9. Lucy
nine
Lucy
How is it possible that Nate Walker lives in the cutest house I’ve ever seen?
If it weren’t for his very recognizable SUV in the driveway, I’d be sure that I had the wrong address.
I don’t watch HGTV, so I don’t know whether it’s Craftsman, Victorian, Tudor, or another style. All I know is I love it.
It’s two stories, has green siding with a black roof, and a massive front porch—the kind that’s begging for a porch swing and some rocking chairs.
It’s the perfect mix of old and new. Old, detailed, carved trim pieces along the roofline and around the windows.
New, stained-wood shutters and porch posts.
Old, wrought iron light fixtures, burning brightly in the pre-dawn gray light.
New stained-wood front door with narrow, paned windows on either side.
And it’s right in the middle of town—like walking distance from the coffeehouse and the bakery. Not quite as close as my apartment, but it can’t be perfect.
I roll out of my little Camry, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and lock the doors with the remote as I climb the porch steps.
I raise my fist to knock on the doorframe, but freeze as I see Nate walking into the foyer through the window set into the top half of the door.
He pulls the door open, and I flash a closed-mouth grin as the awkwardness of the situation sets in.
I’m about to spend more than twenty-four hours at Nate Walker’s house.
“Nathaniel.”
“Lucinda.”
He flashes a crooked smirk, scratching the back of his head as he steps aside and lets me in.
I take a moment to check on him while he’s avoiding my gaze.
He’s clean-shaven again. His hair is styled in his haphazard-on-purpose look.
The dark circles under his eyes seem lighter, but he still has the look of a man haunted by things he can’t change.
He closes the door behind me, and we stand in the foyer for an uncomfortable moment.
A staircase with a beautifully carved railing stands to the right of the foyer, facing the center of the room.
I would guess that the short door with a slanted top beyond it is a closet.
There’s dark woodwork on the lower half of the walls in the small entryway and faded yellow plaid wallpaper on the top half of the walls, broken up by two other doorways.
I clear my throat. “Your house is so cute. How long have you lived here?”
He looks around the foyer like he’s noticing the place for the first time. “Thanks. I bought it about three years ago, and I’ve been slowly working through a list of remodel projects on my days off. The inside is still a work-in-progress, but it has a lot of potential.”
He tucks his hands into the pockets of his navy tactical pants. His gaze swings back to me, and he tilts his head, gesturing toward the rest of the house. “Let me show you around before I head out.”
I nod, and he begins his tour. “This house was a little bit of a mystery to the realtor and home inspector. It was built in 1901, but it has elements from different architectural styles. We finally decided it started as a foursquare house plan with several Victorian features. But it has been remodeled so often that a lot of the original design elements are hidden under layers of paint or wallpaper.”
He opens a baby gate in the doorway to the left and gestures for me to go through it ahead of him into a long living room with high ceilings, a large bay window facing the street, and what appears to be a fireplace that’s been bricked closed in the corner of the room.
My brows scrunch, and he chuckles. “Yeah. I have no idea why they closed up the fireplace like that. It’s on the list of things to fix.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear and nod. “Good. I think it could be gorgeous, and I love that window.”
He smiles and crosses his arms. “Me too. It was one of the first things I loved about the house. There’s another one in the bedroom above this.” He shrugs. “There are a lot of little details throughout the house that sold me on the project.”
His furniture is simple. A black faux leather couch and matching chair—probably something he bought online and put together himself, but the house makes up for the plain furniture.
Ornate crown molding around the ceiling catches my gaze, and I notice the elaborately carved trim pieces around each of the windows.
“What improvements have you already made?”
“The first thing I did was rewire the entire house.”
I smirk and nod. “Well, yeah. Got to eliminate those fire hazards.”
His eyes meet mine, alert with humor, and he shakes his head. “I’d lose all my street cred as a firefighter if my own house went up in flames.”
I shake my head, and he gestures through the wide doorway with a tilt of his head, opening another baby gate and leading me into the dining room with a small square table sitting in the center.
