Page 16 of When Cardinals Appear

“Wedding china certainly seems to be a thing of the past,” I agreed. We’d used it only for holidays and special occasions. “You don’t think Dad would want it?”

Steven snorted. “What would Dad use it for? He barely even uses real dishes these days, preferring the wonders of paper plates.”

I didn’t respond. Guilt needled my stomach. I hadn’t seen my father since arriving back in town. At least I had the excuse of not having transportation, and truth be told, I’d expected him to come by the house. Steven hadn’t mentioned whether Dad would be by that day. My father had been surprisingly helpful for the last few months of Mom’s life, and they had parted on good terms. So I thought he would want to pitch in with cleaning up the house. Still, the last awful conversation I had had with him echoed in my mind whenever I thought about seeing him again, and I didn’t regret his absence. Seeing him again was bound to be awkward, but I couldn’t put it off forever. He was the only parent I had left.

“Maybe you should take it,” Steven said, interrupting my thoughts. “California is full of famous people. Who knows? Perhaps one day, you’ll have Brad Pitt over for dinner, and you wouldn’t want him eating off some run-of-the-mill dish set.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if it’s good enough for him,” I replied, matching his teasing tone. “What about the pots and pans?”

Steven stood and wandered over to the pans hanging from the ceiling. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized their quality. I understood why. Mom had loved to cook and continued using the pans well beyond their natural life.

“Honestly, I think these should probably be tossed,” Steven finally said after he completed his examination.

I forced myself to nod, though it hurt my heart to do so. While I couldn’t hold on to everything of Mom’s, somehow, throwing away items she had lovingly touched every day felt wrong. It was as if, little by little, the small remaining pieces of my mother were being chipped away until all that remained were intangible memories.

“We can try to donate them, of course,” he hurried on, and I worked to keep my emotions in check.

“It can’t hurt to try.”

That decided, we finished our coffee and went through each room of the house. There were many things I had set aside for Steven or charity that he seemed to think were too worn. Towels that had begun to sport small holes from overuse, sheets that had faded to pale remembrances of their former brightly colored selves. I couldn’t help seeing it all as some twisted, painful metaphor for how my once vibrant and energetic mother had slowly faded away.

The morning passed quickly as we took stock of everything. I had a clipboard to keep track of it all. Once we were finished sorting, we packed up the items bound for donation and loaded them into Steven’s pickup. By the time we had dropped everything off at the church, it was lunchtime, and Steven offered to stop by Bea’s Diner. I readily agreed. All that work had made me hungry.

We entered the diner, and as I scanned the room for an empty booth, my eyes met Nate’s dark-brown ones, and my heart skipped a beat. I glanced away, searching in vain for somewhere else to sit, but the lunch rush was in full swing, and the only available seats were at the breakfast bar. Unfortunately, Steven had seen Nate as well and was already making his way over to his table. I recognized a couple of guys from the shop and noted, without enthusiasm, their table had two empty seats.

“Nate!” Steven called out in greeting. “How’s it going?”

“Good. It’s going good,” Nate replied. He nodded at the vacant chairs. “Would you two like to join us?”

Steven took the seat across from Nate, which left me the seat next to him. I shot a glare at my brother, but it wasn’t fair to assume Steven was seating us together on purpose. I knew him well enough to know how oblivious he could be in such situations. As a matter of fact, it had taken him months to notice Rose was interested in him and even longer before he worked up the courage to ask her out.

“How’s the house preparation going?” Nate directed his question to Steven.

“Pretty well, actually,” Steven replied with a glance at me. “I think we’re making good progress.” He turned to the other men. “Did you close the shop for lunch?”

“Nah, taking a break,” Jeff said. “Nate’s buying as a thank-you for agreeing to help with your mom’s house.”

“Uh, about that.” Steven grimaced. “Lanie is looking into movers.”

“Why?” Jeff stared at me. “We not good enough for you?”

Warmth crept up my neck. Gee, thanks for throwing me under the bus, Steven. “It’s not that, but as executor of the estate, I just want to make sure I handle things correctly.” I swallowed as I snuck a glance at Nate, wondering if he bought my half-truth. The frown on his face suggested he didn’t.

“Why would us helping out not be the correct way to handle things?” Nate asked, a touch of anger in his tone.

I thought fast. Why, indeed? I couldn’t very well tell him that he was the main reason behind the change in plans and that avoiding him was my new life goal.

“She’s probably afraid old Sam here will drop some precious breakable,” Jeff joked, slapping Sam on the back.

“You’re the one who has butterfingers,” Sam retorted. “Wasn’t it you who kept dropping a wrench yesterday?”

I forced myself to laugh along with the rest of the group, relieved the other guys hadn’t taken it personally. But Nate’s eyes never left my face, and I knew he wasn’t buying it.

“Well, if you change your mind, let us know,” Nate said.

I shifted in my seat. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Truthfully, I did appreciate their willingness to pitch in. Knowing I wasn’t doing everything alone kept me from feeling overwhelmed. But considering how awkward Nate and I were around each other, I didn’t want to put us through that again. And I would consider us lucky if we survived lunch without it morphing into an uncomfortable situation.

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