AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Hours later, she woke hungry. Sunlight filtered through the windows by the time she made it upstairs. The last thing she wanted to do was cook, but she reluctantly pulled out onions, peppers, and chicken, sliced them, and threw the mix into a frying pan to sizzle. She covered the pan and found a notepad.
After a walk around the main floor, she had a small list of improvements. Without going upstairs, she wrote on the list Demolish bedroom. It didn’t matter how Dean did it, as long as the room never looked the same. She couldn’t sell the house in good conscience unless renovations were completed.
She returned to the kitchen to see her dinner on the stove completely charred. She sighed and lifted the lid, letting out the smoky air. Her mother’s frequent burned dinners came into her mind. “Maybe it’s hereditary.”
A knock on the back door drew her attention, making her drop the pan. Once the clang subsided, she scooted to the door, opened it, and peered out.
Dean waited on the other side, a bag of takeout in one hand. She grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him inside. “Good timing.”
“Are you okay?”’ Dean coughed as he waved away some smoke. “Let’s open the door and air the room out.”
She laughed and looked around for a hidden camera. “How did you know I burned my dinner?”
He looked at her sideways. “Lucky guess.”
She gave his arm a playful slap, and they took a minute to clean up the kitchen before sitting down. She opened the bag and sighed. “Sub sandwiches from Friendly’s. Yum. I’ve been meaning to go there.”
As they dug into their sandwiches, Emilie told him about the progress at the studio. “I focused on going through a list of contacts and making calls. Then I went to the office supply store and picked up some basic office supplies and ink for the copy machine. Student enrollment will be the highest priority. By the way, can you put up some fliers at the docks? I doubt many people will see them, but I’m desperate.”
He reached over and squeezed her free hand for a brief second before dropping it back to his lap. “Sure. I’ll pick them up tomorrow when I pass through town.”
It had only been a day since they were together, but she’d missed him. She found herself thinking about him throughout the day and wanting to call him. Her goal was still to return to Boston the next fall, so where did that leave them? She could easily train a manager to run the place and still own it. Long distance could work. She slammed her sub down on the table. Why was she even thinking about dating him?
Dean took her hand again, this time holding on. “What are you thinking about so hard?”
A rush of adrenaline coursed through her hand and up her arm, and the words flew out in a flurry. “I’m fine. Just fine. I can drop the fliers off at your home. Or at work? Whichever’s best.”
He watched her silently. If she wasn’t careful, he’d figure everything out. She cleared her throat and pushed the list of improvements over to him.
“Here’s a list of things I want done on the house.” She left out the part about selling it. Staying an extra year didn’t mean she had to stay in the house.
Dean let go of her hand and took the list.
“Since you miraculously finished the basement and started the renovations on the main floor, there’s not much to do. We can keep mom’s pink fixtures the same. Who knows, someone might love those. The upstairs will take the most time. I want the whole thing redone. I don’t have much of an opinion except to start from scratch. And of course I’ll pay you the same rate I’ve been paying you for the repairs.”
He frowned and rubbed an eye with one hand and held the list in the other. “I had an army of men before. This might take all year when I’m working by myself.”
All year. “I can hire people, if that’ll help.”
Dean held a hand up to stop her. “No. I want to do it alone. It’s my busy season now, but when things slow down, I’ll have more time.”
She shrugged. A year is what she expected to put in at the studio. It couldn’t hurt to stay in the house for that long. “All right. Thanks for sticking with me so far.”
Dean put the list down. “You’re really going to leave?”
She nodded. “Yes, after my year is up. You know I can’t stay here with all these bad memories. Every time I walk around the corner I see flashes of memories of my mom shooting holes in the closet with her BB gun or her strangling invisible people at the dinner table at night. I want a fresh start.”
“You can live with me.” His words came out suddenly. “We can find another apartment or house. You can start over in Danvers.”
The city’s name soured on his tongue. “I’ve already made my decision, Dean. I want to go back to Boston. I want to be on the dance team again. I was happy there.”
Dean powered through the last bites of his sandwich before speaking again. “I’m glad you’re staying a year. It’s going to take all three hundred sixty-five days to convince you to stay.”
“Funny.”
The next few days followed a pattern: work till dusk, eat dinner with Dean, clean and organize the house while he hammered and pounded away upstairs, and then fall asleep in seconds. Emilie avoided the demolition at all costs, but always prepared snacks for him during breaks.
On the way home from work on Wednesday, Ava called her. Emilie remembered what Gail told her and answered with some hesitation. “Hey, Ava. What’s up?”
