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A Family for Easter Page 3


  “No. Mrs. Farmingham is looking to rent the carriage house, out back. I haven’t seen it, but I’m sure it’s nothing fancy.”

  Diego shrugged, then poked his sister in the side. “C’mon, let’s go! There’s Ryan!”

  “Wait.” Eduardo turned in his seat to face both of his kids. “We need to remember some things.”

  “I know. Good manners.” Diego had his hand on the door handle.

  “Like what?” he prompted.

  “Wipe your feet, and say please and thank you, and be quiet inside the house.” Sofia recited the list with an eye roll that previewed the teen she would soon become.

  “Good.” From the glove box, Eduardo pulled out two bags of mazapán, a round and chewy Mexican candy one of his aunts always sent them in quantity. He handed a bag to each child. “These are to share with everyone after we check with Mrs. Farmingham. She and I are going to be talking about work before we check out the carriage house, so I need you to be self-reliant. You can interrupt us if it’s an emergency.”

  “Like fire or blood,” Diego said, and Eduardo let out a short laugh. He should never have said that to the kids, but one night when he’d been working on the books for his landscaping business, he’d ordered his whining kids to watch TV and only disturb him under those circumstances.

  Of course, that’s what they remembered. “Right,” he said, “or anything else that you think is important. You both have good judgment.”

  “Can we go now?” Sofia asked, and Eduardo looked at the house and saw that Fiona had come out onto the porch, holding Poppy on her hip. The other three kids were already on the stairs.

  “Go ahead,” he said, taking his time about gathering up his tablet and a couple of plant catalogs.

  He climbed out slowly. Fiona stood listening to his kids, and he saw her smile and nod. Sofia and Diego distributed pieces of candy all around and gave the rest of the bags to Fiona; then all of the kids took off for the big side yard.

  Fiona was wearing jeans and a puffy kind of blouse, light green, that made her red hair glow. Behind her, the old two-story Victorian mansion rose in splendor.

  It was exactly the kind of house he’d have bought himself if he’d had the money. The yellow paint with green trim was nice, but best of all were the wraparound porches, one on the first floor and one on the second. A couple of redbrick chimneys indicated fireplaces inside and a turret at the top, with windows all around, would make a great playroom for kids.

  Or a relaxing spot for parents to kick back and watch the sunset.

  He straightened his shoulders and glanced down at his Delgado Landscaping shirt. He’d debated wearing just ordinary casual clothes, but that would have misrepresented the relationship.

  He was aiming to rent a place from her and maybe to do some work for her, too. She was a potential client and landlord, not a friend.

  He walked briskly up the sidewalk and held out a hand to shake hers. “Hey, Fiona. Thanks for letting us see the carriage house. And for considering me for a landscaping job, too.”

  She lifted an eyebrow and shook his hand. “Of course.”

  Heat rose in the back of his neck. Why did he feel so awkward with her?

  And her hand—which, he noticed, he was still grasping in his, and he let it go like a hot potato—wasn’t the well-manicured, callus-free one he’d expected, but strong, with plain short-cut nails.

  Long delicate fingers, too.

  “So,” he began.

  “Would you like something—” she started at the same time.

  They both laughed awkwardly. “Ladies first,” he said and then wondered if that had sounded stupid.

  “Um, okay.” Her cheeks went pink. “What was I... Oh, yeah. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, soda, iced tea?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks. And thanks for letting the kids come along. It’s a big help.”

  “Sure. They’re all having fun.” She gestured across the yard.

  The kids were running toward a play set situated near a tidy little outbuilding that must be the carriage house. Poppy couldn’t keep up and called out to the others. Sofia turned, went back to the little girl and picked her up.

  His heart did a funny little twist at the sight of his daughter holding a toddler. Sofia would love to have a little sister. He and Elizabeth had hoped for that, planned for it.

  Plans don’t always work out. “Does somebody live in your carriage house now?” he asked to distract himself.

