coloring with pink. “I guess that’s pretty easy to figure out.”
As she pointed out some of the things that would be considered unusual for a newer house, Nick noticed that she relaxed. By the time they reached the stairs and she was showing him the hidden storage space under the staircase, he had made several mental notes about things he hadn’t been aware of.
“I’ve been in here before,” he told her.
She turned to look at him. “Really? When?”
Apparently she didn’t remember that he had told her the story when they were younger. Relieved, he looked over his shoulder, pretending to make sure no one was listening. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
She shook her head, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Well,” he said, lowering his voice to a more intimate level, “when I was about nine years old, Corey Jacobs and I walked out here from town one night and pried open a window.”
Her gasp ended with a smothered, girlish giggle. “Didn’t anybody catch you? I mean, somebody would have heard you, wouldn’t they?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Watkins were away. I knew they would be because they’d had their car tuned up for a long road trip.” He smiled, remembering how scared he and Corey had been that someone would drive by and see the light from their flashlights inside the house. “Of course, it was different than it is now. They had some pretty old-fashioned furnishings in here. And the floors creak more now than they did then. But that’s easy to fix.”
Becca leaned against the wall and sighed. “I like those old creaks. I remember when Mr. Watkins was still alive and the two of them would come into town. He was such a gentleman. But even then, she was a crotchety old thing. I never could understand how the two of them managed to stay married for so long. But I guess opposites attract.”
Nick nodded, seeing the couple in his mind as they had been in his childhood. “Bill Watkins was a fine man. My dad always said he had the patience of a saint.”
Becca laughed softly. “My mom used to say Vera Watkins had the tongue of a serpent.”
But her laugh quickly faded. Nick wished it back again, but quickly chided himself. Whether Becca Malone was happy or not didn’t change anything for him. But he couldn’t help hoping to see another smile. Before he could think of something to say, he heard the phone ring.
“Go on upstairs,” she told him. “If you’re quiet, you won’t wake the kids. They’re used to me coming and going during nap time.”
She disappeared into the kitchen to answer the phone, and he quickly pulled out a notebook from his back pocket that held his notes for the house. He was constantly thinking of things he wanted to do to with the place when the time came that he could. Seeing it up close again, he knew nothing could make him destroy it, not even the memories of sharing his dream with Becca.
There were a number of repairs that needed to be made. In several places, some of the decorative molding at the ceiling had been damaged and would need fixing or replacing. And Becca might like the creaky floors, but to Nick that meant there might be some warping. At least from what he could tell, nothing had caused them to slant from settling over the years. The foundation was obviously in very good shape.
He was curious about the heating and started for the kitchen to ask Becca if she would mind if he took a look at the furnace, but as he approached the doorway into the room, he could hear her side of the phone conversation.
“Yes, I know it’s due the first of the month—today, Mrs. Watkins,” she was saying. “And I know I’ll have to pay a penalty for being late…again…Yes, I know we don’t have much time left before we have to leave. I have your letter and the notice to vacate right here…. I hope to have the money to you by the end of next week, at the latest. Perhaps if you’d give me the name of the new owner, maybe I could…Yes, I understand…goodbye.”
Nick wasn’t sure whether to walk in as if he hadn’t heard a thing or whether to try to make it back to the stairs before she reappeared. He heard the sound of papers being shuffled and then a sniff. A sliver of guilt gnawed at him, but he didn’t get a chance to deal with it. Becca came out of the kitchen with her head down and ran into him.
His arms instinctively went around her to steady her when they collided. It was the wrong thing to do.
“I—I’m so sorry,” she blurted, attempting to take a step back, but unable to do so as he held her. “I have…I’ve had some bad news.”
Torn by a sudden urge to comfort her, but knowing it would only make matters worse, Nick released her. Stepping back, he did his best to ignore the glitter of tears in her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” he dared to ask.
“Yes. I mean, no.” She turned around, hiding her face. Her drooping shoulders lifted, and then squared as she took a deep breath. When she faced him again, there were no tears glistening in her eyes, and she wore a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Nick. It isn’t something I feel comfortable talking about right now. Suffice it to say that Mrs. Watkins is no longer my landlady. This place has just been sold.”
He swallowed. Hard. Here was his opportunity to tell her the truth. But he couldn’t. He’d freeze, walking back to town, and she’d have to be a saint not to toss him out the door, if he told her. Not to mention that he couldn’t add to her misery. Not right now.
Becca shook her head and walked into the living room, while Nick followed. “I never would have thought she would sell this house. I didn’t know she was even thinking about doing it. In fact, I thought she was happy I’d rented it—it stood empty for a long time after she moved into Katyville. And now she’s sold it to some corporation. I don’t know why. Maybe she needed the extra income. I still pay my rent to her, but she just told me that she forwards it on to the new owner. Or owners. I suspect they’ll tear it down.”
A tiny prick of guilt stabbed at him. Hadn’t he thought of doing just that? He opened his mouth to tell her that wouldn’t happen and instantly shut it. He couldn’t let on that he knew anything about this. Saying nothing would be best, until he was prepared to tell her the truth. Lying wasn’t something he did, as a rule. His parents had taught him that truth was always the best option, and the consequences for not telling it would be a lot worse than what the truth would get him. He knew he would have to deal with the consequences of this later. When the time was right—and it definitely wasn’t right at the moment—he would find a way to tell her.
“So what does that mean for you? And the kids?” he asked, hoping she had found another place to live by now.
Sinking to the sofa, she hung her head, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. “It means we have to leave. We have until the first Monday after the New Year to pack and find a new home.”
“A little over a month then.” An easy thing for him to say, since he’d been counting down the time when the house would be empty. “Where will you move?”
She shook her head, her lips set in a thin line.
“You don’t know?” he asked in disbelief.
She shook her head again.
He felt like the world’s biggest jerk. He didn’t need the extra money, but because he preferred that the sale remain anonymous until he was ready to make it known, his lawyer had suggested that the rent continue to be sent to Mrs. Watkins, who would then send it to his attorney for deposit. He sure hadn’t counted on the tenant being someone he knew, let alone Becca. In fact, he had been in such a rush to close the deal, and so busy making arrangements to move his very lucrative construction company to Katyville, he had left everything up to his attorney.
“I don’t mean to whine to you,” she said, her voice quivering. “But you did ask.” She sniffed again, and then looked up at him with a watery smile. “I truly am sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Right. He’d worry about it enough for the both of them.