notice the tidiness, the clean corners, the few extra touches she tried
to add. A professional woman like Anna, a woman with a demanding career,
would see, wouldn't she, that Grace was needed here?
She raced downstairs again to check on Aubrey, to drag wet clothes out
of the washer into a basket and put the second load in.
She would make sure there were fresh flowers in the master bedroom when
the newlyweds returned. And she'd put out the good fingertip towels. She
would leave a note for Phillip to pick up some fruit so she could
arrange it prettily in the bowl on the kitchen table.
She'd make time to paste-wax the hardwood floors and wash and iron the
curtains.
She hung clothes on the line quickly, without any of her usual enjoyment
in the task. Still, the simple routine began to calm her. Everything
would be all right, somehow.
She caught herself swaying and shook her head to clear it. Fatigue had
come quickly, like a punch to the jaw. If she had bothered to calculate
the time she'd been on her feet and moving that day, she would have
counted seven hours, on a short five hours' sleep the night before. What
she did calculate was that she had another twelve to go. And she needed
a break.
Ten minutes, she promised herself, and as she sometimes did on long
days, stretched out right in the grass by the clothes that waved on the
line. A ten-minute nap would recharge her system and still give her time
to scrub down the kitchen before Aubrey woke up.
ethan drove home from the waterfront. He'd cut his day on the water
short, letting Jim and his son take the workboat out again to check the
pots in the Pocomoke. Seth was off with Danny and Will, and Ethan
figured on grabbing himself a quick, if delayed, lunch, then spending
the next several hours at the boatyard. He wanted to finish the cockpit,
maybe get the roof of the cabin started. The more he managed to do, the
less time it would be before Cam could get into the finish and fancy
work.
He slowed down when he saw Grace's car on the side of the road, then
pulled over quickly. He only shook his head when he looked under the
open hood. Damn thing was held together with spit and prayers, he
decided. She shouldn't be driving something so unreliable. Just what if,
he thought sourly, the goddamn thing had decided to break down when
she'd been coming home from the pub in the middle of the night?
He took a closer look and hissed through his teeth. The radiator was a
dead loss, and if she was entertaining the idea of replacing it, he'd
just have to talk her out of it.
He would find her a decent secondhand car. Fix it up for her--or ask
Cam, who knew engines like Midas knew gold, to tune it up. He wasn't
having her driving around in a wreck like this, and with the baby, too.
He caught himself, took a couple steps back. It wasn't any of his
business. The hell it wasn't, he thought, with an uncharacteristic flash
of temper. She was a friend, wasn't she? He had a right to help out a
friend, especially one who needed some looking after.
And God knew--whether or not Grace did--that she needed some looking
after. He got back in his truck and drove home with a scowl on his face.