I looked at the new structure. It was going to be awesome when finished. The company I had hired had poured the footings for the cedar columns and new framework, as well as completing the installation for the heavy wood columns. Now, I was almost done with the rest of the framing. Once that was complete, I could work on the deck boards, then move on to the extension on the other side of the house.
I headed inside, my day planned. I would grill something easy on the barbecue later and tonight work on the supply list I would need to start the next project—the extension. I still needed to find an architect to draw up the needed plans, and I decided I would make that the next priority.
I nodded, satisfied, as I stepped into the shower. I had lots to keep me busy—right up until midnight. I wouldn’t visit Ava tonight. I wouldn’t see her for a few days. Break the pattern.
It was a good, solid plan. It just didn’t work.
* * *
I never made it into town. Instead, I threw myself into work, and I got a lot accomplished in the afternoon. I finished framing the deck and rebuilt the steps. I worked late into the evening until the light began to fade and my body was exhausted. Dinner ended up being a sandwich eaten over the sink and drinking the milk straight from the container. I needed a trip to the grocery store, which I planned on doing in the morning. The rest of the evening was spent in pursuit of mindless endeavors. None of which accomplished what I wanted—which was to stop the nagging desire to head over to Ava’s. I glanced through some magazines, not really seeing the pages. I sorted through some drawers in the kitchen, tossing out most of the junk inside them. I paced and tried a couple of shots of whiskey to help calm the nerves that suddenly seemed to be on the outside of my body, taut and exposed. Flipped through the few TV channels available, thinking I needed to upgrade the TV and the Wi-Fi here. I played music but somehow had no desire to dance. I looked at the clock, convinced it had to be after midnight, shocked to find it was only ten. I gave up and went to bed, planning on sleeping hard and getting up early.
I spent the night tossing and turning. Pulling the pillow Ava had slept on close to my face and catching the faint whiff of her perfume. Wondering if she was sleeping. Contemplating what she would do if I showed up at three a.m. and climbed into bed with her. I moved to the sofa, thinking it would be better. It wasn’t. Eventually I drifted, but my sleep was far from restful.
In the morning, I went to the town hall and spoke with Milly, asking if she could recommend a local architect.
“Mr. Shuman is retired but still does some work,” she replied, pursing her lips. “I’ll give you his number. He tends to be hard to get a hold of since retiring, though.”
“Anyone else?” I asked.
“Not local. But I can give you the number of a couple of places. One is in Mississauga and one in St. Catharines. Of course, there are others, but I know these names off the top of my head.” She paused. “Ava Callaghan’s brother is an architect. A very good one.”
I smiled grimly. “Yes, I was told that.”
I accepted the paper gratefully. In my truck, my stomach growled, and I headed to the diner, deciding breakfast out would be good. Then I would do my errands and head back to the house and work on the deck. The weather was perfect to be outside. Not too hot, with a light breeze. It made the grueling task of handling the big project on my own easier when I wasn’t sweating and having to stop every few moments to wipe my head or get a drink. I parked my truck and began to head inside when I saw her.
Ava was at a booth, sitting by the window. She had a file open, a cup of coffee in one hand. Her hair was down, brushed to one side, the deep sable color glinting with the purple streaks in the sun. She wasn’t looking at the file, though, but staring into space. She looked…dejected. I stopped, simply staring, then before I could help myself, tapped on the window.
She glanced up, startled, a smile clearing away the sadness. She lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head in a silent invitation, and I was powerless to refuse it. I headed inside and, without thinking, slid into the booth beside her. It was natural to press my mouth to her cheek, remembering where we were.