Ryan smiled, knowing full well both men were equally protective of their daughter. Of all Alexia’s parents, Sheilagh was probably the most laid back of the clan.
They made several trips in and out of the house unloading boxes. Ryan left the heavier stuff for his cousin, since he often bragged about being the strongest male in the family.
Luke had always been an athlete and his body reflected his rigorous training over the years, which showed in the breadth of his shoulders and his remaining strength when it came to moving extremely heavy objects, whereas Ryan’s days of playing sports in high school had only left him with a lean body. His muscles had softened from working in the office at the lumberyard, sitting at a desk five days a week.
Maybe he should think about turning the basement into a gym. Nah, a bar would get more use.
Tristan climbed to the back of the truck and hauled the headboard and bed frame onto the driveway. Leaning the furniture against the truck, he paused to guzzle a sip of water.
“What’s going on with the house next-door?” he asked, following Ryan’s stare.
Ryan glanced at the property, noting the mismatched shed. A gray exterior wall clashed with the other three red ones, as if someone had started painting the shed and never finished.
“Don’t know. Whenever I drive by, I hardly ever see any lights on over there. But the bike moves from time to time.”
It was an old beach cruiser with a basket—the sort a woman would ride. He’d been hoping to catch her on one of his drive-bys before settlement, so he could introduce himself, but no such luck.
“No car?”
“None that I’ve noticed.”
Tristan lifted a brow. “Better hope it’s not squatters.”
“Squatters?”
“Yeah. Homeless people see an abandoned house and figure out a way in. They’ll stay until the proper authorities have them removed. Sometimes it’s impossible to get them out.”
“I don’t think Center County has a high population of homeless people.”
“Every town has homeless people, Ry. We’re all just two crises away from bankruptcy.”
“Good God, is that true?” As a new homeowner, with thirty years of debt ahead, those were not the uplifting stats he wanted to hear.
Tristan shrugged. “No one’s bulletproof.” He took the last swig of water and tossed the bottle in the empty recycling can the previous owners had left. “Just keep an eye on that house. Maybe invest in some motion sensor lights.”
Tristan carried the headboard inside, and Ryan stared at the neighbor’s yard. The house didn’t appear abandoned, just a little neglected. Maybe the owner was older and sickly. Once he settled in, he’d do the neighborly thing and knock on the door to introduce himself.
His house occupied the corner lot, putting their driveways perpendicular from each other. From his back porch, he had a clear view into their little back yard.
The knee-high lawn on the other side of the neighbor’s fence lay in snarls of wet leaves and leftover snow. The overgrown beds of dry plants needed tending. Spring was coming.
Maybe the owners were waiting for the weather to break to clean up their yard. He could offer a hand if the owner wasn’t up to the challenge. Although, they were well enough to ride a bike.
He grabbed the box spring and dragged it through the back door. The truck was unloaded within an hour. Two days ago he thought he had too much crap. Now, looking at it dumped in the middle of an empty three-bedroom house he wondered how he would ever furnish such a place.
“Well, we gotta take off. Alexia has—”
“A dance class. I know.”
Tristan flushed. “Sorry.”
Ryan laughed. “Don’t be sorry. You’re a proud dad. I’d be the same if I were in your shoes.”
Tristan gave him a knowing look. Ryan had suffered countless failed relationships, and Tristan and Luke had been there for every single fallout.
“It’ll happen for you, man.” His friend cupped a hand on his shoulder, offering an affectionate squeeze. “Not living with your mother is step one.”
Ryan threw his head back and laughed. “I’m telling her you said that.”
“I’ll deny it. Don’t try to put a wedge between me and Rosemarie. I’m her favorite.”
Ryan laughed again. “I don’t doubt it, especially with my recent abandonment. At least Pat left home to become a doctor. I have no excuse.”
“You left to find yourself. It was the right move. Your mum will get over it. She loves you too much to stay mad at you.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re a kiss ass, Tristan. It’s not that easy for the rest of us. Ryan’s got his work cut out for him. An Irish mother’s guilt can bring a grown man to his knees. You have my sympathy, Ry.”
“I have a feeling I’ll be overdosing on pizza before she forgives me.”
“Well, you know how fast word travels in this town. Eat out enough and eventually she’ll see it as a reflection on her mothering. Then she’ll send you a home-cooked meal. The women in this family are too territorial to let their sons eat someone else’s cooking for too long.”