Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
She winked at me. “You certainly arrived with a bang, didn’t you?”
I gaped at her. Then, seeing the amused look on her face, I began to giggle. “That’s one way of putting it.”
She relaxed back in her chair. “I was the one who told Maxx to put an ad on that online site. I use it for lots of things—even hired kids to help out around here.” She sighed. “I told him to be specific. I had no idea how specific he was going to be.”
“I thought he was an old curmudgeon,” I admitted. “But I was desperate.”
“Did you know he thought you were a man?”
“Yes, but as I said, desperate.”
“What’s your story?”
Normally, I would brush a question like that aside, or tell a humorous rendition, the way I did to Maxx on the Friday night. But something about this woman made me feel as if I could tell her the truth. So, I did. I told her about moving to Toronto. Losing my dad. The roommate from hell. The lecherous landlord. She guffawed loudly at my antics with Terry. Frowned over Trish. Patted my hand when I spoke about my dad.
When I told her about the wallets and the money, she smiled. “Heaven looks after those in need, child. Your father was watching over you.”
“I think so too.”
“Did you tell Maxx all this?”
“Some. I glossed over a few details.”
She pursed her lips, not speaking for a moment. “You should tell him the whole story. The two of you have a lot in common.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “The, ah, Tramp?”
“Yes. She did a number on him. She and that asswipe of a friend. Billy,” she spat his name. “I never liked him. He proved me right.”
I nibbled another cookie. “I don’t think Maxx and I will get around to sharing our life stories, Mary. I don’t think he likes me that much.”
Unless he was kissing me—then he seemed to like me a lot. But I refrained from adding that statement.
She waved her hand. “He’s a good man. He was a good son, too—took care of his parents. He refused to allow his father to give him the shop, instead buying it. He knew they’d lost a lot of money, and he wanted them comfortable. He had no desire to live in that house, but he bought it too. Moved back from Lomand and took it over. Fixed it up nice, at least until that cow moved in and mucked it up.”
I thought of the house. The differences in the various rooms. Some, like the kitchen and dining room, were warm and homey. Others, stark and out of place in the setting.
“He’s been hurt and is cautious,” she added, taking another sip of tea.
“And grumpy.”
She agreed. “You’ve sent him into a tailspin, I’ll say that much. He doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going.”
“I just want to do a good job.”
“Maxx was impressed by what you had done yesterday.”
I told her about the invoices and Maxx getting annoyed over my bossiness. That made her laugh all over again.
“Oh, child, you are going to be good for him. Stay strong. He needs that.”
“What did that other woman do to him?”
She shook her head. “That’s for him to decide if he wants to tell you. I hope that he will. I think it would help both of you.”
I wasn’t sure Maxx would ever confide anything in me. He was too busy being grouchy all the time. Or telling me what to do. And, on occasion, that little voice reminded me, kissing me.
I shook my head to stop that little voice.
“Would you like to stay for supper? I have a pot roast in the oven. Maybe we can play cards after or something. I’ll drive you home later.”
I hesitated then decided I would like that. I’d left Maxx his dinner. I had worked all day. It would be nice not to eat alone in my room again.
“Sure.” I smiled at Mary. “I’d love that.”
Mary’s pot roast was amazing, and I begged her for the recipe. It would make an easy dinner one night for Maxx. She opened a bottle of wine, and we ate on the porch, enjoying the nice evening. After, she brought out a deck of cards, and we played Fish and Crazy Eights, laughing and stealing cards like old friends. She was funny and witty. Sarcastic and sharp. I learned a few more things about Maxx, his parents, and his love of motorcycles. We ate cookies and drank tea as twilight descended.
“His father was very old-fashioned. A real gentleman. He adored Maxx’s mother, and the two of them were a great couple. He believed in doing things the right way—even if they were outdated. He brought Maxx up the same way. In many ways, Maxx is just like his father.” She shook her head. “I’ve been trying to get up to update his systems and software. He resists because he understands the old ways. I think you’ll be good for him. Bring him into the twenty-first century.”