style="font-size:15px;"> Ignoring him, she headed for the ladder at the front of the house and placed one foot on the bottom rung. Craig came up behind her and lifted her off.
His voice came out in a warm breath against her ear. “I’ll go up first, and you stay on the ladder. Don’t you dare go on the roof.” After releasing her, he nudged past and hurried up the rungs. Once he was on the roof, he waited until she came near the top rung. “Now you stay put.” He held out his hands, palms facing her. Craig turned and scrambled across the tiles toward the damaged area. When he looked back, she was right behind him. “I told you—”
“Oh, stop having a hissy fit. I’m not afraid of heights.”
Craig sat on his haunches and chuckled. “I should have remembered you always have to do everything your own way.” He reached out and took her hand to pull her closer before turning to indicate the section that needed repair. “It’s not too bad, and I can get it done today if you approve.”
“How did this happen?” Trish poked at several shredded shingles.
“I found bits of branches embedded. The hurricane must have torn some limbs from one of the trees and shot them against the roof.”
“Definitely start on this as soon as possible.” After taking a seat next to him, she focused on the maple trees that lined the street. All the leaves had dropped, been raked into the street and carted away. She stretched out her legs and leaned back on her elbows, duplicating Craig’s stance. “I can see all the houses from here, and you’re right. Just about everyone’s put out their flags. It reminds me of Fourth of July. Remember marching in the parades?”
“Yep. Happy times.”
Trish pointed to an empty area on one of the corners. “Didn’t Mr. Flurry have a house there?”
“It was damaged during a fire. I was hired to demolish it.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. Luckily Mr. Flurry and his wife were on vacation at the time.”
She remembered Mr. Flurry, not exactly the nicest man around. “The people who bought my parents’ old house did some major additions, totally destroyed the cookie-cutter image of all those Cape Cod houses built after World War II. Have you made any changes to your place?”
“No. We don’t own it anymore. Not since my father died.”
Trish turned to him, wondering if she should pry. Why not? They’d always been able to talk to each other. “What happened?”
He cleared his throat. “Long story.”
“If you’d rather not...”
“No. It’s okay. Just don’t know where to begin.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “My father had problems, getting tired and unable to work a full shift. Mom forced him to go to the doctor. He needed a bypass.” Craig took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He didn’t make it, and his hospital bills were staggering.”
“Where do you and your mother live now?”
Craig sat back and relaxed next to her. “She and Noah moved in with her sister, that blue cookie-cutter house over there next to Mr. Flurry’s vacant lot.” He pointed to a house not too far from where Trish had lived. “My aunt Jenny didn’t have enough room for all of us, so I took an apartment near the lumberyard.”
Trish remembered his aunt, a pleasant woman who always had a full cookie jar. But the other name... “Who’s Noah?”
“My brother.”
Trish sat up with a start and stared, leaning toward him. “Your brother?”
Craig grasped her arm. “Watch it. We’re a good forty feet above the ground, and I don’t want to scrape you off the sidewalk.”
She slid over until they were hip to hip. “How did you get a brother?”
With a chuckle, Craig placed his arm around her shoulders and held on to her. “How do you think? Do I have to explain about the birds and the bees?”
Trish rolled her eyes and leaned against him. “I’ve got a good idea. However, wasn’t your mother a little old to be adding to your family?”
“Forty-three. And it wasn’t planned.”
“Obviously a welcomed surprise.” The two shared another laugh.
“So, Trish, where do you live?” he asked, not releasing her. His arm around her felt comfortable and something else...safe.
“In Queens, just a short subway trip to my job in Manhattan.”
“You planning to stay in Queens once you’re married?” Craig was staring out across the street.
“No. I have a lovely studio apartment, but it’s too small. Harrison has an older condo on the Palisades in New Jersey, overlooking the Hudson. Once he sells it, we’re hoping to combine our funds and get something closer to the city.” Trish concentrated on the toes of her sneakers and wiggled them a little before looking past them to the landscape spread before them.
“And this house wouldn’t do? You know we’re called the bedroom of New York for a reason. The train runs right through the town.” Craig pulled his arm away, leaned forward and pointed. “See? There it goes now. You just sit in a comfortable seat, take a nap or read a book, and you’re in Manhattan in no time.”
“My point exactly. I’ve tried talking to Harrison about it, but so far no luck.” She turned toward him, adding a smile. “Maybe you could convince him when he comes here.”
“Then you want to keep the house? Live here? Raise a family?”
With a sigh, Trish watched the train disappearing in the distance. “I want something we’ll both enjoy. If this place isn’t going to work for both of us, we’ll find something that does.”
Trish pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them and leaned forward. Craig sat up, as well, duplicating her position.
“Why did you stop writing to me?” he asked.
* * *
HE HAD TO KNOW. Before she left for Virginia, they had been best friends, talked to each other every day. They had shared everything. Their thoughts, their hopes, their dreams for the future. Why had their email correspondence suddenly stopped?
“I was new to the school... I’m sorry. I... We were so far away from each other.” She paused. Would she continue? He didn’t want to spook her, certainly not on the roof, but he remembered those months after she left as an agonizing time.
“I wanted to come back, live with my grandparents. But Gramp got sick, and Mom said I couldn’t.” Her gray-blue eyes, with flecks of gold, revealed a sadness that equaled his own. “My mother got on my case, said I had to adjust to my new life, meet new people.”
Trish turned away and pressed her face into her knees. “I did. Had a boyfriend, and he...well, he had a fit when he saw I was emailing you.” Her expression hardened. “It was ten years
