of round trips. All in all, it took him practically the entire day.
He worked continuously, taking only one thirty-minute break to consume a fast-food lunch that was far from satisfying.
By four thirty, he was completely wiped out and decided to call it a day. But he didn’t want to just pack up and leave, the way he knew some people in his line of work would. He wanted Tiffany to be made aware that he was leaving for the day. Otherwise, she might wind up thinking she had to wait around for him to return.
When he didn’t see her during his multiple trips back and forth to his truck while he was packing up his tools and equipment, Eddie resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to go looking for her. Since she hadn’t said anything about leaving the house, he assumed she had to be on the premises somewhere.
As unobtrusively as possible, he went through both floors of the house, going from room to room.
Tiffany wasn’t anywhere to be found.
Would she just leave the house—and him—without saying anything? Granted, it wasn’t as if she had to check in with him, since technically, he was the one working for her. But just walking out without letting him know that she was going or when she’d be back didn’t seem quite right to him.
What if something came up and he wanted to go home while she was out? He couldn’t very well just leave her house standing wide open. That was tantamount to issuing an invitation to any burglar in the area. And despite the fact that if anything happened, it wouldn’t be his fault, he would still feel responsible if someone did break in and steal something.
With a sigh, Eddie resigned himself to waiting for her to come home. That was when he happened to glance out the rear bedroom window. It was facing the tidily trimmed backyard, which was where Tiffany had disappeared to.
She appeared to be completely engrossed in a book. She was sitting at a small oval table in the little gazebo that was off to one side of the yard.
He should have thought of looking there first! Eddie upbraided himself as he left the bedroom and hurried down the staircase. After all, it was a beautiful April day.
Since she had obviously taken it upon herself to stick around while he worked, he could understand Tiffany wanting to take advantage of the weather. Which explained why she was outside, reading a book.
After reaching the bottom of the stairs, Eddie went to the rear of the house and opened the sliding glass door. It groaned a little as he did so. He debated leaving the door open—after all, informing her that he was leaving for the day wasn’t going to take any time, he reasoned. But then he thought better of it—just in case—and pulled the door closed again.
Despite the groaning noise, Tiffany didn’t even look up.
She was totally engrossed in the book she was reading—a real book, he noted with a smile, not one of those electronic devices that held the entire contents of the Los Angeles Public Library within its slender, rectangular frame.
For a moment he said nothing. He almost hated to disturb her, but he really needed to get going.
His body ached from swinging his sledgehammer and hauling out the wreckage that had been her bathroom just eight hours ago. What he craved right now was a long, bracing shower with wave after wave of hot, pulsating water hitting every tight muscle and ache he had—and a few that he probably didn’t even know he had.
Eddie cleared his throat, waiting for her to look up. But either she was too caught up in the story or he was being too quiet, because Tiffany went right on reading.
He tried clearing his throat again, much louder this time. When that had no effect, he decided to say something outright and tell her that he was leaving for the day.
He had no idea exactly how to address her; calling her “Ms. Lee” just didn’t seem right to him, since the very first time their paths had crossed they’d lived in the same neighborhood. She’d been four and he’d been five at the time. But given the nature of their present relationship, he couldn’t very well call her “Tiffany,” at least not until she recognized him.
So after giving the matter as much thought as he felt it deserved—which was very little—Eddie decided to forgo any salutation whatsoever and merely announced in a resonant voice that was bound to get her attention, “I’m leaving now.”
Startled—Tiffany really had been engrossed in the book she was reading, a fast-paced mystery by one of her favorite writers—she looked up and was truly surprised to find she was no longer alone in the backyard.
Doing what she could to reestablish her poise, she put down her book and then inquired almost regally, “You’re finished?”
Eddie nodded. “For the day.”
“But you’re coming back tomorrow, right?” she asked a little uncertainly as she got up from the small redwood table.
“I said I’d finish remodeling the bathroom, so yes, I’m coming back.” Since they were talking, he had a more important question for her. “Have you given any more thought to what you want?” Realizing she might find the sentence rather ambiguous, he quickly added, “In the way of colors? Fixtures? Styles?”
“I thought we agreed to leave that up to you.” The truth was she hadn’t given any thought to it at all.
He frowned slightly. “I didn’t think you were serious.”
There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t want some sort of input when it came to decorating her living space. At least he’d never met one, he amended. Given how opinionated and stubborn he remembered Tiffany being, he sincerely doubted that he’d met one now.
“I’ll make it easy for you,” he told her. “There’s an entire area in Anaheim that has store after store dealing with bathroom fixtures, tubs, medicine cabinets, tile and marble—”
But she shook her head, holding up her hand to stop him from going on. “There’s no point in telling me where those stores are. I wouldn’t know where to begin, or how much I needed of any particular thing,” she told him.
Eddie frowned inwardly. He didn’t want to put himself out there and volunteer to take her to the various shops. If nothing else, traipsing from one store to another would be very time consuming.
On the other hand, if he didn’t offer to go with her, he’d have nothing to work on tomorrow or next weekend, and this project could drag on indefinitely. He needed the money sooner rather than later.
Besides, he wanted to be able to get his head together for the new class he’d be taking over Monday morning. It wasn’t that he couldn’t multitask, but he definitely preferred not having his mind going in two different directions at the same time. It was a lot less stressful that way.
And just like that, without a single shot being fired, Eddie surrendered.
“All right, why don’t I take you to the different stores tomorrow?” he suggested. “That way, I can at least point you in the right direction and you can make the choices.”
He waited for her to agree. Instead, Tiffany had a strange look on her face. Not as if she was thinking over his offer, but more like she was trying hard to place something.
It
