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In the backyard, Luke steadied the ladder. He had a couple of garden forks in hand, ready to climb up onto the roof. “Once we’ve stripped off the old shingles, we’ll know for sure the condition underneath.”
Matthew looked through the kitchen window, expecting to see Annie there at the sink. Odd. She hadn’t come out. She knew they were coming this morning. The beeping of the Dumpster delivery would have cued her in to that fact. Was she okay? Or maybe still sick.
“I’ll be up in a minute.”
Luke grinned. “Take your time.”
Matthew ignored the knowing expression on his brother’s face and tried the back door. It opened easily. Unlocked. But then it was nine in the morning and Annie had probably left the door open after she’d moved her car before they arrived. No need to get riled up. Yet.
He poked his head into the laundry room. “Annie?”
No answer.
He stepped into the small kitchen. It smelled like cinnamon. She put that spice in a lot of the dishes she made including her tea. Jack used to complain about Annie nagging him to eat weird stuff like sprouts and tofu sausage. She was something of a health-food nut and nearly vegetarian to boot. She ate fish, though. Annie loved grilled fish whenever he and Jack brought home a load of perch caught ice fishing during the shipping off-season.
“Annie?”
“Hmm?” Her muffled voice sounded from the living room.
“You feeling okay?” He walked softly toward her.
She was curled up on the sofa, sleeping under a knitted afghan. Her thick hair lay in a mass of dark blond waves on the throw pillow. It glimmered like gold, caught in a beam of sunlight streaming through the windows.
He slammed his hands in his pockets to keep from threading his fingers through all that hair.
Surely, she hadn’t slept there all night. Then he noticed the laptop on the floor, lid up but screen dark. And a mess of invoices lay stacked next to it. He recognized the double-M logo of her dance studio, Marshall Movement. She must have been working and had fallen asleep—but it was now nine in the morning. Was she not sleeping well at night?
Quietly, he returned to the backyard. Up the ladder, he joined his brother on the roof.
“Everything okay?” Luke handed him one of the garden forks.
“I don’t know.” Matthew slipped on his work gloves and started tearing off old shingles. They tossed them in the rented Dumpster as they went. “She’s sleeping.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “You went upstairs?”
“She was on the couch.” Matthew tried to shrug off his concern, but it stayed close and pestered.
Annie could take care of herself. He knew that. But was she? He’d never known her to look so pale and weak. Was that due to morning sickness, or was grief dragging her down, too? Matthew aimed to find out and help where he could.
* * *
“Lunch is here,” Annie yelled up the ladder, squinting in the bright sunshine.
Matthew’s head popped into view. “Lunch?”
“Pizza. I had it delivered.” Annie felt pretty good considering her morning was officially shot. She had woken up at seven, fallen back asleep and now it was noon. Her first dance class wasn’t until two this afternoon, so she had time to get a few things done before she left.
The guys climbed down the ladder, washed up at the laundry room sink, then joined her on the back deck.
“Thanks.” Luke popped the lid of the pizza box and dug in.
Matthew poured a cup of pop from the two-liter.
“There’s water in the cooler, too. Help yourself. It’s supposed to be hot today.” Annie grabbed a water bottle and sat down under the market umbrella that shaded her deck table and chair set. She had to eat something, so a handful of crackers and some plain Greek yogurt would have to do. She hoped.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Matthew pulled two slices of steaming pepperoni-and-cheese onto a paper plate and sat next to her.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell of grease. “Not sure I can do pizza even picking off the meat.”
He gave her meager lunch a long look. “Did you eat this morning?”
Annie wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I had a little something.”
“What?”
Her eyes flashed. “Toast, okay?”
“Dude—” Luke started, but Matthew silenced him with a hard look.
Annie was glad Matthew didn’t defend his overbearing concern, but she gave his brother her sympathy. “He thinks he’s helping.”
Luke laughed and bit into the steaming pizza.
While the men ate, Annie looked over her backyard. She usually put in a small garden in the corner. Memorial weekend had always been her planting time, but she hadn’t so much as tilled the soil yet. Too tired. When would she stop feeling so tired?
And alone.
