Forget Me Not. Marion Ekholm
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the men worked. It made her feel as though she’d finally managed to make a dent in all that she had to do, and she was grateful to Craig for finding people who needed all these unwanted items. Once she was ready to leave the house, she could give up the cot in the downstairs bedroom, as well.
“That’s it for now,” the reverend said. “The truck’s full.” He handed her a list of the items he’d packed away. “You can add the values for tax purposes. The church’s logo is at the top with our phone number. Call us whenever you want another pickup.”
“Will do.” Trish shook his hand and grinned. With the beds gone, along with most of the living room furniture, she had more space to move around and see the condition of the rooms.
Craig came in just then. “You won’t need a whole new roof after all. Just a section. I can give you the estimate on that now.” He handed her a printed paper with a detailed description of all the items needed practically down to the last nail, including a meticulous drawing of the roof section in three dimensions.
Trish glanced at it before looking back at him. “How’d you do this?” Had he prepared the information before coming over here and actually looking at the problem? She hadn’t heard him drive away to go print out a report. And how did she know if it was accurate?
“I inspected the roof.”
“When?”
“A few minutes ago. While you were working with Reverend Meyer.”
“How did you do all of this?” Trish waved the sheet in front of him.
Craig’s eyebrow went up, giving him a quizzical expression. “On my computer.” He nodded toward his van. “I have everything I need in there.” He grabbed the paper from her hand. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Trish followed him and waited while he slid the side door of the van open. “My office.” He stepped in and offered her a hand to pull her up onto the metal floor. “I took a picture, put that and all my figures in a program I’ve developed, and out comes what I’ll need to complete the project.”
“Craig Cadman, you invented this?”
He grinned. “Well, yeah, pretty much. I’ve taken courses in CAD...” When her eyebrows went up, he explained, “...computer-aided drafting/design, and created something that combines several programs. It’s patented, and a few other people have shown an interest. I sell it through my website, cadsbycadman.com.” He paused while she continued to stare.
“Show me what the roof looks like now.” She jumped out onto the driveway and waited for him. He hesitated before following her.
“Trish, I don’t think you should go up there.”
“I’ve been on that roof so many times. I used to help my grandfather hang all the Christmas decorations.”
“Yeah, when you were a kid.”
Ignoring him, she headed for the ladder at the front of the house and placed one foot on the bottom rung. Craig came up behind her and lifted her off.
His voice came out in a warm breath against her ear. “I’ll go up first, and you stay on the ladder. Don’t you dare go on the roof.” After releasing her, he nudged past and hurried up the rungs. Once he was on the roof, he waited until she came near the top rung. “Now you stay put.” He held out his hands, palms facing her. Craig turned and scrambled across the tiles toward the damaged area. When he looked back, she was right behind him. “I told you—”
“Oh, stop having a hissy fit. I’m not afraid of heights.”
Craig sat on his haunches and chuckled. “I should have remembered you always have to do everything your own way.” He reached out and took her hand to pull her closer before turning to indicate the section that needed repair. “It’s not too bad, and I can get it done today if you approve.”
“How did this happen?” Trish poked at several shredded shingles.
“I found bits of branches embedded. The hurricane must have torn some limbs from one of the trees and shot them against the roof.”
“Definitely start on this as soon as possible.” After taking a seat next to him, she focused on the maple trees that lined the street. All the leaves had dropped, been raked into the street and carted away. She stretched out her legs and leaned back on her elbows, duplicating Craig’s stance. “I can see all the houses from here, and you’re right. Just about everyone’s put out their flags. It reminds me of Fourth of July. Remember marching in the parades?”
“Yep. Happy times.”
Trish pointed to an empty area on one of the corners. “Didn’t Mr. Flurry have a house there?”
“It was damaged during a fire. I was hired to demolish it.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. Luckily Mr. Flurry and his wife were on vacation at the time.”
She remembered Mr. Flurry, not exactly the nicest man around. “The people who bought my parents’ old house did some major additions, totally destroyed the cookie-cutter image of all those Cape Cod houses built after World War II. Have you made any changes to your place?”
“No. We don’t own it anymore. Not since my father died.”
Trish turned to him, wondering if she should pry. Why not? They’d always been able to talk to each other. “What happened?”
He cleared his throat. “Long story.”
“If you’d rather not...”
“No. It’s okay. Just don’t know where to begin.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “My father had problems, getting tired and unable to work a full shift. Mom forced him to go to the doctor. He needed a bypass.” Craig took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He didn’t make it, and his hospital bills were staggering.”
“Where do you and your mother live now?”
Craig sat back and relaxed next to her. “She and Noah moved in with her sister, that blue cookie-cutter house over there next to Mr. Flurry’s vacant lot.” He pointed to a house not too far from where Trish had lived. “My aunt Jenny didn’t have enough room for all of us, so I took an apartment near the lumberyard.”
Trish remembered his aunt, a pleasant woman who always had a full cookie jar. But the other name... “Who’s Noah?”
“My brother.”
Trish sat up with a start and stared, leaning toward him. “Your brother?”
Craig grasped her arm. “Watch it. We’re a good forty feet above the ground, and I don’t want to scrape you off the sidewalk.”
She slid over until they were hip to hip. “How did you get a brother?”
With a chuckle, Craig placed his arm around her shoulders and held on to her. “How do you think? Do I have to explain about the birds and the bees?”
Trish rolled her eyes and leaned against him. “I’ve got a good idea. However, wasn’t your mother a little old to be adding to your family?”
“Forty-three. And it wasn’t planned.”
“Obviously a welcomed surprise.” The two shared another laugh.
“So, Trish, where do you live?” he asked, not releasing her. His arm around her felt comfortable and something else...safe.
“In Queens, just a short subway trip to my job in Manhattan.”
“You planning to stay in Queens once you’re married?” Craig was staring out across the street.
“No. I have a lovely studio apartment, but it’s too small. Harrison has an older condo on the Palisades in New Jersey, overlooking the Hudson. Once he sells it, we’re hoping to combine our funds and get something closer to the city.” Trish concentrated