what would I do with a jewelry empire? If it won’t stop a leak in old Mrs. Fairbanks’s toilet, what good is it?”
Her father managed a strained laugh at that. “I guess you have a point there, girlie.”
His expression turned somber once more and the silence lengthened. Eddi felt certain that he didn’t know where to take the conversation from here any more than she did. What did one say at a time like this?
“You know this isn’t going to go away just because you want it to,” he said eventually, his tone as grim as she felt at the moment.
She nodded. “I know.” She hugged her knees to her chest once more. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Well.” Her father scratched his head and considered the question for a time. “It seems to me that you owe it to yourself as well as your grandmother to get to know her.”
“I already have the best two grandmothers anyone could want,” Eddi protested. “What do I need with another?”
“Look here, girlie.” Her father looped an arm around her slumped shoulders. “You deserve better than to be a plumber the rest of your life.” He shushed her with a firm look when she would have rebutted. “Slaving away at that hardware isn’t the answer either. I want better for you same as my daddy wanted better for me. We’re scarcely hanging on to that old place anyway. It’s past time I sold out and retired.” He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Truth is, I’ve only hung on so I wouldn’t let you down. What do I need with that old place to fool with day in and day out? Your mother and I could take up gardening or some such.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Whatever happens, I know you’ll do the right thing.”
Knots of anxiety tangled in her stomach once more. She knew what he was doing. He wanted to give her an out. Her father loved that old hardware store and she knew it. He’d be lost without it to go to every day. Her mother hated gardening other than a pot or two of flowers. She had preferred knitting or needlepoint over gardening even before her accident.
Out of the blue, inspiration struck. A slow smile slid across Eddi’s face. Why hadn’t she thought of that already?
Eddi threw her arms around her father and hugged him again. “Dad, you’re a genius!” She shot to her feet and beamed a smile down at him. “Tell Mom I won’t be by for dinner tonight. I have something to do.”
Her father waved a goodbye as she loped out to Mr. Cooper’s SUV. “Are we still on for dinner?” she asked the handsome man watching her so steadily.
“Absolutely.” He allowed her one of those smiles that literally oozed with magnetism.
Before she melted right there on the sidewalk, she said, “Follow me to my place. I need to change.”
Three traffic lights and five turns later, she pulled into the driveway of her small cottage. The little house had once belonged to her grandmother and grandfather Harper, but since they’d relocated to the retirement home, she’d moved in. She loved the place. Even as a child she’d known that one day she wanted to live here.
The small stone cottage sat amid a cluster of shady trees with only a small patch of grass to mow out front and nothing but flagstone pavers and flower beds out back. Two tiny bedrooms and only one bath, along with a nice-size living-dining room combination and kitchen made up the interior. She even had her own little fireplace.
Exhaling a satisfied sigh at being home at last, Eddi hopped out of her truck and practically skipped up the path that led to her front door. The answer was so simple. Relief was like a soothing balm, she felt immensely better already. Before going inside, she reached in the box hanging by the door and retrieved the day’s mail. “Bills, bills, bills,” she muttered. Nothing she wanted to see tonight.
“Nice place,” Mr. Cooper commented as he moved up behind her.
Despite all that had happened and knowing that he had brought this unsettling news upon her, Eddi shivered at the sound of his voice. As smooth as satin and every bit as rich. She shook off the thought and jammed her key into the lock.
“Thank you. It belongs to my grandparents. They let me use it since they live at the retirement home now.”
See, she wanted to add, my family already takes good care of itself. We don’t need anything from the D’Martines.
She tucked her key back into her pocket and pushed open the door. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Still, she had to approach this logically. She couldn’t let emotions play into it at all. And that would be difficult. She’d always been ruled by her heart ensuring that she’d been faced with difficult before. She could handle this.
She flipped on the light and held the door for Mr. Cooper to come on inside. She found herself holding her breath as he passed then stood in the middle of the room and took in the cozy living area. Never once had she imagined how this place would look to a stranger. She’d never had a stranger over before. She tried to see the room from his eyes, with its high ceilings and thick crown moldings. Her grandfather had loved working with his hands and had detailed every square inch of woodwork in this house himself. The floors were hardwood, but thick rugs covered most of it. The furniture was worn comfortable and a vintage she couldn’t name…early fifties maybe. An interior designer or decorator she wasn’t. But line up faucets in front of her and she could name the year and the manufacturer.
“I’ll just be a moment, Mr. Cooper,” she said, breaking into his careful study of her natural habitat. “Make yourself at home.”
He turned to her then. “Doug. Please, call me Doug.”
She nodded and forced a smile. “Be back in two shakes, Doug.”
In her bedroom she closed the door and suddenly wondered what on earth she would wear. Okay, she told herself, it wasn’t as if it was a date. She could wear any old thing.
But where would they go?
She mentally ticked off all four of the local restaurants and finally decided on Randy’s. The place was the nicest in town and served a wide variety of entrées. Though she didn’t expect Mr. Cooper—Doug, she amended—to be impressed, at least he wouldn’t go hungry.
Clothes…what to wear? She chewed her lower lip and tried to decide if she even still owned a dress other than the ones she wore to church, which were sorely out of date and totally unflattering. She had gone to her five-year high-school reunion a couple of years ago. Hadn’t she bought something then?
Sixty seconds later she’d gone through her entire closet to finally find the dress in question on the last hanger on the opposite side from where she’d started. Just her luck.
The dress was black…that was good. She’d seen ladies wear little black dresses into Randy’s. The problem was, it had long sleeves and it was unseasonably warm out tonight and the hem was just a smidgen on the long side with a floppy ruffle. But that had been the style two years ago. Or maybe it was simply the one dress on the clearance rack she’d liked.
Oh, well. It wasn’t as though she had a lot of choices.
She couldn’t keep her guest waiting forever. With that in mind she rushed through a sponge bath and twisted her hair up into a bun of sorts. No kind of makeup ever looked good with her complexion so she didn’t even bother. A spritz of fruit-scented spray and she was ready.
But
