Chapter 35 Avery #2
Pulling up outside her mom’s house, the gutter issue was immediately obvious and Avery kicked herself for not making it a priority before now.
With the rain already filling them to the brim at various points along the front of the house, mini cascades of water tumbled over the vinyl edges, splashing onto the stoop and cutting muddy rivers through the flower beds on either side.
They had to dodge a waterfall above the front door to even get inside.
Avery’s mom waited for them with wringing hands, dredging up turbulent memories of other times when she had been this close to spiraling.
“The damp’s going to come into the house, I know it is,” her mother said breathlessly. “Then there’ll be mold and mildew and I don’t know how to get rid of it.”
“It’s not been long enough for that.” Avery kept her voice calm, burying the worry and guilt that twisted in her stomach. “And I won’t let the gutters get this bad again.”
“We’ll take care of it, Mrs. Delgado,” Tanner added with a smile that was all radiance in the darkened kitchen.
“Maybe you could make us some coffee for when we’re done?” Avery prompted, knowing her mom would be better with something to keep her busy. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
There was a ladder out back in the shed and they gathered gloves, a bucket, and a bamboo stake—“For the bits we can’t reach easily,” suggested Tanner.
“At least it’s only this side that’s blocked,” he said as he propped the ladder up at the front of the house. “Good job there aren’t any trees at the back.”
The rain continued to pound down, water dripping from the end of Avery’s ponytail and running in rivulets beneath the collar of the shirt she’d pulled on.
Tanner’s t-shirt was saturated, his hair plastered to his head, but he chatted as if they were on their way to Diner 43 for breakfast—casual and unconcerned.
Right up until she went to climb the ladder.
“Not happening, Stretch. Move aside,” he growled.
“Absolutely not. Your doctor would kill you.”
“I’m not planning to hang by my arm.” He refused to give way. “I’m just hooking out leaves and my legs’ll take most of the strain.”
“That makes no sense,” she argued. “You hate heights and I don’t mind them. Plus if I foot the ladder with you up top, the weight balance is out of whack. It’s not as safe.”
“So who would have steadied it for you if you came on your own?” Tanner raised an eyebrow. “I can’t see your mom offering.”
He’d got her there. And he used Avery’s momentary struggle for a reply to nudge her out of the way.
“I’ve done a crate stack challenge,” Tanner muttered to himself as he climbed. “I’m a sporting god with nerves of steel. I’ve got this.”
“Is it true if you have to tell yourself you have?” Even under the circumstances, she had to smile as she handed him the bucket and positioned herself on the lowest rung of the ladder.
The muscles of his arms were corded and taut—very distracting, in fact.
But there was also a tremor in Tanner’s beefy thighs and his eyebrows formed a solid ridge.
With rain slicking his legs and muddy water running from the bend of his elbow, he began to pull great fistfuls of sodden leaves from the vinyl piping.
“Nowhere I’d rather be, Stretch.” Tanner forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Just a regular weekday evening for me. I’m always climbing ladders. The higher the better, I say.” His knuckles on the top rung were white.
Thunder rolled in the distance and Avery blinked droplets from her lashes, her stomach flip-flopping like a boat pitching on a wave, as Tanner’s outline blurred.
He could buy anything he wanted, hire anyone he needed to do a job like this.
But Tanner Stone, NHL star, was balanced at the top of a ladder in the middle of a fucking rainstorm—hating every single second of it because he was scared of heights—all because he wanted to help her.
Because he didn’t want her to have to manage alone.
Her ribs felt like they were squeezing her lungs.
“You still there?” he called down. “Just checking you haven’t gone off and left me.”
“I’m here,” Avery said and her voice was husky. “Right here. I’ve got you.”
They moved the ladder in steady increments, clearing the gutters and tipping out the waste into a pile that she could dispose of in better weather.
The collected water began to flow freely the further they went and the cascade above the front door trickled to a halt as Tanner managed to reconnect the downspout.
By the time they’d finished, there wasn’t an inch of either of them that wasn’t filthy or drenched. Mostly, they were both. It was impossible to believe they’d been playing kickball in the park just over an hour ago.
Avery’s mom had a pot of coffee ready in the kitchen once they’d cleared up, with folded towels on the chairs for them to sit on and more to wrap around their shoulders.
She beamed at Tanner like he was a visiting deity, despite the unpleasant aroma of stale debris wafting from his clothes.
Avery secretly suspected she was looking at him the same way.
And throughout the twenty minutes they sat and chatted, before the cold finally got to them both and they couldn’t stay any longer, Avery’s mom didn’t mention her father once.