  “No. I was using it for my dog-walking business, but now...” She shrugged, looking away. “I just want to rent it out.”

  “You’re not thinking of trying another business?”

  “Well...I’d like to. But...no. Not for now.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Clear enough. None of my business. “Why don’t you show me what you’re thinking of doing in the yard first, since that’ll take more time. I can look at the carriage house after.”

  “Okay, sure.” She wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans. As she headed to the side yard, he fell into step beside her. It was nice that she was so tall. Easy for them to walk in step.

  Unbidden, a memory of Elizabeth, scolding him for his tendency to outpace her, came to mind.

  Fiona was talking, and he forced himself to focus. “So over here,” she said, “I’m thinking about digging up this whole section and planting vegetables. Corn and tomatoes and squash and peppers. I’d like to maybe slope it south? To catch the sun?”

  “That makes sense.” He looked around the yard, measured it in his mind, pictured some ways it could look. “You thinking about raised beds?”

  “Yes, if it’s possible.”

  He nodded. “I think we could put in three small terraces. It would look good.” He bent down, pinched up some soil and squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger. Thick and hard; too much clay. “You’re going to need some soil amendments. In future years you can compost, if you’re into that, but you’ll probably have to shell out for commercial stuff this year. Peat moss, humus, maybe some mushroom compost. It’ll cost you.”

  “That’s not a problem,” she said, and then a blush rose up her cheeks again and she looked away. “I...inherited some money. Nothing I earned myself.”

  He’d known she was wealthy. A lot of his customers were. As a professional, he could look at it as a good thing. “Hey, it’s great you can afford to do that. It’ll get your garden off to a strong start. Mind if I take some measurements?”

  “That would be great. And here’s the key to the carriage house. Go ahead and look around when you’re done.”

  She checked on the kids while he measured and sketched. By the time they’d gotten around to the other side of the yard and discussed fruit trees and blueberry bushes, they were more at ease with each other. And when the kids came running up, thirsty, he helped her get drinks for everyone and accepted one himself.

  While Fiona bandaged Ryan’s scraped knee and helped Poppy change into a clean outfit—some kind of a mud puddle accident—Eduardo went out onto the porch and tried to get started on an estimate.

  He found himself thinking about Fiona instead.

  Specifically, about her past.

  It was common knowledge in town that Fiona had been married to a wealthy man. And that her husband had turned out to have a double life, but Eduardo didn’t know any of the details. Now he found himself curious and sympathetic. How did you explain something like that to your kids? How did you deal with it yourself?

  And why on earth would anyone who was married to Fiona have felt the need for someone else?

  Eduardo did another walk-around, checked a couple of measurements and looked up costs online. By the time he’d finished, the afternoon sun was sinking toward the horizon.

  Dinnertime. He needed to take a look at the carriage house, collect his kids and go back
to the motel where they were staying. He’d finalize the estimate tonight and email it all to her, and mull over renting the carriage house if it seemed suitable. It would mean a late night, but the job would be great for his bottom line, and the fact that he could work on it basically from home, if the rental worked out, meant that he could get to it quickly.

  Sofia was running across the lawn and he called to her. “Get your brother,” he said. “I’m going to take a quick look at the carriage house and then go inside to talk to Mrs. Farmingham. After that, we’ll head home.”

  “But we’re having fun!”

  “Sofia...” He lifted an eyebrow. She was just starting to question his authority, and he understood it was a stage. But she needed rules and boundaries, and she needed to obey.

  “I...” She seemed to read the firmness in his eyes. “Okay.” She gave him a little hug and then ran toward her brother.

  Eduardo looked after her, bemused. How long would she keep giving him spontaneous hugs?

  He walked through the carriage house. It was small but pretty and sturdy, well built. He checked the smoke alarms and found them all working. Three small bedrooms, a kitchen with space for a table, a sunny front room with hardwood floors.

  If Fiona was charging a reasonable price, this place would be perfect.

