The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(8)
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I was being friendly. She’s got to be confused and lonely and scared.” She turned her palms upward in question. “I thought it’d be nice to give her some attention and make her feel helpful.”
He crossed his arms and stepped closer, lip curled. “On the surface, that does sound nice—thoughtful, even—until I remember that you’re great at making people feel like they matter to you, until they don’t. I don’t want my daughter getting attached to you when I know you’ll vanish from her life once you get bored.”
Although Steffi admired Ryan’s desire to protect Emmy, she also refused to be his dumping ground.
She pushed at his shoulder. “Enough already. I’ve apologized for the past. I’m not proud of how I acted back then, but I can’t change it, either. I was nineteen, for God’s sake. How about you at least give me a little break for being a stupid teenage girl who was in over her head? As for now, your mom hired me to do a job. I’ll be here every day for six to eight weeks, so I’m going to run into Emmy. I won’t go out of my way to involve her, but I also won’t ignore her if she comes to talk to me. If you don’t want to try to be my friend, that’s your choice, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like gum under your shoe. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find your mom and say goodbye.”
She brushed past him before he could smack her with another hurtful retort.
Molly wasn’t in the kitchen or living room, so Steffi decided to text her a note and be on her way. Once she got outside, she found Molly weeding her flower beds surrounding the hydrangea bushes. “Oh, there you are. I’m done for today. I’ll work up a bid by tomorrow.”
Molly waved a hand. “Just a formality. And I’m not too worried. My mother left me some money when she died two years ago that’s itching to be put to use. The key is to get started right away.”
Steffi smiled, grateful that Molly didn’t hold a grudge. She welcomed the opportunity to rebuild some semblance of their old relationship, and she needed the work. On the other hand, her being here could make things very hard on Ryan. “Molly, I appreciate this chance, but I’m not sure my working here every day is something Ryan’s too jazzed about. Maybe I should recommend someone else for the job.”
Molly stood and removed her gardening gloves. “Nonsense. I love my son, but he’s got to learn to let go of things.”
“Like you managed to do?”
“Honey, you were a young girl. Young girls make lots of mistakes . . . this I know from experience.” She winked. “Some of us need to go far and wide before we find our way home. With a limited supply of old friends in our lifetime, it’s worth giving them a second chance, don’t you think?”
“Thank you for that.” Steffi nodded, although she’d pretty much blown any right to call Ryan a friend, and he surely didn’t see her as one. He didn’t trust her. Maybe he never would, but maybe she owed it to him to try, even if he rejected her. At the very least, that kind of penance might help her overcome lingering guilt about the way things had ended. “I’ll shoot you an estimate and some window options, and then we’ll go from there. Red oak floors for that space will cost a couple grand, plus labor. Do you want those, or do you want to use a seal over the flagstone floor?”
“I suppose there’s a certain charm to keeping the stone floor, and it never hurts to save a few dollars.”
Overhead, a window squeaked open, and Emmy pressed her face to the screen. “Memaw, can you help me unpack my boxes?”
Molly looked up, shading her eyes with one hand. “Close that window unless you want your room to turn into a sauna.”
“What’s a sauna?” Emmy bounced her nose off the screen a few times, apparently enjoying the springy sensation.
“Never mind. Just close the window. You’ll split that screen. I’ll be up in a minute.” Molly looked at Steffi once the window sash slammed shut. “I hope I’m not too old for all this. I love my son and Emmy, but there’s a reason women my age can’t have kids.”
“Good luck!” Steffi smiled, thinking she liked little Emmy Quinn a lot.
She slid into the driver’s seat of her sweltering car, its leather practically fusing with the skin on the back of her thighs. Before starting the engine, she checked her calendar. She’d promised her brother Benny she’d be his training partner for the New York City Marathon this fall. He’d scheduled a four-mile circuit for tonight, so it shouldn’t be too bad, even in this heat.
Ben was the youngest of her three older brothers and the only one who still lived nearby. They thought alike: efficient, calm, can-do spirits. Their eldest brother, Matt—a typical firstborn overachiever—lived in Miami and worked as an orthopedic surgeon. He’d never married. Neither had Chris, who currently worked as an assistant strength-and-conditioning coach at the University of Mississippi. Ben—also unattached—worked with their dad at Lockwood Hardware.
Nobody gave a second thought to the fact that none of her brothers were in serious relationships, but she felt pressure—like there was something wrong with her for not finding love.
Sometimes she thought life would be easier if she’d been born a guy. She seemed to fit in better with their humor and sensibility than with that of most women she knew. Well, other than Claire and Peyton, which was another reason why she couldn’t turn her back on Peyton. Molly’s advice about old friends drifted back.