She was used to Jack gone for months at a time out on the lakes, but knowing he’d never come back had set her adrift.
She spotted strips of torn shingles hanging from the Dumpster and littering the ground where the guys had missed. Too easily, she could picture her husband making jokes about their aim and her heart twisted.
“Thank you for lunch.” Matthew’s serious-sounding voice caught her attention.
She looked at him. His nose was sunburned. The yellow T-shirt he wore was damp and dirty in spots, but he smelled good, like fresh air and sunshine. She even sniffed a hint of spice when he moved.
Matthew was definitely a handsome man but she had no business noticing. So why’d she feel this pull toward him? Was it their shared grief or her crazy hormones kicking in? How could she find him attractive so soon after the husband she loved had died?
He looked at her, too, his gaze locked with hers.
He was never far from her thoughts these days. Could Matthew read them, too? She cleared her throat. “It’s the least I can do considering the work you guys are doing. How does it look up there?”
“Good,” Luke mumbled around a mouthful. “No damage underneath the old shingles.”
“I’ll leave the back door unlocked when I leave. There’s a bathroom off the kitchen. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, too.” She nibbled a cracker.
Luke stood with another piece of pizza in hand. “Thanks, Annie.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and nodded toward his brother. “I’m going back up.”
“I’ll be a sec.”
Luke nodded and left.
Annie stood, as well, uncomfortable sitting alone with Matthew. “I’ll get you my credit card.”
He touched her arm. “No need. I’ll have an invoice prepared with a detailed list of items purchased from the hardware store. We used our uncle’s account so you’ve got three weeks to pay on it.”
“Oh.” She slumped back into her chair, feeling a little nauseous and lost, but oddly comforted by his touch.
She looked at him.
He looked back.
Really, what could they talk about? They’d never had trouble with conversation before, but it was different now. They were different. She tipped her head back against her chair and closed her eyes, willing the upset in her belly to settle.
Matthew’s fingertips slid to her hand. “You okay?”
That gentle gesture zinged up her arm. “Fine. I just— Can you close that pizza box?”
Her skin cooled where his fingers had been as he secured the cardboard lid and pushed the offensive pizza away.
Annie finally opened her eyes. “I should get ready for my class.”
“Maybe you should skip today.” He sounded worried.
“Oh, no.” She popped out of her seat. “I’m fine. Really.”
Matthew didn’t look as if he believed her. In fact, he looked irritated.
Welcome to the club.
Irritation and worry were Annie’s daily companions, lined up behind the empty feeling of loss. Right now she couldn’t take the concern in Matthew’s eyes. Nor the desire to lean on him. He had broad shoulders that she’d cried against before. She didn’t want to do it again or she might not stop.
“So what did the doctor say about all this?”
“The usual stuff, I suppose.” Annie didn’t want to admit her fears or that high-risk label. It’d only make Matthew worry that much more. She didn’t want him hovering too close, either.
“When will it be born?” Matthew pressed.
“It?” She laughed when his cheeks reddened.
“He, she... I don’t know what to say.”
Annie patted his shoulder and felt his muscles tense beneath her touch. “Before Thanksgiving.”
“That’s before the close of the shipping season.” Matthew stood up and faced her.
Why’d he look so concerned? “Yeah, so?”
“So...I want to be there.”
Annie’s stomach flipped but she shook her head. What was he thinking offering up something like that? “I’ll be fine. Ginger can go with me.”
The curse of every single mother reduced to having their friends there for delivery instead of the baby’s father. She and Jack would have had all winter together with their child. And now?
Christmas was going to be horrible this year.
Matthew saw too much and stood too close. “Aww, Annie.”
Annie backed away before she did something stupid like pulling him into her arms. Those broad shoulders of his were calling out for another good cry.
One, two, three...
Her tongue felt dry and thick, but she managed to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
The following evening, Matthew stepped inside Annie’s dance studio. She’d taken over a space once used as an exercise gym. The storefront remained a wall of windows that Annie had covered with see-through fabric framed by maroon velvet curtains. The other walls were covered with mirrors. Classical music played softly over the sound system.
