Page 23 of The Pink House

He felt the punch.

The intensity of his reaction took him by surprise. He’d had limited contact with her when she’d first become engaged to Brian and then married him. Back then, he hadn’t given her more than a passing thought.

She’d been friendly, but reserved. A couple of times, he’d caught her looking from him to Brian as if trying to figure out how they were friends.

She seemed different now. Maybe it was maturity. She and Brian had been so young when they married. Or maybe he had changed. Charlie decided the why didn’t really matter.

The fact that they could enjoy each other’s company made being neighbors a thousand times easier.

“You look ready to face the day.” He turned off the nozzle on the hose before shifting toward her.

“I’ve already faced it.” The easy smile remained on her face, and he noticed the strain that had bracketed her eyes when she’d first moved in was gone. “I grabbed a latte with Mackenna, then we got our toes done.”

She extended her sandaled foot, and he saw a flash of bright red.

“Looks good.”

“I’m happy with how they turned out.” She gestured to the rosebush he’d been watering. “I remember the owner of the Burger Shack, where I worked in high school, gave me a potted rosebush for my birthday. My dad told me they took too much time and effort and wouldn’t let me plant it.”

“What did you do?”

“I kept it going in my room for the longest time.” She lifted a shoulder, let it drop. “I don’t remember exactly what led to its demise.”

“Roses take work. They’re prone to powdery mildew, rust and black spot. But those issues are easily managed if you’re diligent. Besides, my mom loves them.” Enough about his mother, Charlie thought. Sometimes it felt like she was the only thing he and Hannah ever discussed. “What else is on your agenda for today?”

She inclined her head. “Does one always need a plan?”

“Not really. At least not a detailed one.” Charlie set down the hose and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I usually have some idea what I want to do during the day. Like today.” He gestured to the plants. “I like to water early so the sun has time to dry off any excess moisture before the evening.”

Great, he thought. Now they were discussing roses.

“I didn’t realize that. Since my father wasn’t into flowering plants—”

“Too much work.” Charlie flashed a smile. “I get it.”

“They are lovely, though.” She reached down to finger a soft pink petal. “Well, despite what I just said about not always needing a plan, I have one, of sorts. I’m making a list of everything I want to change in the house. You know, to make it feel like mine.”

Charlie nodded. He’d had a feeling that she would want to make changes. While Hannah’s father had kept the home clean and maintained, he hadn’t been one for doing much more than that. “What’s first?”

“I thought I’d start with the floors and walls.” She laid out her plan for the main level.

He listened and offered a nod every now and then, most often accompanied by an encouraging murmur. He liked the way her eyes sparkled as she spoke of paint samples and window treatments.

“Which leads me to why I came over.” She expelled a breath. “I’ve been gone so long I don’t know who I should contact about refinishing floors or painting. I thought perhaps your mother might have a few suggestions. I would have called, but I don’t have her number.”

“You could have just called me.”

“I, ah, I tossed out that box without writing down your number.”

“I can give you both of ours again. That way, you have them, not only for stuff like this, but for emergencies.”

This time, she entered both numbers into her phone. He didn’t ask for hers, so she just gave it to him.

“Don’t feel you need to call or text before you pop by every time,” he told her. “Just come over. My mom and I both like company.”

“I know you both work, and I wouldn’t want to—”

“I’d say 99% of what we do can be set aside at any given time.”

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