Page 24 of Beach Cottage Kisses
If not for the awkwardness he’d create, the questions he’d have to answer, he’d back out of the dinner invite.
And he comforted himself with the reminder that nothing could happen between them with a realtor next door calling him at any minute.
He was just lonely without Leigh’s pudgy-legged run and boisterous laughter on the beach. Her four-year-old way of seeing straight through him and calling him on any inconsistency he might make.
Whether it was a missedexcuse meafter he burped. Or a look of sadness on his face.
Times of adjustment were hard.
For everyone.
Human beings were comfortable in their routines.
But with no change, there’d be no growth. And limits to their happiness.
None of which he wanted. For himself, or anyone else.
They’d all get through it together and be a bigger, happier family on the other side.
He’d managed to make the short walk without creating a scene but hadn’t said a word.
Iris stopped in the sand in front of the first step up to her porch. “You okay?” she asked. Studying him again.
Danger! Danger! He had a flash of an old sitcom his father used to watch when he was young, one that he’d introduced to his kids, about a family living in outer space. Their robot always called out the danger to the young boy, Will, if he remembered correctly.
“Fine,” he told Iris, smiling at the memory as he answered her. “It’s just…”
“Sage’s place,” she filled in when he might have made a critical miss-turn into something more. “Having strangers in it, soon to own it, is just…weird.”
With a roll of his eyes, he said, “You got that right,” and, taking a sip of warm beer, followed her and the girls up the three steps and into the house.
* * *
As hungry as Iris had been, she wasn’t feeling it all that much as she took her first bite.
They’d just sat down to dinner at the wooden kitchen table Iris had eaten on as a kid when Walt Wright called to let Scott know that he’d just sent over the offer. The couple, Liza and Burt, needed to get to the airport, and Walt was rushing to get them there.
Scott had read the offer as he’d consumed the other half of her baked potato and two bowls brimming with chef salad with barbecue sauce and ranch dressing mixed together.
How it could be that they’d been friends for three years and she’d never known he preferred the combined dressing she didn’t know.
Didn’t really like the fact.
It was just more of the way that he was changing, morphing into a guy other than the friend she’d known.
With their status quo gone, it was no wonder she’d been heading toward a bit of a relapse into the emotionally crippled young woman she’d once been.
He’d sent a text to Sage when he’d completed his read through, telling Iris that he was certain his sister would have him accept. Iris didn’t ask for details. He didn’t offer them.
And then he did. “They want to take possession next week. I’ll need to get the rest of Sage’s stuff moved out.”
“I’ll help,” Iris said, glad to have a part in things—and something concrete to do with herself—as she stood up to clear the table.
Scott typed on his phone. And by the time she came back for the salad dressings and plates of fixings on the table, he was grinning and said, “She appreciates the offer.” And then added, “I’m sure she’d rather have you packing boxes than me.”
She remembered a time he’d had to move stuff out of his spare bedroom to have the floor redone due to a bathroom plumbing fiasco. She and Sage had offered to help him pack, but he’d said he’d already taken care of it.
Turned out he’d thrown everything in suitcases and random boxes, without any kind of protective wrap. And hadn’t labeled anything,either. She knew that because he’d groused later about wasting an hour looking for something he’d needed.