“I had the roof repaired, replaced the exterior doors and the porch posts, and refinished the floors. I painted the exterior back in the fall. I was going to start work on the kitchen, but ended up having to replace some plumbing. So, I had to put that project on hold for a bit.”
He leads me through a narrow doorway into the kitchen and immediately starts pointing out things he plans to change. “I’d like to do all new cabinets; these are past ‘vintage’ and need to be replaced. I’m dying to tear up this linoleum and see what’s under it. I’d like to put in new countertops…”
But I can’t focus on the dark wood cabinets, the busy wallpaper, or the checkered linoleum.
The window above the sink has my full attention.
It’s twice as wide as the sink and extends from the countertop to about a foot below the ceiling, with an ornate carved-wood frame.
And it’s stained glass. It has the most beautiful pink roses and green vines around the edges, and the center is an alternating pattern of frosted and clear diamonds.
“I’m going to replace the window, too.”
My eyes widen. “Don’t you dare.”
His brows rise. “It’s pink, Luce.”
My shoulders droop as I realize I can’t tell him what to do. It’s not my kitchen. “But it’s so pretty.”
He chuckles. “It bodes well that you like stained glass.”
I frown, and he shakes his head. “I’ll show you in a minute.”
He opens a few of the cabinets and shows me where all of Quinn’s things are. He even took the time to write out her typical schedule before I got here and taped it to the fridge for me.
When he’s finished with the kitchen portion of the tour, he leads me up the stairs.
The staircase forms a U-shape, with two landings featuring tall windows before opening into a hallway on the second floor.
The doors in the hallway aren’t the simple flat doors that I have in my apartment.
These doors have five small rectangles set into them, but they look like they’ve been painted at least a dozen times.
He points to the door across from the steps. “That’s Quinn’s room, but I’m still working on it, so,” he points to a door down the hall, “she’s staying in a portable crib in my room for now.”
“What are you doing in her room?”
He takes a couple of steps to the door and swings it open, revealing a room covered in tarps and painter’s tape.
A strong chemical smell assaults my nose from the hallway, and I have to resist the urge to cough as I step inside the room.
He points to the crown molding around the ceiling.
“I stripped the paint off all the woodwork. I’m going to stain and seal it.
I’m getting rid of this wallpaper and painting the walls pink for her.
Then, I’m going to remove the doors so I can strip and refinish them.
I’ve moved some of her furniture over from Vi and Landon’s, but I’m trying to finish her room before I move it all. ”
He clears his throat and scratches the back of his head. I let my gaze wander around the room to hide my frown at Nate’s nervous tell. Is he worried about my opinion of the room? I tilt my head, trying to see past the tarps and wallpapered walls to envision everything he has planned.
I turn back to him with a nod. “I think it’ll be beautiful when you’re finished.”
A small smile lifts the corner of his mouth, and his shoulders drop with his exhale. “Thanks.” He tilts his head toward the hallway. “I’ll show you where you can stay.”
I smirk and tease him. “I get my very own room? I thought you’d pull a Vernon Dursley and put me in the closet under the stairs.”
He chuckles as he leads the way back into the hallway and stops in front of the door beside the stairs. “I think I can do a little better than that. I do owe you for helping me out like this.”
I roll my eyes as he opens the door. “You don’t owe me. I’m excited to babysit Quinn. I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”
He shakes his head and steps inside the bedroom. “I’m not finished in here, but it’s livable for now. Don’t be surprised if you come in one day and the walls are a different color.”
I chuckle and set a hand on the wall closest to me. “You mean you don’t like this burnt orange color? Surprising.”
His shoulders slump. “Please don’t tell me you like it.”
I shake my head. “It’s not my favorite. It’s a little too… orange for me.”
He laughs and nods. “Good. Me too.”
I scan the room, appreciating the bay window, twin to the one in the living room, overlooking the sidewalk and the quiet street in front of the house.
