The Husband Project

The microwave stopped groaning and pinged. Yes, he definitely smelled oregano and garlic.

“I assume you’re hungry?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Sit.”

He sat. She placed silverware and a napkin in front of him, then uncovered a plate piled high with lasagna and meatballs.

“You’re kidding me.”

“What? You don’t like Italian food?”

“It’s not that. It’s...the best thing I’ve seen in weeks.” Since a plate of pasticho in Brazil, but he’d been in too much pain to really enjoy that meal.

“I made coffee.”

“How did you do all this so fast?”

“I’m a mother. I’m efficient. I had Kim—the babysitter—bring over a plate of leftovers.” She shot him a quick smile. “And you take very, very long showers.”

He picked up his fork and tasted heaven, Italian style. Meanwhile Lucia Swallow shrugged on her jacket, which she’d hung by the back door, wound a striped scarf around her neck, tugged on her thick suede boots and pointed to a piece of paper stuck by a flower-shaped magnet to the refrigerator. “Jerry left you a list of contacts, including someone who’ll deliver firewood.”

He nodded, his mouth full of pasta.

“You’re welcome to our wood until you get your own. I’ll have the boys stack some by the back door for the morning.”

He swallowed and attempted to thank her, but before he could get the words out, she was gone.

Thank goodness.

* * *

“WAIT A MINUTE, say that once more?”

“He told me I smelled like alcohol and my kids were hellions.” Lucia laughed again just thinking about it. Curled up on her couch with three children, a dog and four bowls of popcorn, she was ready to talk over the afternoon with Meg. Her best friend had had little free time for phone calls lately, so this was a luxury.

“And you said?”

“Well, I told him I’d been to a bridal shower.”

“Seriously, Lucia, you are too nice.” It didn’t sound like a compliment, and since Lucia had heard that description of herself before, she didn’t take it as one.

“I know. I should have lost my temper and hit him with a piece of red fir. I was rude to him, though.”

“Lucia, sweetie, you couldn’t be rude if you tried.”

“Wait until you meet him. He’s hurt, so I get the ‘injured male’ frustration, but he won’t exactly fit in around here. I mean, he’s got major attitude happening.” She moved a popcorn bowl away from Boo’s sneaky nose.

“What does he look like? How old is he? Did he really look sick?”

“He’s handsome, late thirties, early forties, maybe. And he really did look as if he was in pain. I felt bad about that. You should have seen him, a body in the snow, with the kids jumping around and Kim taking pictures with her phone.” Now Lucia’s boys were entranced with a movie about a reindeer, one of their very favorites. The kids seemed like little angels, but she knew better.

“Handsome,” Meg repeated. “I knew I should have come home with you.”

“My life needs some excitement. I wonder how he got here?”

“Have Mike interview him for the new arrivals section.”

“There is no new arrivals section,” Lucia pointed out.

“He could make one up, just so we’d know who this guy is. Remember a couple of years ago? The man with the snowmobile?”

“The one who was hiding from the mob?”

“He had no credit history. And he wasn’t very friendly.”

Lucia lowered her voice. “I don’t want some mobster hiding out next door, but this guy doesn’t even seem like he knows what he’s doing here.”

“Jerry will know. He gets back tomorrow. I’m going to email him now. Have you done a Google search on the guy?”

“I will later. I’m going to frost another batch of cookies as soon as I hang up.”

“Can I come over?”

“Of course—if you want to watch Rudolph again.”

“Maybe not.” She paused. “I loved my party.”

“I know.”

“I loved all my gifts, even the frog sponge holder. Especially the frog sponge holder. I don’t know how you find things like that.”

Lucia climbed off the couch and retrieved the empty popcorn bowls. “It takes talent to be tacky.”

“It’s a real gift,” Meg agreed. “You’re a thrift shop queen.”

“No, I’m a boozed-up bad mother with a vicious dog.”

Meg’s howl of laughter rang through the phone loud and clear. “If he only knew.”

“I do feel bad about the kids knocking him down.”

“They’re too little to knock anyone down. I don’t believe it.”

“Well, the snow was slippery. Davey said the man lost his balance, and Boo didn’t help.”

“Stay away from him,” Meg said. “At least until Owen gets back and can check him out.”