A New Hope (Thunder Point #8)(44)

“You can. Or...I think I’ll go to the shop and make sure everything is right for tomorrow morning. I’ll be over there already.”

So, back to town she went. There wasn’t a lot to do in the shop, though the Saturday rush for the wedding had left it a little messy. The arch was standing in the alley beside the back door, as promised, and had to be dismantled and put away. There was the usual sweeping and wiping down to do. She listened to the work cell, but there were only congratulatory messages for Grace and no orders.

She looked at her own cell phone several times, wondering why Matt wasn’t calling. There was a kernel of fear in her. She couldn’t wait any longer. She texted him. Are you home safely?

Then she stared at the phone, waiting. He didn’t reply. If she didn’t hear from him soon, she would call Peyton. In the meantime, she began to tidy the back room and office. The phone that a couple of months ago she didn’t even care to recharge was now in her pocket. She was waiting for it to chime or ring. And she hated that!

She went from tidying and wiping to scrubbing, putting a lot of muscle into it, making that scarred old worktable shine. Waiting. It brought to mind how she waited to hear from Mick, to hear he was nearby and could see her or out of town on some gig but thinking of her. Waiting for his affection, waiting for him to come to bed in the wee hours, waiting, always waiting for some affirmation from him. Didn’t he feel horrible about leaving her alone and pregnant? Didn’t he want to at least discuss the divorce? Make a compromise? Didn’t he wonder how she was getting along? Wonder about the baby? She almost reached out to him ten thousand times and it took a will of iron not to but she could remember the agony of that waiting so clearly, it might’ve been yesterday. And had that agony ever touched him? Not in the slightest way. This next song is going to be it, babe, it’s going to push me to the top.

Her phone chimed, and she pulled it out. Twenty-five minutes had passed when Matt responded. Safe and sound.

She waited, staring at the phone screen. Was there nothing more? No, talk to you later? Hope you weren’t worried? Had a good time last night?

Nothing.

She felt her eyes well with tears and told herself to stop! She couldn’t be that woman again, that woman in love and desperate to have her passions returned. She couldn’t cry for attention from a man, hoping he’d call, hoping he’d notice, hoping he’d care. It was too painful, living in a one-sided relationship.

She turned off her phone. She blew her nose.

It wasn’t long before Troy arrived, knocked on the locked back door of the shop and then took Ginger upstairs. It was such a darling little apartment. One room, really, the bedroom separated from the living room by an arch. There was plenty of room for one person, a large bathroom, the linen closet, which held a stacked washer and dryer along with shelves, a galley kitchen with a few cupboards and a table for two. But there was a regular-size sectional and wall unit holding a TV. The bed was queen-size and there was a wall unit of drawers and closet space.

“This is adorable,” she told Troy.

He was busy moving around the little apartment, checking the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen. “Well, I should have known. My mother wouldn’t leave a speck of dust behind.” He flipped open the lid of the washer. “I guess this means you even have clean sheets on the bed. I’ll run this load of sheets, make sure the bathroom is clean and—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” she said. “I’ll take care of that. I know you have your own apartment to clean up. Didn’t I hear you say you’re taking the living room furniture for your game room in the new house?”

“There will be no games in the game room,” he said. “That will be our living room. It’s a good apartment for us.”

“What do you need from here?” Ginger asked.

“I think Grace took everything we could use when we moved to Winnie’s house. I cleaned out the fridge before my folks came and since we don’t have our own kitchen, Grace left some kitchen things here. I’m going to move out of my place this week now that I don’t need the space for family.”

“This is very thoughtful of you and Grace,” Ginger said. “And if you ever have family coming to town, just say the word. I always have space at Ray Anne’s house. I can give you back this guest room whenever you need it.”

“Thanks, we’ll try not to impose,” he said. “I guess you can have it whenever you want. And here’s the key.”

“Is there anything else here you want to take with you?”

“Grace moved all her personal things out early last week. Everything left here is for your use. You shouldn’t need too much.” He picked up the container of laundry detergent and gave it a shake. “You only have a couple more loads in this,” he said.

“You are a very good landlord,” she told him with a smile.

“I imagine you’ll be a perfect tenant.” He looked around. “She was really smart to do this, wasn’t she? Right over the store and all.”

“She was smart about everything.”

“I thought I’d have to do some cleaning but there are even vacuum tracks. It’s all yours—move in whenever you want. I’m going back out to the beach to see if I can get Cooper to help me move. With his truck.” He grinned.

“And I’ll walk back to Ray Anne’s and give her the good news—she can have her life back.”