I notice the bed and small dresser and smile.
Something in my chest warms at the thought of Nate taking the time to get this room ready for me.
“Thanks for setting this up. I didn’t expect to have my own room here. ”
He frowns. “Did you think I’d roll out a sleeping bag and wish you luck?”
I shrug. “I figured I’d cuddle up on the couch.”
His brows rise. “Did you see the couch?”
I chuckle. “Yes, I did, and I’m very grateful for the bed. Thank you, Nate.”
He scratches the back of his head and shrugs. “No problem.”
We step back into the hallway, and I follow him to the other end with three doors we haven’t opened yet.
He points to the door on the left. “That’s my room.
Quinn’s in there sleeping. She doesn’t usually wake up until after seven.
” He points to the door on the right. “That’s a small bedroom that I’m using for tool storage between projects.
” Finally, he opens the door in the middle.
“This is the bathroom, and the reason I’m glad you liked the stained glass in the kitchen. ”
I notice the small black-and-white hexagon tiles on the floor, the white subway-tiled shower with transparent glass walls, and the dark-wood vanity with a white marble top.
But the large clawfoot tub on the far wall and the wide stained-glass windows behind it completely steal the show in the bathroom.
The set of three windows is as wide as the tub and taller than Nate’s six-foot-something.
Each has an identical blue glass frame in different shades that almost looks floral, with alternating blue and frosted diamond shapes at the centers.
I feel my jaw drop as I take it in, and Nate chuckles. “I’m guessing you like it.”
I close my mouth, blink myself out of my stupor, and nod.
He shakes his head, still laughing softly. “I had no idea you liked stained glass.”
I tilt my head. “To be fair, I didn’t either until this morning.” With a frown, I ask, “Are you keeping this window?”
He sighs and nods. “Yeah. I’ve already remodeled this bathroom. It’s the plumbing project I was talking about that set me back on starting the kitchen.”
“So, what made you keep this window?”
He rolls his eyes. “My mom. She was nearly in tears when I told her I was planning to replace it.”
I smile and nod. “I knew Kathryn had good taste.”
He shakes his head and chuckles. “Yeah, the two of you are cut from the same cloth.”
“Did you mean to give me a compliment?”
He shrugs and scratches the back of his head.
He’s saved from answering me by Quinn calling out from his room, which we hear next door and over the monitor clipped to his belt.
His eyes widen, and he blows out a long breath as he checks his watch.
“I meant to be gone before she woke up. I thought it might be easier if she didn’t notice me leaving. ”
I nod. “Go ahead and sneak out. I’ve got her.”
His eyes roam my face. “You’re sure?”
I raise a brow. “If you’re not confident in my ability to take care of Quinn, why am I here?”
He sighs. “You’re right. My bad. You’ve got this.”
He steps into the hall and pauses, turning back to me. “Can I have your car keys?”
I frown as he hands me the monitor. “Why?”
“So I can install the extra car seat in your car.”
“If you’re in a rush, I can do it, or you can do it when you get back tomorrow, and we’ll stay put today.”
He shakes his head before I finish speaking. “Nope. I need to install it myself, and you need to have it in case of an emergency.”
My eyes narrow. “I can install a car seat, Nate.”
He blows out a long breath. “I know you can, but I need to do it myself.”
He averts his gaze and rolls his shoulders. And I feel like an idiot. Of course, he wants to do it himself. Losing his sister and brother-in-law in a wreck is too fresh for him to risk losing someone else in a similar situation because of an improperly installed car seat.
I swallow and pull my keys from my pocket, holding them out for him. “Right. Sorry.”
He nods, takes the keys, and walks to the stairs as he calls over his shoulder, “I’ll put them on the hook by the front door when I’m finished.”
I stand frozen outside his bedroom door, where Quinn is singing her own melody, silently praying that God will continue to heal Nate and comfort him as he tries to build a new life for Quinn. I also thank Him for the door He opened for me, even if babysitting Quinn is a temporary fix.