  He went to the front door of Fiona’s house, tapped on it, and when there was no answer, he walked inside. “Fiona?”

  He heard her voice from the kitchen, so he headed in that direction. “Hey, I’m about done—” He broke off, realizing she was on a video call.

  The image on her big laptop computer screen was blurry, an older woman, but the voice was perfectly clear. “You really need to watch what you’re eating, honey.”

  “Mom, we’ve talked about this.” Fiona’s voice was strained.

  “But you’ve gained so much weight, and at your height...”

  “Heard and understood, Mother. I’ll get the kids.” Fiona turned away, stepped out of the computer camera’s range and buried her head in her hands. Her shoulders started to shake.

  Eduardo backed away—nobody wanted a witness to their breakdown—but despite the fact that the old house had been beautifully renovated, you couldn’t eliminate creaky floors. He felt the loose board beneath his feet at the same moment he heard a loud squeak.

  Fiona looked up and saw him, and her face contorted even more. “Get out,” she whispered through tears. “Just get out.”

  Chapter Three

  “He has to hate me.” Fiona pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and picked up the pace, glancing over at her friends Susan and Daisy. She’d tried to back out of their planned morning walk, but they must have heard something in her voice, because they’d come over anyway and insisted that she join them. And they were right: it did feel good to get out and move in the fresh spring air.

  “I doubt he hates you,” Daisy said. “Okay, it sounds like it was awkward, and maybe you hurt his feelings, but Eduardo’s an understanding guy.” She looked slyly over at Fiona. “Handsome, too.”

  “Daisy!” Susan fake-punched her. “Remember what Pastor Ricky said last week. We need to focus on what’s inside people, not what’s outside. Although,” she said, her voice thoughtful, “Eduardo is one of the best-looking workers at Hinton Enterprises. Almost as handsome as the boss.”

  “Biased much?” Daisy teased. “Sam’s my brother, and I love him, but even I think judging a beauty contest between Eduardo and Sam would be a tough job.”

  “Would you guys stop?” Fiona dug in her pocket for a ponytail holder. “How Eduardo looks is the least of my worries. I kicked him out in a mean way after he’d come over to my house to make a landscaping estimate. I didn’t even show him the carriage house. I’m an idiot.” Her cheeks heated at the memory of looking up during her meltdown to see Eduardo’s concerned face, of blurting out something, anything, to make him go away.

  She’d regretted it only moments later, but by then he’d collected his kids and left. “I wasn’t just rude to him. I disappointed and confused his kids, too. They were expecting to look at the carriage house. I’m sure he’s decided to rent something else, now that he realizes what a loon I am.”

  “You’re not a loon,” Susan said. “You’re a human being with emotions.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Daisy added. “We all make mistakes.”

  “I guess.”

  Daisy squeezed her arm and Susan patted her back, and the tightness in Fiona’s chest relaxed just a little bit. A woman out weeding her garden called a greeting, and two mothers with babies in strollers waved from the other side of the street. In a fenced front yard, a toddler squatted to pet a puppy while his father talked on the phone.

  Life went on.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m the queen of saying the wrong thing, and most people forgive me for it,” Susan added. “I’m sure Eduardo will forgive you if you apologize nicely.”

  “I can’t apologize. I’m too embarrassed that he heard my mom calling me fat.” Fiona could barely squeak the words out in front of her friends. “I mean, it’s out there for everyone to see, but still...”

  “You’re not even close to fat!” Daisy sounded indignant.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Susan said. “When you came to town, everyone talked about how you looked like a model. I was totally jealous when Sam’s old mother-in-law tried to fix him up with you.”

  “I remember.” Fiona thought back to that Fourth of July picnic almost two years ago. “I was such a mess then. Reggie had died earlier that year, and then I found out about his second family. I’d just moved here, and the kids were really struggling.” She sighed. “But at least I was thin.”

