The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(67)



“Hold up, Emmy. Don’t come in here.” Steffi finished wedging the insulation between the studs before climbing down from the ladder. “The fiberglass can irritate your eyes, skin, and throat.”

“It looks fluffy.” Emmy inched closer, fingers outstretched to touch the deceptive pink batt. She glanced up at Steffi’s stern glare and whipped her hands behind her back. “Can I help you stuff it into the walls?”

Steffi studied the remaining wall—half wall, really—running beneath the windows. She supposed she could supervise Emmy without losing too much time.

“Go put on pants, long sleeves, and gloves. You’ll need eye protection, too.” Steffi’s would be too large.

“Okay,” she called, already running toward the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

Steffi chuckled to herself.

“You have a nice way with her,” Molly said. Apparently, she’d been listening from the kitchen. Now that the kitchen door and other wall had been removed, Steffi could also smell all her cooking. Today, the aroma of beef broth had piqued her hunger.

“She’s pretty easy,” Steffi demurred.

Molly peeked through that plastic drape and chuckled. “Oh, Stefanie, I love her dearly, but few people would call Emmy Quinn easy to handle.”

“Considering all of the recent changes in her life, I think she’s a marvel. No self-pity. No whining. She keeps truckin’ along.” In that way, she supposed she and Emmy had something in common. Of course, Emmy hadn’t given up hope that her family would be reunited. Once that dream died, her attitude could change.

“That’s true.” Molly then teased, “She must get that from me.”

“Absolutely,” Steffi laughed. Molly embodied resilience. Perhaps that was why they’d always gotten along. “Has she mentioned anything about Lisa since our sailing trip?”

“They’ve been eating lunch together. It’s a good step.” Molly’s expression warmed. “Ryan mentioned that you pushed him to meddle.”

Steffi felt her lips part in surprise before she could stop herself. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“Nonsense. You’re helping him and Emmy. Both of their moods have improved these past several weeks.”

“I’m sure that has more to do with your support than mine.” She deflected the compliment. Her father didn’t hand them out often, and her brothers usually dealt them with a heavy dose of sarcasm, so to her, they always sounded like false praise.

“As good as I am . . . and I am good”—Molly winked—“I can’t take full credit. Trust me, you’ve played a big part in easing this transition.”

Their conversation came to an abrupt halt when Emmy raced back into the room. Steffi had to smother her laughter. Emmy came to a full stop, arms and legs spread wide, wearing jeans, a pink-and-red-striped shirt, purple knit mittens, and swim goggles.

“You look prepared!” Molly exclaimed. “I’ll let you two get back to it.”

Steffi knew those mittens wouldn’t do the job. “Molly, do you have gardening gloves that might not be too big for her?”

“Let’s see.” Molly disappeared into the garage and then reappeared with green-and-white gloves. “Try these.”

They nearly came up to Emmy’s elbows but provided better protection and mobility than the mittens.

“Come on, Emmy. Let’s cover your mouth and nose with a face mask.” Steffi had more in the pack, so she fitted one securely onto Emmy’s head. “Now, take the tape measure and determine the exact distance from the bottom of this row to here.” She touched her fingers to the underside of the window frame.

While Emmy measured, Steffi unspooled more batt.

“Thirty-three and a half,” Emmy announced.

“Is that perfect?” Steffi asked, resisting the temptation to double-check. It seemed important to trust Emmy. If she’d made a mistake, Steffi could fix the problem easily enough.

“Yes.” Emmy snapped the tape measure back into place.

“Okay, come over here and I’ll show you how to cut the batt with a utility knife.”

Emmy watched with rapt attention, and then Steffi showed her how to properly install batt and gently push it into place. “I’ll cut a bunch more to fit these sections, and you can be my stuffer.”

“Okay.” Emmy spun in a circle while Steffi measured and cut. When Steffi heard a muffled ringtone, Emmy stopped twirling. Her eyes went wide inside the goggles as she pulled the face mask down and removed her gloves.

“That’s my mom!” She answered the phone, wearing a giant grin. “Hi, Mommy!”

After a pause, she said, “Helping Miss Steffi stuff insulation.”

Steffi cut through the insulation, wishing she could see Val’s face or hear her reaction. Did that woman miss her daughter yet? Was she second-guessing her decision?

“I’m not bothering her. I’m helping build Memaw’s new room.” She twirled a bit of her hair in her fingers, swinging her hips restlessly, the way fidgety kids do. “Am too. I helped push down screens, and I used a nail gun on trim.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It is safe. I’m in goggles and a mask.”

Another pause. “He’s not home yet.”

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