can start over there.”
Nick had stretched the truth a bit. Not that he hadn’t planned to help, but his offer was the way to a means. He needed to work it into the conversation without making a big deal out of it although it was to him. He could ask point-blank, but he preferred to ease it in. Martin enjoyed pointing out his guilt.
He hoisted a heavy box onto the table and flipped open the lid. “By the way, I met your neighbor.”
Martin grunted.
“She’s very nice.”
“She?” Martin arched an eyebrow.
Nick nodded. “Good sense of humor. Attractive.”
“What does that mean?” Martin’s voice left no question that he was aggravated.
Nick swiveled. “It means she’s a pretty woman.” Pretty wasn’t the half of it. She was great looking. “And she likes dogs.”
A dark frown filled Martin’s face. “I hope you’re not matchmaking.”
“You’re kidding? I wouldn’t put a lovely woman through that.” Nick had tried to sound lighthearted.
“Glad to hear it.”
Nick avoided looking in Martin’s direction. His brother would see the truth in his eyes. He’d been drawn to Steph from the moment he watched her march across the grass, and the more he thought about it, an unsettled feeling rocked in his stomach. Nick dug deeper into the box.
The rustle of packing material quieted, and their conversation ended until Martin blurted into the silence. “What makes you think this woman likes dogs?”
“She owns a border collie.”
“Seems like everyone owns some kind of mutt.” Irritation weighted Martin’s voice.
“Attitude. Attitude, bro. Suzette’s not the only dog in the world.” Steph’s spoiled brother had nothing on the Bouvier. Suzette also wore a crown in Martin’s eyes. Nick pulled out more packing material from the box. “He might not be as classy, but he’s a well-trained dog. That’s more than I can say about Suzette.”
Martin spun around to face him, but Nick refused to back off. “The border collie’s friendly. Give him a chance. I know how you are.”
“I don’t want him getting friendly with Suzette. She’s purebred.”
Despite his provocation, Nick tried to cover his grin, thinking of Steph’s “la-di-da” comment.
Rather than start a quarrel, Nick didn’t respond. “Where do you want the china dinnerware?”
Martin didn’t speak but motioned to a cabinet.
Nick opened the door, then lifted an octagonal plate with a bamboo shaped edge and slid it onto a shelf. Expensive he could tell. He grabbed another and flipped it over. Royal Signet China. Nick never heard of it, but he knew Martin’s taste.
His own taste raised in question. What had happened to him? He’d never cared about fancy china or expensive crystal. Women often fussed about that, he remembered. What kind of tableware did Steph own? What difference did it make? He’d never see it.
He emptied the box, then slapped the lid closed. He’d already experienced one fiancée who tossed her ring in his face just before the wedding. Why would he allow himself to even daydream about another?
The memory triggered a new question. He paused until he got Martin’s attention. “Have you ever thought about dating again?”
Martin’s head drew back. “Me?”
“You’re the only other person in the room.” Nick stood with his hand on the box lid. Martin’s social life ended after his failed marriage. He’d never been one to hang out with friends, and Nick didn’t recall Martin dating anyone other than the woman he’d married.
“Why would I date?”
“You have a good life. You have a new home that’s too big for even one person.”
“One person and a dog.”
“Okay, and a dog.” A stream of air burst from his nose. “I just wondered. You’re still young enough. You’ve been divorced for—”
“Don’t bring that up.”
Nick drew in a breath. “You have lots of things going for you, but for some reason, you aren’t happy.”
“I’m happy.” Martin spun around, pointing his index finger at him. “And what about you? I don’t see you with a social life to brag about.”
His brother had nailed him. But Nick had an excuse. The business took a lot of time and money. Nick faltered. That was an excuse. He’d avoided commitment since his failed engagement. Maybe dating would work without marriage as an option. He wondered about Steph’s situation. She was single, he assumed. He’d noticed she didn’t wear a ring, and she’d even flirted a little. But that didn’t mean much in today’s society.
Nick opened another carton and removed layers of Bubble Wrap. When he looked inside, he caught his breath. He grasped a crystal plate as memories flooded back. He drew out a faceted crystal bowl, and beside it, he recognized other pieces from his youth. “These were Mother’s.” Sadness washed over him, picturing his mom since the stroke.
Martin glanced up and nodded. “You took some of her dishes, didn’t you?”
“A few things.”
Tension grew on his brother’s face.
“I’m not challenging the pieces you have, Martin. You use them more than I would.”
His brother gave a shrug and lifted another box from the floor.
The door had been opened to his true purpose for dropping by. Feeling the weight of his question, Nick managed to form the words. “Have you talked with her?”
“By her, you mean Mom?”
The question was moot. Nick didn’t answer.
“I’ve talked to her. She can’t utter a thing that makes sense.” He turned from the carton and leaned against the counter, his eyes piercing Nick’s. “You’re avoiding her.”
The words lashed Nick like a whip. “I’m not avoiding her. It kills me to see her so helpless.”
“You don’t think it kills me? Ignoring her doesn’t help. Do you think I don’t have to force myself to visit her in that condition and fill the time with one-sided conversation? You can’t shun her. She’s still your mother.”
“I know. I know.” Nick blocked his ears from Martin’s accusations. “I visit.”
“When was the last time?”
Like a punch in the stomach, Martin’s question knocked the wind out of Nick. “I’ll go. I just wondered if
