Starting Over On Blackberry Lane. Sheila Roberts
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always hire him for however long it takes after that.”
“I hear he does roofs,” Cass said, “so I’ll be all over that.”
“I’m sure he does. It’s Dan Masters’s dad. He’s just moved here from Mexico. I talked to him on the phone yesterday and he’s really nice. I hear he’s gorgeous.”
“He is,” Cass said. “I met him when Charley and Dan got married.”
“If that’s the case, there’s bound to be a bidding frenzy,” Maddy said with a smile.
“I suspect there’ll be a bidding frenzy anyway,” Cass told her. “We’ve got two of us right here who’ll bid on a handyman.”
Maddy hung around for a while to chat, then went on her way, and Stef and Griffin settled at one of the bakery’s bistro tables with their drinks and the gingerbread boys. Cass took a moment to join them.
“I sure would like to win that handyman for a day,” Stef said. She could already see her new great room with its polished hardwood floors. All that space! Of course, what she needed would take more than a day. Maybe she’d hire him for...life. “If I could get the guy to finish some of Brad’s other projects, I wouldn’t have to murder my husband.”
“You have to stop saying stuff like that in front of us,” Cass teased her. “If anything happens to Brad, we’ll get called into court to testify.”
Stef sighed. “I know. It’s just that he makes me so mad sometimes. Why can’t he finish anything?”
“He’s a visionary,” Cass suggested. “Lots of great ideas.”
“Well, maybe he needs to envision sleeping on the couch for a while.” The weekend was around the corner and had he saved any time to work on the house? No. Friday night he was sitting in for someone at Ed Fish’s weekly poker game, Saturday was T-ball for Petey, followed by a birthday party they’d all be going to, and Sunday he’d committed them to staying after church for a potluck. Generous of him to volunteer her to bring a casserole and dessert.
“That’ll never happen,” Griffin said. “You’re too soft. He wouldn’t be on that couch longer than a couple of hours.”
“I’m done with being soft,” Stef said. “I should’ve come down on him with the first unfinished project. I’m so bidding on that handyman.”
“Me, too,” Cass warned her. “I need a new roof.”
“I may need someone, too,” Griffin said. “I’m thinking of selling my house.”
Stef nearly dropped her latte. “What?”
“With Steve gone, I’m not sure it’s practical to stay there. I talked to a Realtor this morning, and she’s coming later this afternoon to look at it and tell me what she thinks I can get.”
They’d walked all the way down here and Griffin hadn’t said a thing to her. Stef felt slightly hurt. Maybe Griffin had been afraid she’d try to talk her out of it. Maybe she would have.
“You’ll probably get more for it than you paid,” Cass said. “Real-estate values here are going up even on older homes. Where would you move?”
“I’m wondering if this might be a good time to go to New York and really pursue food photography.”
“New York? Wow, that does sound glam,” Stef said. “But do you have to go all the way to New York to do that? These days can’t you do everything over the internet? Anyway, you’re getting business right here.” Yep, this was why Griffin hadn’t said anything.
“I know. And part of me doesn’t want to leave.”
“Then don’t,” Stef urged. This was all Steve’s fault. If he hadn’t been such a loser...
“I think I could do better there. It’s where all the big business is. And if I want to get noticed, I need to relocate, at least for a while. Now, when I’m on my own, might be the time to at least try, even though it kind of scares me.”
“You know we’d all hate to see you leave,” Cass said, “but I say go for your dreams.”
“Cass is right,” Stef said. “I hate the idea of you moving, though.” She picked a cinnamon candy eye from her gingerbread boy and frowned at it.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Griffin said. “I need to see what I can get for the house first. And I need to finish up my project with Beth.”
“I hope it takes a long time.” Okay, totally selfish.
“Speaking of that, I’ve been sitting with you two for way too long. I have to get back to work,” Cass said and left them to finish their treats. Well, Stef would finish hers, anyway.
She returned the conversation to the subject of Griffin’s moving, and Griffin sighed.
“I doubt I can afford to stay here on what I’m making now, not living alone.”
“New York won’t be cheap, either.” No hidden agenda in that remark.
“No, but if I actually wind up making good money it won’t matter.”
“True. Okay, I obviously need to be a noble friend and support you. But I’d rather find you a roommate. What about a really hot guy? Or somebody rich to support you while you work on your photography.”
Griffin frowned and cocked an eyebrow. “A sugar daddy?”
“No. Someone who’ll fall madly in love with you and believe in you enough to foot the bill while you’re becoming a superstar on the internet, which is totally different from a sugar daddy.” She wasn’t sure how, but that was beside the point.
“I won’t hold my breath on that one. Anyway, I’m not ready to jump into another relationship. Even if I don’t like being by myself.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Stef admitted. “You don’t want to rush into anything and end up with someone who drives you nuts.” Gee, who could she have been thinking of when she said that?
When she got back to the house, seeing the drape hanging in the middle of her living room and knowing what was behind it didn’t exactly improve her mood. She was glad she had to work the next day. At least she wouldn’t have to be home to look at this. Brad had better pray she won that handyman in the Raise the Roof auction.
The fundraiser was the first weekend in May—not that far off. Still, living with this mess, it felt like it was a million years away. She hoped she could hang on that long.
Nenita Einhausen from Mountain Meadows Real Estate arrived at Griffin’s house promptly at three in the afternoon. She was short and slender and professionally put together in a black power suit and heels, her dark hair caught back in a ponytail to accentuate her delicate features.
Griffin, who hadn’t bothered with makeup and wore jeans and a sweater, suddenly felt dumpy. Like her house. “Thanks for coming over,” she said.
“I’m happy to,” Nenita said cheerfully and walked into the room like a woman on a mission. “This place has so much potential. If I didn’t already have a house of my own, I’d buy it in a minute.”
That was encouraging. “So you don’t think I’ll have any trouble selling it?”
Nenita shook her head. “No, we’ll find you a buyer. Hardwood floors, nice. Can I look at the kitchen?” Before Griffin could answer, she was on her way there. Griffin followed and watched as she assessed the dated appliances with a silent nod, then poked her nose out the back door. “Lovely little yard. The back porch needs some help.”
“I know. My ex was going to get around to that,” Griffin explained,