“Anyway.” Eve was clearly trying to move the conversation beyond Jake and what he had or had not told Nora, which Nora appreciated. “I heard you like baseball.”
“You did?”
She smirked. “Pro tip: Do not utter a word anywhere in this town—or wear a Tigers T-shirt to Curl Up and Dye—that you don’t want getting out.”
“There’s a group of town elders who have their noses in everything,” Sawyer said. “They tend to congregate at the hardware store.”
“Right,” Maya said. “Except they don’t really congregate at the hardware store so much as plot there. So beware of the following individuals: Karl Andersen, who owns Lakeside Hardware. Pearl Brunetta”—she pointed at Pearl’s abandoned drink. “Eiko Anzai, who’s the editor of the town newspaper. And, to a lesser extent, Art Ramsey, Jake’s dad.”
“What does that have to do with the salon, then?” Nora asked.
“I think Carol sort of reports to them,” Eve said. “Last time I got my hair done, I thought I was making idle conversation about maybe starting a little vegetable garden, but the next day Karl was on my case about it.”
“Basically, if you want your business to stay private, be very, very careful what you say in front of the elders of Moonflower Bay, regardless of location,” Maya advised.
“Anyway, baseball,” Eve said, apparently correctly intuiting that Nora’s head was spinning with all these names. “There’s a town softball league—that was my point.”
“Oh, thanks, but I’m more of an eat-nachos-while-watching-other-people-exert-themselves sort of person than I am an athlete.” Actually, though, that was another thing she was hoping to change while she was here. She needed to find a way to get some exercise into her routine.
“What about theater?” Maya asked.
“Like watching it? Sure.”
“No. Like being in it. I’m putting on a gender-swapped Death of a Salesman—so it’s gonna be Death of a Saleswoman—at the Anti-Festival this fall. You would make a great Wilhelmina Loman.”
“You mean like Death of a Salesman where it’s all grinding poverty and family dysfunction and he kills himself at the end?”
“That’s the one!” Maya trilled. “Except with a she instead of a he. And I can totally see you in it.”
Nora didn’t know how to say that there was no way on God’s green earth she was going to star in Death of a Salesman. Or -woman. But she didn’t have to answer because Maya presented her with another option. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’re into English Premier League football?”
“You mean like soccer?” Nora asked.
“Yeah. I got into it when I was doing a semester abroad in the UK. It turns out to be very dramatic. The rivalries, the arc of the season. You want to watch the next game with me? My team is Crystal Palace.”
“Back off, everyone.” Sawyer turned to her. “They’re just trying to make you feel welcome, but you don’t need to sign up now for a season of softball playing or soccer watching. What about a boat ride? A group of us heads out on the lake a couple of times a month on Law’s pontoon.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Chapter Seven
The next Friday afternoon, Jake was working on Nora’s fence when she got home. They had argued about him working on her place—inside and out—but he’d won her over with a promise to charge her market rates for it all and with the assurance that he would fit her in between existing jobs. He did not intend to keep his promise about billing her, but he was fitting her in between other jobs, which meant he worked in little stretches, often at odd times. That, plus the fact that she was putting in long hours at the clinic getting ready to open, meant he hadn’t actually seen much of her. They’d overlapped once and shared another pizza, but that had been it.
“Jake,” she said when she appeared from around front. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Mick, who had been sleeping in the sun, got up at the sound of her voice and started wiggling his butt.
“I hope you don’t mind that I let Mick out for some…Well, I was going to say exercise, but that’s not really his thing, is it?” She’d given him a key to the house so he could scope out repairs that needed doing inside, and he’d taken to letting the dog out to keep him company while he worked on the fence.
She laughed. “Of course I don’t mind. The sun and the grass are good for him. Probably a shock for an old city dog.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I have a semiawkward favor to ask.”
“Shoot.”
“My grandma’s here for a visit. She’s recovering from a bout with cancer, and she’s pretty frail. My sister and I—my sister’s here, too—have been driving her around and showing her the sights, and we took her for lunch in Bayshore. But she wants to see my house before they hit the road. I thought we’d be able to help her up the steps to the porch, but she’s in worse shape than I expected. I saw your truck in the driveway, and I was wondering if you could, like, hoist her up.”
“Of course.” He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and went hunting for his discarded T-shirt. “Let me just make myself presentable.”
“She would probably appreciate it more if you didn’t put that back on,” Nora said, smiling as he pulled his shirt over his head.
“Yeah?” he said, not quite sure how to respond.
“Let’s just say she’s not your typical little old lady. She’s been known to appreciate a hunky man-god from time to time.”
“Did you just call me a hunky man-god?”
“I didn’t call you a hunky man-god. I just said my grandmother would say you’re a hunky man-god.” She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Sheesh. Don’t get a big head.”
To his great surprise, Jake found he didn’t mind Nora teasing him.
Or thinking of him as a hunky man-god, for that matter.
He followed her around the house, whistling for Mick, who came up to trot happily alongside him. The two women out front were clearly related to Nora. The sister was a carbon copy of her—except her hair was more of a strawberry blond—and the grandmother, though she had darker coloring, had the same small, almost elfin features as her granddaughters.
“Jake, this is my sister, Erin Walsh, and my grandmother, Dr. Penelope Walsh. Grandma, Erin, this is my friend Jake Ramsey.”
“And my knight in shining armor,” her grandma said.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, Dr. Walsh.” It tickled him that she was Dr. Walsh, too. “Maybe more like your pack mule, but I’m happy to be of service either way. You ready?” She nodded and handed her purse to Nora’s sister. As gently as he could, Jake lifted her into his arms and ascended the short flight of stairs to the porch.
“I could get used to this,” the elder Dr. Walsh said, a teasing note in her voice. He set her down, and she immediately took his arm, so when Nora opened the front door, he escorted her inside.
“I noticed you got furniture,” he said to Nora. The living room was still spartan, but there was a small sofa and a side chair in it now. There was a table in the dining area, too.