Chapter 5 - Diana
“What else?”
I still can’t believe he’s here. It’s been a week since he walked out of the hospital, and on a random day after work, I do something that I’ve been putting off all month and find him. And he wants to help.
We’ve already picked out the knobs and the paint. I should just pay to get a whole new set of cabinets, but a little freshening up will be good enough. At least the paint will hide some cracks and divots if everything is the same color and not showing the chipped brown underneath it.
Yeah, we’ve painted the cabinets before.
Years ago, before Mom got sick. When everyone was doing white kitchens, we went brown.
Now Nana is into the two-tone color idea, but instead of light on top and dark on the bottom, she wants the opposite.
Not sure it’ll look good, so we just got samples to try them out before we get the big buckets.
I shake my head. “Unless you know how to fix an electrical switch, I think we’re done for the day.”
“What’s wrong with the switch?”
I shrug as I push the cart toward the front. He takes it easily from me. I’m not one to put up a fuss about pushing something when someone else wants to do it. I push wheelchairs with people in them all day long. Having the load literally taken away is nice sometimes.
“Not sure. It just sparked once, and now the light above the sink flickers. It started last night. I changed the bulb, but that didn’t seem to be of any help.
Figure I’ll just call an electrician when I get home.
For now, I put tape over the switch to remind Nana not to turn it on.
But knowing her, she’s already forgotten why the tape is there and taken it off. ”
“Is she having a memory issue?”
I roll my eyes with a shake of my head before looking back at him as we get in line. “No, just Nana being Nana. She only remembers things that are important to her, and that rarely has anything to do with the house.”
I put my stuff on the conveyor belt, and he puts his on next, then walks forward enough that I move back a few steps.
“You okay if I come over and take a look? A tripped wire, especially in the kitchen, can be pretty hazardous.”
“Total is $52.73.”
I blink at the cashier till it registers that she’s speaking to me, then pull out my wallet from my bag. But as I look back, Karter is already sliding his card into the machine.
“You don’t need to do that.”
He looks at me and gives me a small smile. One that sends my toes curling. “I know.”
He grabs our stuff, nods to the cashier, and then pushes the cart back to where it goes. All with me just walking beside him like a lost puppy.
Or maybe just a girl drooling at the sight of it all.
“Is now a good time to come by?” he asks.
He looks over at me as I walk absentmindedly to my car. He keeps step with me, and when I pop the trunk, he puts my bags in there and holds only his small one. I never said yes, but I didn’t say no either.
“Yeah, I guess so. You don’t have anything going on?”
He shakes his head.
“Need a ride?”
Another shake of his head. “Got my bike.” He gestures toward a beautiful silver and black Harley. I know nothing about motorcycles, but I can read the brands and know that Harley is one that many people buy. I can also just appreciate the way it shines in the evening’s glow.
“Okay. Um, I live off Main Street, so just follow me.”
He nods and walks to his bike to mount. He starts it up but then just looks at me till I start my car and back out. And then he follows me.
“Dear God, please don’t let this be the beginning of a bad movie,” I plead to the universe as I lead a complete stranger to my home.
I pull into the single-car driveway in front of the garage, knowing Nana is already home and Betty, as she refers to her car, is tucked into the garage for the night.
The rumble of Karter’s bike sends goose bumps along my arms, but even more so when the noise stops and he dismounts.
I manage to stop staring at him just before he catches me looking like a girl with a teenage crush.
I’m younger than him. It’s obvious. Even if I didn’t know his birthdate—because of his patient chart, not because I was stalking him—his appearance speaks of age.
There’s gray in his beard and through his thick locks, as well as wrinkles at the eyes.
But not one bit of it takes away from him.
It all makes him more distinguished. If this were December, I would be having every naughty Santa idea there is about this man.
Instead, I have to suffer through the month of April and see him in tight jeans and fitted T-shirts. No bulky suit to cover that mass of a body of his.
I pop the trunk and gather my items quickly. But not quickly enough, as he pulls the bags from my hand a second before I close the trunk.
I look at him to debate the matter, but he flashes one of those charming smiles I can’t seem to resist as he gives me a wide space to move around him to the walkway.
“After you.”
“Thank you.”
I force myself not to turn back as I lead him to the front steps. I fight the urge to check he’s still there when I unlock the door and push it open. But as I go to pull the key, which sticks, I see he’s still on the threshold, waiting for me to move inside.
“Nana, I’m home,” I call out once I open the door.
“About time. How long does it take to pick up some knobs at the hard—well, hello there.” Nana comes bustling in from down the hall and stops dead in her tracks as I shut the door behind Karter, who stepped into the foyer a moment before.
“Dear, I didn’t know they sold these at the hardware store.
Please tell me you got him for a good price. ”
“Nana!” I’m shocked by her words as she blatantly looks Karter up and down and gives him a Cheshire grin.
To his credit, the man only laughs. “She got me for a steal, ma’am.”
“He’s here to help with the kitchen light,” I explain.
Nana raises a brow at him. “You’re an electrician?”
“Nope,” he replies.
“He’s a…” How do I say this? A man I fantasize about after having to give him sponge baths, and one I spoke to more about my wants and desires than anyone else in my life, but it doesn’t fully count since he was asleep for the entirety of it? “A friend.”
“Friend?” they both ask simultaneously.
Nana’s suspicious of him. I might have told her about the man in the coma, but she has no clue it’s him standing in our foyer.
I refused to describe him to her despite her numerous attempts to force it out of me.
I didn’t want her poking fun at what I found attractive.
And I secretly wanted to keep him all to myself.
But he gives me a smile that makes my panties melt when he says it. Like he’s daring me to deny that we might be more than that. Something he’s already decided on.
“Yes,” I squeak out. Literally squeak. I cough and repeat myself, but it comes out more baritone than anything else. “Yes.”
