Chapter Three #2
He opened the door a crack and peeked out. For a few seconds, he thought the cottage was empty, but then he heard the faint creak of the couch springs. There were no boxes piled up or bags for him to trip over.
Lucy hadn’t brought anything in from her car that he could see.
He told himself it wasn’t his problem, but maybe she needed help and didn’t feel comfortable asking him.
Or maybe she was second-guessing the wisdom of moving in with a total stranger.
He couldn’t say he’d blame her, but he’d promised Helen he’d look after her, so if push came to shove, he was going to be the one to leave.
He’d still do the work of course, because it wasn’t Helen’s fault some quarterback blew up her granddaughter’s life, but it would be seriously inconvenient.
Nick crept into the living room, not wanting to wake her if she’d decided to nap.
Driving alone from Nevada to Maine was a lot, even when it was a fun road trip, so it would probably take her a few days to bounce back.
But she lowered the book she was reading and blinked at him from her crocheted nest.
“Good book?” he asked instead of asking her why she was reading instead of dealing with the stuff in her car.
“It is.” She sat up, shoving off all but one blanket. “I decided not to unpack my car.”
“I know it’ll be a bit of a mess, having it stacked in here, but it’s more convenient than going outside every time you need something.”
“It’s not that.”
Something about the nervous way she picked at the fringe on the blanket made Nick want to sit next to her and hold that hand in his. “What’s going on?”
“I probably won’t be here long enough to make it worthwhile.”
Nick frowned, sitting in the very old and uncomfortable armchair that was the only place to sit other than on the couch with Lucy. “I thought you wanted to stay until Helen gets back.”
“I do.”
So it was about sharing the space with him, he thought. “If you’re not comfortable with me here, I can find someplace else to crash.”
She shook her head, finally looking at him. “No, that’s not it. And you’re helping Gran, so if one of us was staying somewhere else, it would be me.”
“You might want to check out some prices before you say that,” he said. “There’s a reason my brother and his kids are staying in my house and not a short-term rental.”
“You really just moved out of your home and let your brother move in?”
“He had a small fire, and his house was saved, but the water damage was a problem. He needed a place to go temporarily and the only rental available was a one-bedroom, third-floor apartment over the bank, and they wanted him to sign a one-year lease. Helen and I had talked about some work she needed done and I knew she was traveling, so I offered to do the work in exchange for staying here so Beck and the kids can stay at my place while the insurance company does its thing.”
“What are you going to do when Gran comes back?”
She probably wanted to know if he’d been intending to use the smaller bedroom, so he shrugged. “Hopefully, Beck’s going to get everything sorted and find a place, but if not, I’ll crash on the couch.”
“Or if your mother’s boyfriend isn’t a jerk,” she muttered. “And I wasn’t even couch surfing. The man has two guest bedrooms.”
Anger rose up in Nick, sharp and hot, and not entirely explainable. He barely knew this woman. But he did know that he couldn’t like a man who turned his back on a family member in crisis. And if the boyfriend was sharing a home with Lucy’s mother, she was basically family to him.
His opinion of Iris Macauley was even lower, but he swallowed it down and took a calming breath. “Okay, back to why you’re not bringing your stuff in because you don’t think you’ll be here very long, even though that’s the plan.”
She sighed, flopping back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “That girl recognized me in town, and even though you didn’t let her take a picture or anything, it’s going to get around and the whole world will find out I’m in Wayward Harbor.”
“And?”
Lucy stopped staring at the ceiling long enough to roll her eyes at him. “And people will start harassing me and also harassing everybody else to get to me, and I’ll have to go.”
“You think people are going to come all the way to Wayward Harbor to give you a hard time?”
“Trust me, Maine has Fairee fans, too.”
Nick had no idea what she was talking about. “What do fairies have to do with it?”
“No, like when fandoms combine a couple’s names. Faith and Reese? Fairee. And trust me, their fans are everywhere.” She sighed. “Maybe I should dye my hair.”
“No.” The word came out with more force than he intended, and his cheeks warmed when she gave him a questioning look.
He wasn’t about to confess to being low-key obsessed with the color of her hair, and he also hated the idea of her dying it because of some mouthy jerks on the internet.
“That stuff stains bathroom fixtures. Especially older ones.”
“Okay.”
“As for these Fairee people, they can stand in the street and carry on as much as they want, but they can’t come on this property. This is Helen’s home and you’re her granddaughter. That makes it your home, too, and nobody’s driving you out of here.”
Her smile was shaky, and Nick watched the tears gather in her eyes. She was going to cry again.
He grabbed the box of tissues off the table, intending to toss it to her. But it would have bounced off the blankets, so he had to hold it while she disentangled herself as tears ran unchecked down her cheeks.
“If you keep crying, people are going to think I’m being mean to you,” he said, using a deliberately grumbly voice to make her smile.
Thankfully, it worked and she was smiling as she dried her face. “You’re not mean. Grumpy? Yes. But not mean.”
Again with the grumpy thing. “How about I give you a hand and we can at least bring in what you need for now.”
Maybe he’d get lucky and Lucy had some sweatshirts buried in her car. Once she’d unpacked them, he’d be free to take his favorite hoodie back without feeling guilty.
“I have a big weekender bag on the back seat that’s packed with the important stuff,” she said as she pushed herself to her feet. “And I have one box of important stuff I need to bring in. But a lot of it can stay in the car so we’re not tripping over it, and I’ll go through it a bit at a time.”
“Whatever works for you,” he said, gesturing for her to lead the way. “But I really think you should take the bedroom.”
“I appreciate the chivalry, but honestly, I’m a side sleeper anyway. I’ll have an easier time on the couch. And you have to get up and go to work all day. I insist.”
“If you change your mind at some point, let me know.”
“I will, though I won’t. Trust me, you’ll barely know I’m here.”
Of course, he wasn’t even a little bit surprised when, twenty minutes later, he could barely walk through the living room because there was “oh, just one thing” in each box or bag that Lucy needed.
This was going to be fun.