. He’s a good friend. He helped me get the finances straight here when my dad retired about five years ago. Good Lord, it was a mess in here,” Brian tells me.

I’m probably right that Josh enjoys taking breaks and coming to the hardware store to talk to Brian. It’s a three-minute walk, and he’s an old friend. It also dawns on me that Josh likes supporting the business and will do everything possible not to go to a big home-improvement store if he can give the money to Brian instead. Josh does seem to love his people.

After I pay, I lift a Lenny’s take-out bag onto the counter. I know from previous visits and chats with Josh that Brian skips lunch most days to help keep staffing costs down. Brian’s eyes get big and excited just like Josh’s did the first time I brought a BLT home for lunch.

“Gracie, you did not,” he says in a surprised voice.

“Just a treat from your new favorite customer,” I say with a smile, walking to the door before he can try to give me something for free as a thank-you.

—

I get backto the house and have five minutes to relax before my midafternoon session with Dr. Lisa. I’ve been in Canopy for two weeks and am fully immersed in my new routine. This is the first time I’m able to get a session with Dr. Lisa. She made a special exception for me to meet on a Saturday.

“Gracie, it’s lovely to see you. I’ve been looking forward to our time together and hearing all about your first couple of weeks in Canopy at the new house. How has the adjustment been?”

“It’s gone surprisingly well. Everything about life is easy and comfortable here. I’ve fallen into a wonderful routine, and I have a great person helping around the house.”

“You look wonderful. I can tell you’re getting better sleep. You were carrying a lot of stress about the house in the lead-up to summer. What has changed?”

It’s not like Dr. Lisa to make comments on my physical appearance, so I know the difference must be dramatic. The depression and exhaustion that followed Ben’s death were not how I expected to reclaim the bone structure of my twenties. But good rest and the bits of sunshine from my walks into town seem to have made a difference.

“The truth is that I expected the broken house to be a buzzkill. Not to be obnoxiously poetic, but I thought it would be a painful reminder of the work-in-progress sign I have hanging around my own neck. Instead, I feel possibilities. Potential. I haven’t really felt those two things since Ben died.”

“I was very hopeful this would happen. A change of scenery isoften the best medicine in a situation like yours. Now, you mentioned someone helping you around the house. Tell me about them.”

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