“That would be good.” He lowered the hatch door as she maneuvered the cart out of the way. Should he back off now? But he hadn’t gotten her out of his head in the five—no, almost six—weeks since he’d seen her, and he didn’t like that she hadn’t mentioned anything she was up to. Lottie, he thought, had been a diversion.
So, ask.
“You doing any more work on the house?”
She wrinkled her nose in that familiar way. “Not really. I’ve pretty much finished painting—yes, ceilings, too, which was an awful job—but I haven’t done anything about the moldings or the floors.” She hesitated, looking shy. “I’ve actually started a part-time job. Not so much for the money, just…to get me out. I’m clerking and helping with reference questions at the library. Only about half-time so far, but I feel useful.”
Even as he smiled and said something that must have been close to right, Cole felt things he didn’t totally recognize. Jealousy—but not quite. All he knew was that he wanted her to take those steps, but he hated that she’d done it all on her own. He’d have liked to hear about the jobs she’d applied for and why, her hesitations and hopes. He could’ve told her about his days, too—the occasional frustrations, the awkward attempts to make friends, his apprehension about possibly being laid off when the weather turned.
But his basic fears remained. He didn’t let himself ask whether she’d kept her promise to him. He didn’t say the words I miss you.
And he didn’t want to know if someone else was living in his apartment.
“Guess we’re both…” Cole paused, not sure how to finish what he’d started. Doing okay?
But Erin said, “Moving on?” This smile was definitely fake. “You’re right. We are. It was good to see you, Cole, but I’d better be getting home.”
When she reached for the cart, he took it from her. “I’ll take care of this. See you around.”
He had a softball-sized lump in his throat as he pushed the cart toward the closest return lane.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, Cole made a point of getting to work fifteen minutes early. Tom Phillips’s truck was already parked outside the office trailer. Cole knocked lightly and stepped in.
Alone inside, Phillips sat scowling behind a computer. He looked up in surprise. “Meacham.” He rocked back in his chair, the frown lingering. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to take a couple hours off sometime in the next week or so.”
“Family?”
“No. I told you I want to take some classes at the community college.” At the other man’s nod, he said, “I’m way past the application deadline for fall quarter. I can’t figure out from the website when I’d have to apply for winter quarter. I need to sit down with an admissions officer and start the ball rolling.”
“You might be able to appeal and still get in for fall.”
“That’s my hope.” He smiled wryly. “I was out before the May deadline, but I didn’t have tuition money or transportation yet. That was a little too far ahead for me to plan.”
Phillips grimaced in apparent sympathy. “You have a good excuse.”
“A new and improved form of ‘the dog ate my homework’?”
He laughed outright, then said, “Just give me some notice of when you’ll be gone.” Then, humor absent, Phillips said, “You aiming for full-time?”
Cole shook his head. “An evening class or two. I need to work.”
“Fair enough.”
Should he ask about winter layoffs? The possibility had been preying on his mind, but this was too early to say anything, Cole decided. He should be grateful if Phillips just gave him a good recommendation if he laid him off.
Before he could leave, the boss said, “Since you’re here, anyway, let’s talk for a minute. Have a seat.”
Oh, shit. He managed a nod and lowered his butt onto a straight-backed chair.
“Been meaning to tell you how happy I am with your work.”
That was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re probably aware I downsize my crews over the winter.”