“Very good, dear,” Mamaw exclaimed. “You should take it out every day and just drive around the neighborhood until you get the hang of it.” She paused. “Before you venture into traffic.” Mamaw climbed down from the car.
“Thanks, Mamaw,” Harper called out. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Mamaw’s smile was wobbly. She reached up to smooth her hair. “Yes, dear. I know.”
Harper let her hands slide along the steering wheel with pride.
“New ride?”
Harper startled and put her hand to her chest. She swung her head to see Taylor bent low, looking in her driver’s window, his face inches from her own.
“Didn’t mean to creep up on you.”
“I was just lost in my thoughts.” She smiled. “I just bought it. What do you think?”
His gaze scanned the tan interior. “It’s right pretty. Looks new but I’m guessing it’s a ’95, with those square headlights. I like the looks of those better, and it has a sweet spring leaf for a bouncier ride.”
“But it’s manual transmission.”
“That’s good.”
“Not if you don’t know how to drive manual. Mamaw just gave me my first lesson.”
His eyes crinkled up as he tried not to laugh. “Is that why your grandmother was running like the cavalry up the stairs?”
“No doubt heading for her rum.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. Before you know it, shifting gears will be like water off a duck’s back.” He walked around the Jeep, appraising it.
Harper grabbed her purse and climbed out of the Jeep. Her knees still felt weak from her lesson with the clutch.
“Say,” he said, returning to her, his eyes narrowed in mock suspicion, “is this the Jeep that was parked over on Middle Street?”
“The same.”
A look of chagrin crossed his face as he shook his head remorsefully. “I thought I recognized this cream puff. I looked at it the other day when I drove by. I was thinking of buying it for my little brother. He’s turning fifteen and this would be a sweet ride for a high school boy.”
“Well, you might still have your chance at the end of summer.”
“You’re selling it? So soon?”
“I won’t need a car in New York.”
Maybe it was her imagination, or the glare of the setting sun in his eyes, but he blinked hard and she thought he looked disappointed.
“When you planning on heading back?”
“At the end of summer sometime.”
He shifted his weight, and for a moment neither spoke. A crow cawed loudly from the neighbor’s tree.
“I got the cabinets done today,” he said, shifting to a businesslike tone, looking toward the house.
She got the sense he wanted to look anywhere but at her.
“Next I’ll start on the walls. I should be about finished tomorrow. You ladies will have your kitchen back in no time.” “I thought it would take a little longer.”
“Nope. I got the trim done today. The walls go fast. I’ll put the knobs and pulls on last. Best let the paint dry for twenty-four hours.”
“You’re doing a wonderful job. You know, I’ve been meaning to ask. You said your father does some electrical work. Can he hang a light fixture?”
“He can. So can I.”
She held back her smile. “Oh, good. I bought a new one. I have to go pick it up, but I can have it for you by tomorrow. Do you have time to hang it?”
He rubbed his jaw in thought. “If you’re doing that, the ceiling will need to be patched. Then painted. It’ll be extra, but not too bad. And it’ll take another day.”
Harper dismissed her inner voice telling her not to spend the money. After all, she had just promised the next installment from her trust fund to Mrs. Randolph and the new Jeep. But she wanted to do the job right for Mamaw. And . . . it meant another day with Taylor.
“Let’s do it.”
He looked at her and seemed to relax. “All right, then.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, then he lowered his head to kiss her. The moment she felt his lips, her blood raced and she leaned into him, slipping her hand around his neck. He made a soft sound in his throat and brought his arms around her, pressing her against him.
He released her with a reluctant smile, then tapped the roof of the car twice. “See you Monday.” He turned and walked to his truck. Whistling.
Dora was discouraged.
She was sitting outside a house in Mt. Pleasant beside Devlin in his truck. Devlin had accompanied her as she toured three potential houses to rent. This was the last of a week’s effort in rain and shine and not one could she see herself bringing Nate to live in. They were either in deplorable condition, in a sketchy neighborhood, or something was simply weirdly off, such as this one’s being smack-dab next to a power line.
“I don’t think I’m going to find a decent house that I can afford to rent. Not even a small one. I guess it’s time to chuck hopes for a house. The only option in my price range seems to be to rent an apartment.”
“Will that no-count husband of yours give you any more for rent?”
She shook her head. “He says he doesn’t have it. Not with all the work going on at the house. And still no offers.”
Devlin grunted and tightened his hand on the wheel but didn’t reply.
“I’ve got some good news, though. I think I may have got the job at the dress shop!” she exclaimed, interjecting a note of cheer.
“That’s real good, honey.” Devlin reached out to squeeze her hand. “If you have a minute to spare, can I stop at that cottage on Sullivan’s? I have to check a few things before it goes on the market.”
“Of course. You gave up your afternoon for me.” When he fired up the engine and drove off, Dora asked the question niggling at her. “The cottage is finished?” She had helped Devlin refurbish the quaint little structure over the summer. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to put it on the market?”
“I just did. Thought you’d like to see it now that it’s all spruced up. Seems only fair, seeing as how you saw it at its worst.”
“Never at its worst,” she said with a twinge of sadness. “That house always had its sweet side.”