back to the little girl and picked her up.
His heart did a funny little twist at the sight of his daughter holding a toddler. Sofia would love to have a little sister. He and Elizabeth had hoped for that, planned for it.
Plans don’t always work out. “Does somebody live in your carriage house now?” he asked to distract himself.
“No. I was using it for my dog-walking business, but now...” She shrugged, looking away. “I just want to rent it out.”
“You’re not thinking of trying another business?”
“Well...I’d like to. But...no. Not for now.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Clear enough. None of my business. “Why don’t you show me what you’re thinking of doing in the yard first, since that’ll take more time. I can look at the carriage house after.”
“Okay, sure.” She wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans. As she headed to the side yard, he fell into step beside her. It was nice that she was so tall. Easy for them to walk in step.
Unbidden, a memory of Elizabeth, scolding him for his tendency to outpace her, came to mind.
Fiona was talking, and he forced himself to focus. “So over here,” she said, “I’m thinking about digging up this whole section and planting vegetables. Corn and tomatoes and squash and peppers. I’d like to maybe slope it south? To catch the sun?”
“That makes sense.” He looked around the yard, measured it in his mind, pictured some ways it could look. “You thinking about raised beds?”
“Yes, if it’s possible.”
He nodded. “I think we could put in three small terraces. It would look good.” He bent down, pinched up some soil and squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger. Thick and hard; too much clay. “You’re going to need some soil amendments. In future years you can compost, if you’re into that, but you’ll probably have to shell out for commercial stuff this year. Peat moss, humus, maybe some mushroom compost. It’ll cost you.”
“That’s not a problem,” she said, and then a blush rose up her cheeks again and she looked away. “I...inherited some money. Nothing I earned myself.”
He’d known she was wealthy. A lot of his customers were. As a professional, he could look at it as a good thing. “Hey, it’s great you can afford to do that. It’ll get your garden off to a strong start. Mind if I take some measurements?”
“That would be great. And here’s the key to the carriage house. Go ahead and look around when you’re done.”
She checked on the kids while he measured and sketched. By the time they’d gotten around to the other side of the yard and discussed fruit trees and blueberry bushes, they were more at ease with each other. And when the kids came running up, thirsty, he helped her get drinks for everyone and accepted one himself.
While Fiona bandaged Ryan’s scraped knee and helped Poppy change into a clean outfit—some kind of a mud puddle accident—Eduardo went out onto the porch and tried to get started on an estimate.
He found himself thinking about Fiona instead.
Specifically, about her past.
It was common knowledge in town that Fiona had been married to a wealthy man. And that her husband had turned out to have a double life, but Eduardo didn’t know any of the details. Now he found himself curious and sympathetic. How did you explain something like that to your kids? How did you deal with it yourself?
And why on earth would anyone who was married to Fiona have felt the need for someone else?
Eduardo did another walk-around, checked a couple of measurements and looked up costs online. By the time he’d finished, the afternoon sun was sinking toward the horizon.
Dinnertime. He needed to take a look at the carriage house, collect his kids and go back to the motel where they were staying. He’d finalize the estimate tonight and email it all to her, and mull over renting the carriage house if it seemed suitable. It would mean a late night, but the job would be great for his bottom line, and the fact that he could work on it basically from home, if the rental worked out, meant that he could get to it quickly.
Sofia was running across the lawn and he called to her. “Get your brother,” he said. “I’m going to take a quick look at the carriage house and then go inside to talk to Mrs. Farmingham. After that, we’ll head home.”
“But we’re having fun!”
“Sofia...” He lifted an eyebrow. She was just starting to question his authority, and he understood it was a stage. But she needed rules and boundaries, and she needed to obey.
“I...” She seemed to read the firmness in his eyes. “Okay.” She gave him a little hug and then ran toward her brother.
Eduardo looked after her, bemused. How long would she keep giving him spontaneous hugs?
He walked through the carriage house. It was small but pretty and sturdy, well built. He checked the smoke alarms and found them all working. Three small bedrooms, a kitchen with space for a table, a sunny front room with hardwood floors.
If Fiona was charging a reasonable price, this place would be perfect.
He went to the front door of Fiona’s house, tapped on it, and when there was no answer, he walked inside. “Fiona?”
He heard her voice from the kitchen, so he headed in that direction. “Hey, I’m about done—” He broke off, realizing she was on a video call.
The image on her big laptop computer screen was blurry, an older woman, but the voice was perfectly clear. “You really need to watch what you’re eating, honey.”
“Mom, we’ve talked about this.” Fiona’s voice was strained.
“But you’ve gained so much weight, and at your height...”
“Heard and understood, Mother. I’ll get the kids.” Fiona turned away, stepped out of the computer camera’s range and buried her head in her hands. Her shoulders started to shake.
Eduardo backed away—nobody wanted a witness to their breakdown—but despite the fact that the old house had been beautifully renovated, you couldn’t eliminate creaky floors. He felt the loose board beneath his feet at the same moment he heard a loud squeak.
Fiona looked up and saw him, and her face contorted even more. “Get out,” she whispered through tears. “Just get out.”
“He has to hate me.” Fiona pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and picked up the pace, glancing over at her friends Susan and Daisy. She’d tried to back out of their planned morning walk, but they must have heard something in her voice, because they’d come over anyway and insisted that she join them. And they were right: it did feel good to get out and move in the fresh spring air.
“I doubt he hates you,” Daisy said. “Okay, it sounds like it was awkward,