A few people that he assumed might be parents lingered while Annie worked with a group of young girls. They stood in a single line and gripped a waist-high bar.
“First, second, third...” Annie called out the numbers as she moved into different positions. Up on her toes, down, pointed leg out, back in.
Her students followed her lead.
Annie didn’t use a bar and she moved with fluid grace. Her hair had been twined into a knot at the back of her head making her neck look long like the rest of her. She wore a leotard over black leggings and a filmy skirt. Her stomach looked as trim as the rest of her.
Jack had met Annie at a coffee shop in Grand Rapids where she’d been a ballerina with a company there. She’d left performing behind when they moved north and set up this studio. If he remembered correctly, she taught both ballet and exercise—advanced stretching or something.
Annie caught him watching her and faltered.
He smiled. She must have been beautiful on stage.
Checking her watch, Annie announced. “Okay, ladies, that’s it for today. Nice job.”
A chorus of “aww” rang out.
While she talked to parents, he toured the wall of fame decorated with pictures of local dance productions Annie had been involved with and previous students that had gone beyond what this area had to offer.
He turned when he heard her approach.
“Sorry.” Her face flushed. No, her skin glowed. But that could be from the sheen of healthy perspiration along her forehead. She wiped it away with a towel and then looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”
Good question. “I thought I’d go over the invoice that lists out the roofing materials with you.”
She tipped her head. “You could have brought it over tomorrow.”
“I was on my way home and thought maybe you’d want to grab dinner.” Showing Annie what she paid for on the roof was reason enough to stop by. But then, maybe it was about spending time with her, too, making sure she was okay. Stopping by her house later wasn’t a good idea, and tomorrow, he’d be busy with the roof, hurried along by Luke.
“Dinner, huh?” She looked wary.
“Are you feeling up to it?”
Then annoyed. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”
“I know.” So why was he? He thought about her a lot. Maybe too much. “But we both have to eat.”
She smiled. “I am hungry and cooking doesn’t sound appealing tonight.”
“I’ll even let you pick the place.” He smiled back.
That earned him an evil look of mischief like the old Annie. “There’s a new restaurant down the street that’s good.”
Matthew got nervous considering what Annie thought was good food. “Do they serve real meat?”
“Yes.” She chuckled and sat down to unlace the ribbons of her ivory-colored ballet shoes with the square toes.
“Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?” She pulled off a sheer footie sock.
“Standing on your toes like that.”
Annie stretched out bare feet and wiggled her skinny, calloused toes that were taped in places. “I’ve exercised them all my life to make them strong, so I’m used to it. But my feet are ugly.”
He’d never noticed her feet before. They looked work-hardened but not bad. “I’ve seen prettier.”
She clobbered him in the shoulder but laughed. It sounded good hearing her laugh. “Let me throw on a cover-up and we’ll go.”
“I’ll be right here.” He meant it, too. She could lean on him. “Always here for you. I hope you know that.”
She nodded. After scooping up her ballet shoes, she entered her windowed office and slipped on a baggy cotton dress over her dance clothes. Annie turned off the lights and swung a big purse over her shoulder before coming back to stand before him. She’d slipped into cloth-like flats that barely covered her feet.
“After you.” She opened the door for him.
He stepped outside and waited while she locked up. “How far is it?”
Annie shrugged. “About a block away. Do you mind walking?”
“Not at all.” He almost reached for her hand.
This felt a lot like a date. Was he trying to date Annie Marshall? Surely, it was too soon to go there.
He glanced at the woman walking beside him. She was a few years older than him. Not that it mattered. Not to him. The fine lines near her eyes didn’t detract a bit. She’d always been beautiful. And ageless, like one of those models he’d see on infomercials sharing their fountain-of-youth secrets.
Annie caught him staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” He really needed to cover this awkward awareness or they’d have an uncomfortable dinner together. “I was just picturing your feet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Real nice.”
It felt good to tease her. Like they were friends again and nothing had happened to change that. There was no reason to let one kiss change what they were. They were friends. He needed to remember that.
Chapter Three
“Thanks for dinner.” Annie snuggled deeper against the passenger seat of Matthew’s truck. She should have stood her ground and walked home like normal. It might have energized her after dinner. The restaurant was only a few blocks from her house, but Matthew wouldn’t hear of it.
