The Guy Next Door

With a familiar stab of guilt over not being around much the past couple of years, he gave his dad one last pat on the shoulder. “I’m here to help with the house. Tell me what you need.”

His dad winced, looking off in the distance, wrinkles crinkling around his brown eyes. He’d aged a lot since Mom’s passing. “Been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“I saw the load of pine straw beside the house,” Luke said. “Want to spread some mulch while we talk?”

“Sure. Let me change first.”

Luke took the ladder to the garage and then located the wheelbarrow. In a few minutes, his dad reappeared in a pair of old jeans and a polo shirt—about as casual as he ever dressed. No faded T-shirts for Burt Jordan. In fact, he rarely wore jeans.

Burt grabbed a shovel and two rakes and handed one to Luke. “Had that load delivered a few weeks ago. Haven’t had a chance to spread it.”

Either that or he’d been so depressed he hadn’t felt up to going outside to work in the yard. “Let’s do it, then.”

They filled the wheelbarrow and made several trips dumping piles of pine straw around the shrubbery and flower beds, spreading it as they went.

“So are you still wanting to sell the house?” Luke asked.

“Well, the thing is…” Burt raked pine straw around an island of azalea bushes with white blooms almost past their peak. “I’ve been having second thoughts.”

Letting go of the house would be difficult, but if his dad changed his mind about selling, he probably wouldn’t consider relocating to Nashville.

Luke stopped raking and rested his arm on the handle. “Is it because of memories of Mom?”

Burt paused and stared off toward the house considering the question, as if unsure how to answer. “That’s part of it.”

He’d never seen his dad indecisive, but that probably went along with the grief. “Has something changed since you told me you wanted to downsize?”

A look of consternation drew Burt’s brows downward. “Selling the house feels so final. It closes the door to the past, and I’m not ready for that. I’d like to do something, first, that’ll be a testament to your mom, to show what Joan meant to us and to the community.”

Without warning, Luke’s throat tightened. “Any ideas?”

“Not yet, although, as active as she was, it shouldn’t be difficult. I’m sorry if I dragged you here too soon.”

“Don’t apologize,” Luke said. “I want you to make the right decision for you.” And he meant it. No matter what happened with the potential move or partnership, Luke wanted his dad to be happy.

“Life is fleeting,” Burt said. “I know I need to move on. I just don’t want to rush the process.”

Luke pushed the wheelbarrow to spread mulch around the boxwoods in front of the house. “Six months isn’t long, and selling is a big decision. I get it.”

Burt clapped him on the back. “Exactly. Noreen said you’d understand.”

Why would his dad share his doubts with Darcy’s mother before he told Luke? The families had been close for ages…but still.

Raking pine straw around the hedges, Luke covered dirt, the occasional weed and remnants of last year’s mulch. Noreen was just being supportive. She’d been a widow for a few years. Luke should thank her for being there for Burt. That was what neighbors in Appleton did. They looked out for each other.

Neighbors…Darcy. They’d always looked out for each other, too.

Stopping to wipe his brow, Burt looked around the yard. “I should start dinner soon.”

“Go ahead. I’ll finish this up.”

Burt thanked him and headed inside. In the fading light, Luke hefted one last load of pine straw into the wheelbarrow and pushed it to the opposite side of the house to spread around his mother’s rosebushes. He’d have just enough daylight to finish the job.

As he spread mulch around the fragrant plants his mother had tended as if they were her children, Luke imagined her there beside him. The sweet smell always reminded him of her. The previous week, he’d walked into the office and thought, for a split second, his mom was there. But a vase of freshly cut flowers from Roger’s wife’s garden had been the trigger.

Joan had been strong and solid, a homemaker who made her family feel loved and cared for, even as she reached out to love others. She’d been the glue that held their family together when he and his dad butted heads through his high school and early college years.

Before Joan died, she told Luke and Burt they needed to be patient with each other, needed to be more supportive. Fortunately, for the most part, he and Burt had made peace. His mother would want that, would expect it.

Luke wanted to join his dad in honoring her memory. Together they would figure out a way.

Tires on the pavement of the driveway next door drew his attention. Darcy returning from her second job?

No. Noreen’s small sedan. She climbed out of the vehicle, smiling as she headed his way.

With her long, light blond hair, no gray in sight, and the stylish way she dressed, Noreen had always looked younger than other mothers. Though now, a few slight wrinkles around her light blue eyes hinted at her age.

“Good to have you home,” she said as she hugged him. “Burt has looked forward to your visit.”

The perfume she wore smelled familiar, as if it was the same perfume his mom, her best friend, had always worn. His throat constricted, forcing him to cough to clear it. “Thanks for all you’ve done to help him the past few months.”

“I know what a struggle it is to lose a spouse. I simply pushed him to get out of the house and back to the office.”

“Whatever you’ve done has worked. He’s in a better place.”

She started to say something, but then folded her hands together, pressing them in front of her lips as if stopping herself.

“What is it?”

Shaking her head, she smiled. “Nothing at all. Have you seen Darcy yet?”

“Ran into her as I was arriving this afternoon.”

Noreen’s eyebrows drew together, and she let out a small humph. “It’s a wonder she was home at all. She’s working herself to death to pay off her student loans by a self-­imposed deadline. She has no social life.”

“I happened to catch her between the lab job and mall job.”

Noreen let out a deep sigh. “I told her she is welcome to continue living with me as long as she likes. No need to push herself so.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “She always was a little headstrong.”

“Just like her dad,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

Another vehicle pulled into the driveway. Darcy’s SUV. His stomach lurched in anticipation as if he were sixteen instead of twenty-six.

“There she is now,” Noreen said. “She works till eight again tomorrow night. Then Saturday, after working all day at the hospital, she’ll do the late shift at the mall.”

“Late shift?”