Page 14 of The Pink House

“I’ll walk you out.” Setting the bags on a side table, he cast his mother a warning glance. “Don’t touch those sacks. I’ll be right back to put them away.”

“You can be so bossy.” Affection wove like a pretty ribbon through Lisa’s words.

“I take after my mother.” Charlie shot his mom a wink, then pushed the door open for Hannah and stepped back.

Hannah expected him to let the door shut and return to the groceries. Instead, he followed her off the porch.

Since the windows were open, he waited until they were a distance from the house to speak. “Thanks for coming over. Since we moved, she doesn’t get many visitors.”

“I like your mother,” Hannah said simply. “I always have.”

“She’s always liked you.”

“I asked her about the pink house,” she blurted. “She’s never seen or heard of it.”

“She doesn’t get out much—”

“That’s what she said.” Hannah blew out an exasperated breath. “I tried to find it again, but couldn’t.”

“I know the feeling.”

Hannah arched a brow. “You’ve been searching for pink houses?”

He laughed. “No, but I know how it feels to be looking for something, to be so close to finding it, but have it just out of reach.”

An odd comment, but fearing a question might launch some heavy-duty discussion, Hannah kept her response vague. “It’s nice that you can work from home.”

At his questioning look, she added, “So that you can be there for your mother.”

“She’s a good person who’s stayed strong despite some tough breaks. I want to do whatever I can to make her life easier.” He chuckled. “I never thought I’d be living with my mother when I was thirty, but regardless of what people think or say, the current arrangement works well for both of us.”

Hannah recalled her first thoughts when she’d heard Charlie lived with his mother. Shame flooded her.

“It can be difficult when people make assumptions, when they judge.” She paused to steady her voice. “I’m trying to do better at that.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “Sounds as if you might have been on the receiving end of some of that judgment.”

“The minister at Brian’s funeral asked my dad if we’d been having marital troubles before Brian died, because I didn’t seem to be grieving enough.” Hannah gave a humorless chuckle. “He didn’t seem to realize that it was taking all my self-control to hold it together so everything could get done.”

“Jerk.” Charlie spat the word. “He had no right saying something like that.”

“No, he didn’t. Just like those who judge your arrangement with your mother have no right.”

He nodded. Grinned. “I knew there was a tie-in somewhere. I just wasn’t seeing it.”

“It’s a talent of mine.” She kept her tone lighthearted. “Finding the strangest connections and confusing the heck out of whoever I’m speaking with.”

“Hannah, I—”

Placing a hand on his forearm, she stilled whatever he’d been about to say. His warm skin, bronzed from the sun, had heat surging up her arm. “You’ve got groceries to put away.” She smiled. “I have cleaning to do.”

“We’re having a neighborhood clambake at our place Friday night. You should stop over.”

Hannah pulled her brows together. “I got the feeling from your mother that she wasn’t that well acquainted with the neighbors.”

He grinned. “Why do you think we’re hosting a clambake?”

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