Matthew turned onto her street. “No problem.”
After the cold, damp month of April, May had whispered in with warm days, but the evenings still turned cool.
It was still daylight at nine in the evening as the sun hadn’t quite set. One of the many advantages of living in northern Michigan was the long days summer provided.
She let loose a yawn and her eyelids drooped.
“Tired?”
“Yeah. I ate way too much.”
Matthew chuckled. “I’m glad you’ve got your appetite back.”
Tonight, her appetite had returned with a vengeance. She’d eaten everything in sight while Matthew went over the list of materials purchased for her roof. She’d told him not to worry, that she trusted him, but he’d been thorough, anyway. He wanted her to know what he and his brother were doing and why.
He pulled into her driveway and put the truck in park then turned toward her. “I’m worried about you.”
Annie stared straight ahead. “Don’t be. Please? I’m working through this.”
“You don’t have to do it alone. I’m right here.”
Annie looked at Matthew’s earnest face. It’d be easy to depend on him. And too easy to repeat the kiss that had happened in this same truck. She wasn’t going to do that to him. It wasn’t fair to trap him into something that was merely grief-driven, or worse. Maybe this was about hormones.
She forced a smile. “I know you are, and I appreciate it. You don’t owe me anything, Matthew.”
He looked relieved, but troubled. “I know.”
She cupped his cheek and smiled. “I’m okay.”
He leaned toward her, only slightly, and then stopped. His blue eyes searched hers.
Annie pulled her hand back before her overactive hormones kicked her into trouble. Again. “Good night, Matthew.”
“Good night.”
She slipped out of his truck. Bounding up the stairs onto the porch, she turned and waved before unlocking her door. He didn’t leave. She knew he wouldn’t leave until she was safely inside.
And behind a locked door.
In the dining room, she peeked through the curtains. Matthew waved then left. He treated her like glass since he’d come home. Maybe because she’d shattered so quickly after that kiss.
Her purse vibrated, so she pulled out her cell phone. “Hello?”
“Annie, where are you? I was getting worried.” Ginger had called twice according to her missed calls.
“Sorry, I went out to dinner and forgot to switch my phone back to a ringtone after dance class. What’s up?”
“I wanted to see how you’re feeling.”
Annie clamped down irritation. Really, she should be thankful that she had good friends. People who cared. But she wasn’t twelve years old and staying home alone for the first time. “I’m fine.”
“Wait, who’d you go to dinner with?”
“I went with Matthew.”
“Oh?”
Annie knew that tone well. She wasn’t biting on her friend’s tell-me-more interest. “What’s with that stunt in selling him morning sickness tea?”
“He asked what you’d like, so that seemed like the perfect choice because you needed something for the nausea.” She sounded innocent enough. “Does it help?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want anyone to know. Not yet.” Annie plopped onto the couch and kicked off her shoes before putting her feet up.
Despite the red nail polish on her toes, she’d always have ugly feet. How many times had her mother-in-law said it was unnatural to go en pointe?
“So, he figured it out?”
“Yeah, and now he’s redoing my roof.” Annie wiggled her toes.
“Out of the blue, he’s replacing your roof?”
“No. He and Jack were going to do it this summer, during their shared week off. Matthew wanted to keep that promise. His brother is helping him.”
“Uh-huh.”
Was that sarcasm she heard? “Ginger—”
“Sounds to me like he’s doing this for you because he cares.”
“Of course he cares. He was Jack’s best friend.” Annie’s stomach tipped and rolled.
Gas bubbles? And small wonder after the meal she’d eaten. This weird feeling had more to do with her digestion than any dawning attraction to Matthew. She’d read about what to expect in the months ahead. She shouldn’t feel the baby’s movements for a least another couple weeks to a month.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Annie knew exactly what Ginger meant. “It’s way too soon.”
Her friend snorted. “Says who?”
“Seriously? Anyone would think it’s too soon. Besides, how can I even think about someone else after Jack?”