I shake my head, and they both laugh at me softly as I look at the floor, hoping a hole will open and swallow me up. Taking a deep breath, I turn to Karter. “This way to the kitchen.” Then I’m off, leading him to the problem he came here for.
And unfortunately, Nana comes too.
“This is the light I was talking about.” I show him the one above the sink. “The switch is over there.”
“I was wondering why you put that tape on there,” Nana says as she leans against the counter on the opposite side.
This house is old. It even has a closed-off kitchen still. I would love an open concept, for the simple fact of being able to see others in the house. But per Nana, this place has charm, and we’re going to keep all of it, including the kitchen.
I’m sure someone would love to knock out the walls and give this house a modern update, but that won’t work for us.
Mostly because it’s out of our budget. We also don’t need anything fancy.
Neither of us is the type to be drawn in by clean lines and everything white.
We like color. We don’t dress like we do, both leaning toward neutral tones, but our things have color.
When Christmas comes around, we’re the house that explodes with decorations that take more than a week to put up and so many colorful lights that it can give a person Christmas overload if we aren’t careful.
“Can you show me the fuse box?”
I look at Nana, who purses her lips and moves them from side to side for a second. “Is that the silver box thing in the laundry room or the one with the switches under the stairs?”
I know what one is, but I have no clue where it is in this place.
It was never something we needed before now.
But I’m mortified that Nana is playing this game.
She’s smarter than this and probably knows exactly which one it is and where it is, but she’s just teasing.
That or checking his skill level before he starts messing around with our electricity.
Especially since he already admitted he isn’t an electrician.
Thankfully, Karter just chuckles good-naturedly. “Under the stairs it is. I’ll be right back.” He goes out of the room a moment later, knowing where the stairs are since we passed them to get to the kitchen.
I rush over to Nana and open a cabinet to pull down a few cups to busy myself.
“You don’t need to stay,” I tell her. “I can make sure he has everything he needs.”
“Oh, I bet. I’m not worried about you making sure he has everything. I’m just making sure you don’t give him everything.”
I’m confused by her words, but I can’t ask what she means because Karter walks back in.
“Turned off the power to the kitchen just to be safe.” The sun is still up, and there’s enough sunlight pouring in through the two windows behind the sink for us to not even need to turn any lights on to begin with.
“Okay. Can I get you something to drink?” I offer.
“Water is fine. Do you have any tools I can work with?”
Again I look at Nana, who rolls her eyes but at least leaves to grab what we have. Getting water for him takes less time than it does to bring our toolbox in.
“Help yourself,” Nana says as she sets it down on the kitchen table. “And only the tools.”
“Nana,” I scold her, but she simply gives me an innocent look and walks out of the room.
“Sorry about her,” I say sheepishly.
“Don’t be. She’s just worried I’ll corrupt you.”
“Corrupt?”
He lifts his head from pulling items out of the box to look me in the eye. “Take advantage of.”
I laugh at the silliness of his words, denying it with a wave of my hand. “You wouldn’t.”
He just hums as he goes about finding a screwdriver, then pulling the switch from the wall and inspecting the wiring.
“Would you?” I ask softly.
He looks up, and the grin he gives me says more than words ever could. Add in the wink and I have to grab the counter at my back to keep my knees from buckling and dropping me on my ass.
I watch him work. Ten minutes pass, and I’m still not sure what to say. I thought my little crush was one-sided. I mean, I hoped it wasn’t. After the shooting outside the hospital, I thought it might mean something, but then he left without a goodbye or a note.
“That should do it.” He leaves, then walks back in a few seconds later and turns the switch on. The kitchen lights up, not a hint of a flicker in sight. “Just a faulty connection.”
“Thank you! You just saved us a small fortune. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
“Seriously?” I’m shocked. No one asks for nothing. Ever.
“Seriously. But I should get going. It’s getting late.”
“Okay.”
I follow him out of the room, and when he opens the front door, he turns back.
“Want my number?” he asks.
“Huh?”
The warm smile that hits his lips has me sighing a bit, thankfully soft enough that he can’t hear. “To call if it goes out again. Or if you need help on the house or something.”
I bite my bottom lip, thinking it over. “You wouldn’t mind?”
Please don’t say no.
He shrugs. “Got nothing else going on. I can either destroy parts of my house or fix yours.”
“That bored?” I lean against the doorframe as I cross my arms, enjoying the easy way it is to talk to him about anything and everything. Or nothing in this case.
I take out my phone and hand it to him to put his number in.
“Remember how to use that?”
He snorts at my lame joke. “Ha, funny.” He fiddles with it for a second, and then his phone chimes.
“Did you just text yourself?”
“It’s easier if I have your number saved, too, to prevent the auto filter from thinking you’re a scam or something.”
“Right. Well, thanks again.”
“Anytime. Take care, Diana.”
I wait till I see him on the bike, then wait some more. He’s just sitting there.
“Ain’t leaving till I know you’re locked inside and safe,” he calls out.
“Oh, right.” I wave and then shut the door and lock it quickly.
Nana laughs behind me as she walks by. “Yeah, not in danger at all.”
Not sure how that’s dangerous. I just locked the door; I didn’t take out a loan from him. Was it because I did what he said? That it didn’t even take a second thought to listen and obey?
I look at my phone and see he indeed texted himself. The first thing I notice is that he put his name in as “Karter-Law Hofstadter.” Then I see what he texted himself.
Dinner tomorrow night?
Before I can even contemplate that, I get a text back from him.
Sure, pick you up at seven.
He isn’t asking. He’s telling. And that does all sorts of things for me. One being that I don’t hate it.
Still, I feel like I should reply or something. But since I have no idea what, I just send him a thumbs-up.
God, can I be any more of a dork?