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“Do you want the berry or lemon scent?”
“I don’t care,” I growled, impatient now.
“You’re the one that asked for my help, you know.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just in a bit of a rush.”
“Nail emergency?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
Fortunately, she rang me up quickly and I was back home in less than thirty minutes. But when I checked on the progress, the spray paint still looked quite dry. So, I brushed on a bit more oil and started preparing beef wellington, distracting myself from the time.
13
Grace
Sometimes, sitting next to my mom, snuggled up alongside her on the couch, I felt like I was ten again. The movie, The Notebook, played on the TV. It was one of her favorite movies, and this scene in the rain always gave me the chills. So, I stood to grab a drink, not wanting to see anything remotely romantic right now. I was so confused about Luke. One minute I hated him, the next he was sweet and reminded me of the person he once was, then bam! Jared appeared and I was Meany Sweeney again.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Shh. This is the best part,” she said, always the hopeless romantic. I didn’t understand how she continued to be, even after my father left. I didn’t even remember what he looked like since he just up and left soon after I was born. So, forgive me if I don’t believe in happily ever after.
“All right, all right,” I said, walking toward the kitchen.
As usual, my laptop sat open on the counter and I clicked the mouse to refresh my email. No new messages. After returning from the cabin, I worked non-stop to catch up on the lost time, and fortunately, James kicked himself into high gear with me. Tomorrow was Friday, and if I worked hard, I would get it all done by the end of the day.
A knock at the door caught me by surprise. It was 8:30 p.m. on a weeknight. Lorna had left hours ago. Omar? Sometimes he called me to chat, but he never showed up unannounced at my door.
“Was that the door, sweetheart?” my mother asked.
“Yeah,” I said, cautiously.
“Well, don’t answer it, in case it’s an intruder.”
“It’s not an intruder, Mom,” I called back, but would check the peephole, anyway.
“Who is it?” I called, walking toward the door. I knew whomever it was could hear me as the walls and doors in this building were so thin.
“It’s me,” said a voice from the other side.
Luke?What’s he doing here?
“I know it’s late. But can we talk?”
“Who is it, Grace?” My mom called out.
“It’s just someone from work, Mom. I’ll take the conversation outside.”
“Don’t be silly. Whomever it is can come in.”
“It’s better that they don’t,” I muttered to myself, unlocking the door.
When I opened it, Luke stood in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. His light brown hair looked tousled and a five o’clock shadow darkened his face. He looked fantastic.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, then sniffed. “And what is that awful smell?” I put a hand over my nose to cover some of the worst of it.
He looked down at a large package next to the door. It was wrapped in brown paper, but there was no label on the packaging to indicate what was inside.
