Page 22 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Steven pulled the blind down. “Alicia.”

It rolled back up, more gently this time. “No. I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think it’s weird that Kreed knew his house’s name within the first month of living there? And Lucky knew Emma Joy before he even started renovating her to be a shelter? And we’ve lived here our whole lives and have no idea what ours is called.”

“Dad knew.”

“You think?”

“Sure.” He patted the windowsill, then turned to Stephanie. “I thought you were late for an appointment or something.”

“Bob texted back. He has to drive right past the store, so he’s going to pick me up.”

“Oh, Bob. Bob, Bob, Bob.”

“What?”

“You know he’s going to keep doing nice things like this because he figures if he just keeps on keeping on, eventually you’ll let him take you on a date.”

“First off, he’s, like, eighty, so no.”

“He’s probably not even fifty, but go on.”

“And second, he and I have had a long talk about my orientation, so he knows I don’t do romance. He’s just being nice because he’s nice. And we’re friends.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.”

A horn honked at the front of the house, and she jumped straight. “That’s him. Gotta go.”

“Have fun!”

“I will.”

The cheerful certainty in her voice and fast thudding of her feet down the stairs made him wonder if maybe Bob wasn’t onto something with his persistence. If his friendship made her this happy, Steven would take it. She deserved some good things for herself now that Jake was doing well on his own. There didn’t need to be two of them moping around this old house.

A soft, warm breeze drifted in through the window he hadn’t opened, but that was, in fact, now open. It was nice for a late June evening, and he smiled. Maybe the porch. He could probably do the porch with a good book and a cup of tea.

Jake did bring over boxes when asked, though they came with a fair amount of attitude.

“It’s just across the street,” he pointed out. “Even I can cross the street by myself.”

“It’s not about crossing the street, Jake. How many boxes did you bring?”

“Four.”

“Thanks. That should be enough.”

He grunted, crossed his arms, and leaned in the doorway, watching as Steven piled more of Becca’s belongings on top of the dresser. “You can’t stay in the house all the time.”

“I don’t. I have coffee on the porch almost every morning.” He thought about the new guests across the street and found a smile sneaking up on him. “And some afternoons.”

“Still under the roof.”

“So?”

“So. It’s not good for you.”