  “Listen to yourself!” Susan scolded. “Would you trade where you are now for where you were back then, just to wear a smaller pants size? I mean, look at me.” She patted her rounded stomach. “I’ve got baby weight I need to lose, sure, but I wouldn’t trade it for the figure I used to have, no way.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t.” Daisy sounded just a little wistful. “And Sam wouldn’t, either. He claims Sam Junior is the perfect child, and you’re the perfect wife for producing him.”

  Susan snorted. “If he said I was perfect, he’s delusional.”

  They reached Rescue River’s small downtown and walked down Main Street. Early on a Monday morning, pedestrian traffic was light and most businesses were still closed. There was Mr. Love, though, sweeping the sidewalk in front of Love’s Hardware, whistling a quiet tune. At eightysomething, he had more energy than most twenty-year-olds.

  “Hey, Mr. Love,” Daisy called.

  The stooped dark-skinned man stopped sweeping and looked slightly to the left of them, leaning on his broom. “Who’s that now? Is that you, Daisy Hinton?”

  They came to a halt to chat with the man whose visual impairment didn’t stop him from doing anything and everything.

  “Me, and Susan, and Fiona Farmingham. Do you know Fiona, Mr. Love?”

  “Oh, we’ve met,” the old man said before Fiona could answer. “I’m blessed to get a morning greeting from the three prettiest ladies in Rescue River. Excepting my Minnie, of course.”

  Daisy arched an eyebrow at Fiona and Susan. “Are you two finally out in the open?” she asked Mr. Love.

  “Thinking about shopping for an engagement ring. At my age!” He shook his head, a big smile creasing his face. “God’s been smiling on me in my golden years.”

  “That’s wonderful news.” Daisy gave him a gentle hug while Susan and Fiona offered their congratulations.

  “Don’t rush into congratulating me. She hasn’t said yes.” Mr. Love put a hand on Daisy’s arm. “You listen to what I’m saying now. Life’s short. Too short for avoiding love due to fear.”

  Daisy’s cheeks went pink. “You’re not giving me advice on my love life, ar
e you?”

  “My name is Love, after all,” he said with a chuckle. “And at my age, I think I can claim a little wisdom. Now, you ladies get on. I know you’ve got more exercising to do on this fine day.”

  As they walked on through the downtown, the old man’s words echoed in Fiona’s mind. Was she avoiding love due to fear?

  Well...yeah. She was. But in her case, she had every reason to.

  “Fiona! Listen to me.” Susan glared at her.

  “Sorry, I was spacing out,” Fiona said. “What did I miss?”

  “I was saying that it’s important for those of us raising girls, especially, to help them grow up with a healthy body image.”

  “That’s true,” Fiona said, thinking of Susan’s stepdaughter, Mindy, as well as her own three. “I wouldn’t want to do to my girls what my mom does to me on a regular basis.”

  “Kids learn by example as much as by words,” Susan said. “I’ve learned that during ten years of teaching elementary school. If you put yourself down in front of them, or if you’re always on some crazy diet, they’ll notice.”

  “Exactly,” Daisy said. “Besides, some men like women who enjoy their food. Dion says—” She broke off, blushing.

  Susan cocked her head. “Is there something you want to tell us, about you and the police chief?” she asked Daisy.

  “No. Anyway, today isn’t about me.” Daisy turned away from Susan and looked at Fiona. “What are you going to do about Eduardo?”

  What was she going to do? She couldn’t let the discomfort between them fester—if for no other reason than that they’d see each other at kids’ events all the time. “I guess I could text him an apology.”

  “Text him? Really?” Daisy stepped in front of Fiona, making her stop. Susan came to her side, blocking Fiona’s way.

  “Call him?” Fiona asked weakly.

  “God didn’t give us a spirit of fear,” Daisy said.

  “And how about if you’re offering a gift at the altar, and you remember someone is mad at you?” Susan added.

  “Yes!” Daisy nodded vigorously. “The Bible doesn’t say text them or call them. It says go to them.”