Page 37 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
“You. And Henry. The real Henry. I tell you guys things I’ve never told anybody else, and I don’t know either of you. Especially you.”
Henry dropped the hand towel onto the counter behind him. He folded his arms across his chest and feigned a smug smile. “You read what Henry wrote. I’m a good guy. What else do you need to know?”
Edith rolled her eyes and folded her arms in a mirror imitation of him. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe who you are, what you do, why you’re helping me—things along that nature.”
“You want to know what I do? Fine.” Hopefully she didn’t notice how he’d skipped right over her first question. “I own a painting and construction company.”
“Oh.” Her brow wrinkled in thought a moment before smoothing out again. “And do you like it? Owning your own company?”
Henry shrugged, searching for how to answer that. “The office side of it isn’t exactly what gets me out of bed in the morning. Or the painting. But yeah, I like construction. I love being a contractor. I love carrying on my family’s business. It’s just...”
“Just what?”
“I don’t know. Boring, I guess.”
Edith’s brows rose as she unfolded her arms and leaned against the counter. “Boring how?”
“The projects we’ve been getting. It’s all little stuff. Remodeling a kitchen. Upgrading a bathroom. Adding on a new deck. I want to build something from scratch. Something unique. Something that’s a challenge.”
“So why aren’t you?”
“Can’t do projects you don’t get hired for. That’s the problem with having a small crew.”And a town that doesn’t completely trust you.“Everybody watches HGTV these days and thinks a house can be built in a week. But it takes time. Back when my dad started, the average square footage of a house was about 1,100feet. His four-man crew could get one up in ninety days. But now, people want houses twice that size and they want it built in less time. I can’t promise that. The only thing I can promise them is the same level of craftsmanship this company has always provided.” A promise that seemed to carry less weight the moment his brother retired.
Henry sighed and leaned against the counter next to Edith, their arms grazing. “So lately I’ve been stuck taking on the projects we can manage on a shorter deadline, and well...”
“You’re bored.”
“So, so incredibly bored,” he said, slumping sideways until it looked like his elbow on the counter was all that held him up from the pressure of boredom trying to flatten him into the ground.
Edith laughed over his theatrics the way he hoped she would. “So is that why you’re helping me then? Because you’re bored out of your mind and have nothing better to do?”
“Oh no. I have a far better reason for why I’m helping you.” Henry angled in front of her, pinning her back against the counter.
“Oh?” Edith asked, chewing her lip, clearly in a failed attempt not to smile. “What could that possibly be?”
He palmed the counter on each side of her, his thumbs grazing her shirt at her waist, as he lowered his face close to hers, close enough to smell the scent of coconut in her hair from her shampoo. Close enough to see the tiny golden flecks in her brown eyes before he dropped his lips next to her ear. “Because I like the way you say thank you,” he whispered.
She playfully punched him in the stomach and Henry groaned. Right before he left the kitchen laughing, about as far away from bored as a man could be.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A distant ringing sound woke Edith the next morning. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and realize it must be the landline in the kitchen. She stretched with a yawn. Well, whoever it was could leave a message.
Since she’d had the last few days off from work, her sleep schedule had gotten all out of whack. She padded down the creaky wooden stairs and into the kitchen for some coffee. An empty cereal bowl sat in the sink. Looked like Henry had already eaten breakfast and disappeared for the morning.
The phone started ringing again. Oh, for goodness’ sake. Edith yanked the phone off the wall cradle just to make it stop ringing. “Hello?” her voice croaked.
“Oh. Um, hi,” a female voice said and then hesitated.“I may have called the wrong number. I’m trying to reach my uncle Henry.”
“This is the right number.” Edith tried to clear the morning frog out of her voice. “You aren’t Kat by any chance, are you?”
“Yes. Wait. Are you Edith?”
“That’s me.” Edith stretched her arm out, trying to reach a glass from the cupboard so she could drink some water and hopefully not sound like the bass singer from a barbershop quartet.
“Oh, wow! How are you and Henry getting along? Any big breakups in front of the neighbors?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m so sorry about the last-minute changes with my house, by the way. That’s actually why I’m calling. My landlord said the mold is just about taken care of.Finally.You should be able to move in soon. I meant to call the other day, but with the time zone difference, I could never find a good time. So is Henry there? I just want to say hi if he’s not too busy. I know he’s got his therapy around this time.”
“Yeah, sorry. He’s not here.”
