His surprise always gave her a funny feeling in her chest. He didn’t expect anything good, even a gift of cookies.
“All of them?” he said. “Aren’t you eating any?”
Erin made a face. “Already did. And don’t worry, I saved some for myself. I used Nanna’s recipe.” And tripled it. “I’d forgotten how sinfully delicious these are.”
While he ate his sandwich, he said, “I thought you were going to paint again today.”
“I did both.” She managed a pert smile. “Thanks to my extrawarm pillow, I slept better than usual.”
He chuckled. Whether that was any more genuine than her smile, Erin couldn’t tell.
He finished his own sandwich, then ate three cookies before groaning and putting the lid back on the container. “I won’t be able to bend over if I don’t stop.”
Now that she knew what his stomach looked like under his T-shirt—washboard-hard, rippling with muscle—a snort came naturally. “Yeah, right.”
He smiled, thanked her and took his container of cookies up to his apartment before going back across the street.
Erin waited until he was out of sight to “go calling,” a Nanna way of saying she was going to drop in on neighbors.
* * *
“YOUR GRANDMOTHER’S PLACE looks fine. Just fine. Josephine would be real pleased if she could see it,” Del Wagner told her. “You’ve done a heck of a job.”
Perfect setup. She smiled over her coffee cup. “I wish I could claim credit, but I think most of it goes to the guy renting the apartment from me. Cole Meacham. He did the majority of the work. In fact, he’s building a wheelchair ramp for the Zatlokas right now.”
“Nice fella,” Del said with a nod. “Insisted on pulling my garbage can to the street a couple of weeks ago.”
Someday, she’d have to march into the hardware store in town and tell that manager what an idiot he’d been.
“Cole is like that,” she agreed. “He’s the one who found Mr. Zatloka after he collapsed.”
Del then got distracted telling her about his wife’s stroke, which had led months later to her death, but eventually asked, “You think this Cole fella is interested in any more jobs?”
After assuring him that she believed Cole would be finished at the Zatlokas’ any day and likely open to taking on another job, Erin began the slow process of extricating herself from this elderly neighbor’s house. She really hoped he’d talk to Cole—for his own sake as well as Cole’s. She’d climbed his front porch steps gingerly, not liking the way they felt underfoot. His porch wasn’t as high as hers, but she could withstand a fall better than a man his age. A broken hip might well mean the end of his independence.
She’d intended to go to the Cooks’ next, but after drinking a cup of coffee at each of four neighbors’ houses, she desperately needed a stop at home. Nanna would have disapproved of her asking to use anyone’s bathroom.
Once she was home, she decided she’d done enough for one day. Except maybe she’d go introduce herself to Ryan’s wife. Mikayla…no. Michelle. It was only polite to offer cookies as a thank-you for Ryan’s help, right?
Plump, pretty and a good five inches shorter than Erin, Michelle seemed almost as happy to invite her in as Del Wagner had been.
“A grown-up!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been playing the Disney Princess Enchanted Cupcake Party game. I kid you not,” she added, seeing Erin’s expression. “Your turn will come.”
That stung a bit, since she had trouble imagining herself with a family, but she laughed, as expected.
Five-year-old Gracie didn’t seem to mind Mommy quitting midgame, not when she was allowed to watch a movie while her mother visited with the neighbor.
“She looks like you,” Erin said, awed by the sparkly pink-and-purple getup the little girl wore.
“Except for the red hair.”
“Which she couldn’t possibly have gotten from her dad, since he has brown hair,” Erin said with a straight face.
Michelle laughed. “He tried that on you, huh?”
“I told him I’m a blonde.”
“Instead of a strawberry blonde?” The other woman gave an exaggerated scowl. “Argh, Gracie’s favorite doll is Strawberry Shortcake. I must have cakes on the brain.”