The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(95)

“Oh, this shade of gray is almost pearlescent. It’s perfect! Look at how well it goes with the stone floor. I can’t wait to get the area rug down. We picked a gorgeous Surya blue-and-gray Tibetan carpet.” Claire glanced around the space as if mentally placing the charcoal corduroy sectional, reclaimed-wood coffee table, and nickel-coated standing lamps she’d chosen. “It’ll be cozy yet elegant. Molly will love it.”

“I’m glad you’re satisfied with the color. I was worried it wouldn’t have enough oomph for you.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted. Is Molly here?” Claire asked. “I have a painting and wall hanging in the car for her approval.”

“I’m right here,” Molly called from a corner of the kitchen not visible from the family room. “Should I come take a look now?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind. I can return them before the stores close if you don’t like either.” Claire took her keys from her purse.

“Let’s have a look.” Molly followed Claire out the back door.

Steffi had finished cleaning the sprayer and sealing the paint cans when she heard Emmy go into the kitchen. She thought to invite Emmy in to see the progress but decided to wait her out. She might not have a lot of experience with kids, but they were just little people. All people had a lot in common when it came to trust and friendship. One thing Steffi did know was that those two things must be earned, not forced.

Emmy did eventually wander to the doorway, eating from a bag of pretzels. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “It would’ve been prettier if it had been pink or yellow.”

Steffi smiled. “If I recall, your dad said you could paint your bedroom pink. I’d be happy to teach you to do that when you’re ready.”

Emmy’s gaze narrowed, torn between wanting to say yes and resisting the demise of her nuclear family. “Maybe.”

Steffi hesitated, wanting to ask Emmy questions. Instead, she wound the hose of the sprayer and continued cleaning up her work space, pretending not to care whether Emmy wanted to speak with her.

“What’s that?” Emmy asked, now stepping into the room.

She covered a smile. “It’s a sprayer. It’s a quick way to paint walls, although I’ll still paint the trim with a brush.”

Emmy’s gaze remained fixed on the equipment. “If we paint my room, would we use the sprayer?”

We. A positive sign. Steffi must be doing this right. “Yes, on the walls.”

“Would you let me use it?” She finally made eye contact with Steffi.

“I’d show you how, and we could see how it goes. It’s not as easy as it looks and takes practice. You don’t want your walls to have drips or globs or an uneven tone, right?”

“No,” Emmy said.

Steffi continued to act as if they hadn’t had the bad experience at the fair. Avoidance was something she’d always done well, after all.

Molly and Claire came back inside carrying the artwork. “Oh, Emmy. You’re home. What do you think of these?” Molly asked her granddaughter.

“I like that one.” Emmy pointed at an abstract gray, blue, and pink impasto painting.

“Me too,” Molly agreed. “It’ll look especially nice on that wall.”

Emmy nodded and then, apparently bored with the conversation, asked, “What’s for dinner?”

“You pick. Your father has other plans for dinner, and Grandpap doesn’t care. I’ve been busy today, so I haven’t made anything yet. We could just have hamburgers and Tater Tots.”

“Yes, that!” Emmy jumped. “And no salad.”

“Carrots?” Molly suggested.

Emmy wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a rabbit.”

“Let’s go find a compromise vegetable and let these ladies finish their work.” Molly scooted Emmy back into the kitchen.

Steffi noticed Molly hadn’t mentioned that Ryan’s dinner plans involved her, so she kept quiet.

“I’ll see you at home tonight?” Claire asked. She and Steffi hadn’t spoken about the Logan run-in since it had happened, but Claire seemed to have found her way past it. Perhaps her mom and chocolate really did work miracles. Steffi wouldn’t know about that kind of comfort. It’d been too long since she’d had a mother to lean on.

“I’m leaving here to check on the Hightop crew, then heading over to the bungalow to start demo. Probably won’t get home until nine or so.”

“While I’m here, let me do a quick run through the Weber home so I can start thinking up ideas.” Claire shrugged, accepting defeat. “Might as well get excited about it now that we’ve taken the leap.”

“Yay!” Steffi clapped her on the shoulder. “You’re going to fall in love.”



Ryan returned from the Hartford Correctional Center and climbed the stairs to his office. His shoelace had come untied, his coat unbuttoned, and his tie loosened. Some days this job got the better of him, but he’d have to pull it together for a meeting with his boss in twenty minutes.

When he arrived at his desk, he dropped his briefcase on the floor and hung his jacket on the back of his chair before slouching into it and turning on his computer. A manila envelope with his first name written in black Sharpie sat on top of his keyboard.