Page 68
“I guarantee it.”
Milo met Wilda in the parlor a few minutes later, and they got to work applying the final coat of white paint to the fireplace mantle. Intricately carved wood framed the brick opening and supported the mantle, making the painting tedious. They each took a side and worked their way up from the floor. The mantle already had its final coat of paint, so once they reached it, they were done.
Milo got to the top of his side first, then stood and took a few steps back. “I know this wasn’t a race, but…”
Wilda laughed. “You are very immature sometimes, Milo.”
“I guess that comes from hanging out with five-year-olds for the last few years.”
She finished and got to her feet, then moved back next to him. “We do good work.”
He turned to her then smiled. “You, ah…” He pointed at her cheek. “Have a little paint there.”
“Oh my gosh.” She swiped at it and made it worse.
“Hold on.” He pulled a wipe from a package and held it up. “May I?”
“Please. I imagine you’re pretty good at wiping faces due to your job, as well.”
“I’m an expert.” He stepped closer and dabbed at the paint. When their eyes met, he stopped dabbing. “Um… got it.” She didn’t move, and he held her gaze before leaning in to kiss her. She gasped before he made contact and stepped back.
He also moved back. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
She turned toward the fireplace. “I’m going to check on Caleb.”
“Good idea.”
She headed for the door.
“Wilda?”
She held up a hand. “It’s okay. I just…” She opened the door. “Need to…Caleb.”
Chapter eighteen
“This is nice and cozy.”
Milo tugged at a stubborn weed. With a grunt and a final pull, the weed gave up and came out of the ground. He tossed it onto the pile he’d created over the last hour, then patted the damp earth to fill in the hole he’d made. He grabbed a handful of soil and smelled it. Even after being unattended for all these years, it was rich and loamy.
He sat back on his heels. He’d cleared a six-foot section of the flowerbed in front of the porch. It ran the length of the house, interrupted briefly by the steps. Six feet was a fraction of what needed clearing. Judging by how firmly rooted the weeds were, it had been a while since the bed had been planted with flowers.
The front door opened, and Wilda came down the steps with Caleb. “We’re ready to go whenever you are.”
He stood and removed his gloves. “Go?”
“To Rocco’s?”
“Oh, right.”
“Your brother is expecting us, right?”
“Yes. Marti, his wife, will be bringing the boys by at…” He glanced at his watch. “Oh, damn. Yeah, we should go.” He looked down at his dirty jeans. “I just need to change.”
“We’ll wait out here.”
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded and walked past her to the porch steps. “I won’t be long.” He went inside, then jogged up the stairs. “An awkward afternoon at Rocco’s. Fun times.”
He washed his hands, ran his fingers through his hair, and changed his clothes. When he went back outside, Caleb was chasing a butterfly around a cedar. Wilda gave Milo a small smile.
