whole. Jilly helped fill that void until Lacy knew the time had come to grow up and leave her secret sister behind.
Then years later, on a group date, she’d met Greg and soon after had never felt more complete in her life.
Spurred on by the day’s events, old thoughts and new questions, she strode to the guest bedroom in the 1960s California ranch house, the room with the attic opening. Once there, after pulling down the door with a broomstick-length hook and unfolding the spring-operated ladder, she climbed up and switched on the dangling single lightbulb inside. Boxes and boxes of her parents’ papers were stored up there. Hopefully, someone had taken the time to label some of them.
Unable to see well in the dim light, she chose willy-nilly two boxes filled with papers and manila folders, and dropped first one and then the other through the attic opening. They landed with loud, reverberating thuds on the floor, leaving a small dust cloud in their wake. The first box brought her small calico Daisy Mae out of hiding from another room, and the second box sent the cat lunging back for cover.
“Sorry, sweetie!”
A muted meow assured Lacy her little girl cat was okay. Probably ticked off, but okay.
After lifting the first box onto one of the twin beds, she rifled through it, finding ten years of federal and state tax forms. If she had the time one night, she’d shred them all. Lifting the second box, she remembered she needed to defrost the assortment of homemade hand pies she’d premade and kept stored in her deep freezer in the garage…the same one her father had used for food truck supplies for over twenty years.
She really didn’t have time for this wild-goose chase. With all those pies to thaw tonight and bake in the morning, she’d have to get up early. She also needed to take inventory of her paper goods and plastic utensils tonight or she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink. Everything had to be perfect tomorrow, because a potential long-term job offer depended on it.
Remembering the smiles on the faces of the construction crew on Friday when she’d handed out the pies and cups of coffee helped push that dark, dreary cloud away. Why drag up those old memories when all they did was bring her down? From now on she’d concentrate on the bright side of things. The future. Maybe that would bring her luck. She could use it.
She’d look through the second box another night. Besides, she had some making up to do with Daisy Mae, not to mention getting her beauty sleep. She wanted to look good when she officially started the construction job, which, in a perfect world, would lead to more interaction with the handsome Zackery Gardner.
One last check of her social media, where there were over a hundred likes. There were also a few comments in reply to her question about believing in everyone having a double. Most said yes. One person said something that made a lot of sense: We might think someone looks exactly like someone else until they stand side by side, then we’d see the difference.
Yes! Exactly. So logical. The woman at the wedding just thought Lacy looked like someone, but all she needed to do was have them stand side by side to realize how different they were. One last person Lacy didn’t know well said: I don’t think anyone could look exactly like me unless they were my twin.
The candid comment made Lacy scoff. Right. Then the hair stood on her arms again.
The sun was shining and the temperature a pleasant seventy-five degrees when Lacy pulled onto the Gardner construction site Monday at 11:15 a.m. Zack had asked her to be there by noon, and she wanted plenty of time to set up and heat the grill. Following his instructions from Friday, she drove toward a small group of sycamore trees set away from his modular office and parked in the shade beneath them. The sound of a thousand woodpeckers wreaking havoc jumbled her thoughts. The crew was obviously hard at work framing the next batch of houses. She hoped that meant they’d be hungry.
Before she set the brake on her truck, a young girl shot out of the office missile-straight through the dirt toward her. Lacy climbed from the cab just in time to meet the little brown-haired cutie as she hit the truck steps.
“Are you the food lady?” Breathless, the child inhaled before she blurted the next phrase. “I love pink!”
Grinning, because what else was Lacy supposed to do under the adorable circumstances, she nodded. “I am, and I love pink, too.”
“Pretty apron.” Could those dark eyes look any brighter?
“Why thanks. I like your sparkly pink T-shirt, too.”
“Thanks!”
“Emma, honey, leave Ms. Winters alone so she can get set up.” Zack wasn’t far behind, looking not only apologetic but impressive in a tan work shirt, the familiar snug jeans and work boots. He hadn’t worn his hard hat, and she got a good view of his due-for-a-cut dark blonde hair. Also impressive. This was his daughter? Which probably meant he was married, too. Of course he’d be.
Poof went her secret fantasy of picking up where they’d left off when she was eleven. The absurd thought almost made her laugh outright.
“We were just introducing ourselves,” Lacy said, trying not to give away her disappointment over him likely being married while also trying to sound upbeat, in case Emma was about to get in trouble for rushing the truck.
He held back a bit, letting Emma be. The girl fidgeted like a little bunny. “We don’t want to interfere with your setup.”
“I do have a few things to pull together, so…”
“Can I help?” Emma blurted.
Would it be a help or hindrance and throw her off schedule to find something for Emma to do? “Um, tell you what, give me half an hour to set up my kitchen, then I’ll let you put out the napkins and plastic utensils.”
“Okay!” Such enthusiasm.
Why was she here, anyway? Oh right, spring break, but did that mean Zack’s wife also worked? Probably. Two-income households were a sign of the times, especially in California.
“Great,” Zack said, a pleasing glint in his impressive green eyes.
Was that glint from being a happily married man? She wasn’t looking anyway; in fact, she’d been hiding out from all things “living” for the last year, focusing solely on getting her dad’s truck redone and taking it on the road. Still, a tiny voice in the back of her head was really disappointed.
“We’ll be back later.”
Later. Oh, right, she had a job to do—impress the heck out of him! She hoped later meant he would also order lunch. Handing out free coffee and pie samples to his men on Friday was one thing—who didn’t want free stuff? But bringing the customer back to order lunch, in this case fifty construction guys, give or take a dozen, was a wide bridge to cross. She hoped she’d made a good enough impression to coax at least half of them back.
The thought of having to earn her way into a job made her heart flutter, or maybe it was the extra sneak peek she’d taken of Zack’s backside while he’d guided his delightful daughter by her shoulder back to the office. Quit looking! You’re not interested.
Besides, he’s married.
Scratch flirting