“Jack’s gone, hon.” Ginger’s voice grew soft and full of sympathy. “It’s okay to care for someone new. Especially someone who understands what you’re going through. Matthew knows how much this hurts.”
Annie’s throat grew tight. That’s what was scary. Matthew knew her well. He felt what she felt. But half of her also felt dead. Grief had a way of numbing emotions, and some feelings never came back. Not exactly a prize for a guy as sweet as Matthew Zelinsky. He deserved better. He deserved someone whole. And someone young.
* * *
The next day, Matthew took in his and Luke’s handiwork from atop Annie’s home. The roof was nearly done. With rain forecasted for the looming Memorial Day weekend, they’d finish up in the nick of time. He stretched and yawned.
He spotted Annie resting in a lounge chair after she’d spent the morning weeding her flower beds. Her small garden plot lay untouched and unready for planting. Now that it was only her, maybe she didn’t want to plant vegetables.
That small reminder of Jack’s death hit him like a punch in the gut as a sense of loss swamped him. Jack had always bragged about his wife’s cucumbers and tomatoes and onions. He used to bring bags of her homegrown veggies onto the laker. Matthew hated the thought of Annie giving it up.
She hadn’t moved from that lounge chair in a while. Had she fallen asleep again? Dressed in loose overall shorts and a T-shirt, Annie had a large floppy hat covering her face so he couldn’t tell if she was awake or not.
He checked his watch. Nearly noon. “Hey, I’m going to buzz home real quick.”
“What for?” Luke took a long swig from his water bottle.
The sun scorched them both and lunch would be a welcome break.
“I’m going to grab that fish we caught last night. We can grill it here for lunch.” Maybe that’d bolster Annie’s spirits. She loved a fresh catch.
“Good idea.”
Matthew climbed down the ladder. “Anything you want to go with it?”
“Coleslaw.”
He nodded. Annie had been feeding him and his little brother every day. Lunch was ordered in or picked up from the corner IGA store. They’d had pizza, sub sandwiches and even a bucket of fried chicken. Stuff Annie didn’t eat. Today, he’d grill something for her and maybe pick up a couple funky salads, too. Annie liked a lot of greens. She’d eaten a whole plateful of rabbit food last night at dinner.
It didn’t take long to buy what he needed. The small house he shared with one of his older brothers—and soon Luke—sat on the edge of town. Right near the locally owned and operated grocery store. In less than half an hour, he was back at Annie’s lighting the gas grill.
Luke worked on the roof while he grilled and Annie continued to snooze. The woman could really sleep. Did the baby sap her energy, or was it depression? Grief could fall into despair.
He prayed Annie wasn’t so wrecked by Jack’s death that she couldn’t sleep at night. She had smiled, though. Laughed even. With him. So he had hope that she was making her way back.
He stepped inside to gather plates, utensils and glasses full of ice. Annie kept the cooler outside stocked with water and pop. She’d also made sun tea in a big glass jar with a spigot.
Luke appeared from the roof and set the table.
Annie woke up and, looking dazed, headed toward the deck gripping her midsection. “What’s that garlicky smell?”
“Lunch.” He lifted the lid and pulled the tray of perfectly seasoned walleye fillets off the grill. “Luke and I caught these last night.”
Annie’s face went pale. No. More like ashen-green. He’d seen that same skin color when rookies got sea-sick on the lakes. She slapped a hand over her mouth and backed away. Fast. She didn’t make it far before she retched in an empty flowerpot.
He set the fish back on the grill and bounded down the steps with a handful of napkins. “Wow, Annie, I’m sorry. I thought you’d like fish and didn’t think...”
She breathed deep and held out her hand to stay back. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
He watched her heave once more but nothing came out. He placed his hand on her back and held out the napkins.
She gripped his hand. Hard.
He suddenly chuckled at the situation. Who threw up in an empty flowerpot? “You done?”
“I don’t know.”
He caught his brother’s eye. “Luke, grab a bottle of water, would you?”
Luke had filled his plate but stood frozen in place, eyes wide. Then he moved quickly, slamming the cooler lid and bounding down the stairs with water. “What’s wrong with her?”
“No, don’t...” Annie retched again.