Home Improvement

(A Pajaro Bay Short Story)

Barbara Cool Lee

First .Mobi (Kindle) Edition Published by Pajaro Bay Publishing at Amazon.com

© Copyright 2013 Barbara Cool Lee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

ISBN 9781939527219

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

For more information contact info@PajaroBay.com

~*~

Tuesday, March 12, 4:30 p.m.

Bluebird Cottage, Pajaro Bay

Widow.

The word echoed all around her in the empty little cottage.

Kim Bishop took off the black wool blazer she'd worn for the funeral and carefully laid it over one of the kitchen chairs. Bryce's toolbox sat on the floor in the corner, still open where he'd last left it.

Kim went over and picked up his hammer.

She was a 27-year-old widow with a broken-down house, a big insurance settlement, and everything she needed to live a wonderful life.

Except the man who had been her best friend, her confidant, her one true love.

Kim threw the hammer at the wall. It bounced off the plaster, leaving a beautifully symmetrical hole behind.

The tears came then.

She went over and picked up the hammer. As hard as she could, she hammered at the wall, again and again, until the plaster came raining down and covered the floor, covered her black dress, covered her hair and her tear-stained face.

When she was finished and the wall was nothing but a hole framed by rotting boards, she stepped back and surveyed what she'd done.

All around her drifted clouds of plaster dust. She sneezed.

The sneeze and the tears combined to make her hiccup.

What had Bryce always said? Hold your breath through a hiccup and it'll stop.

She tried that—hard to do while sobbing. But she held her breath until she felt the hiccup rise up in her throat. She swallowed hard.

Sure enough, no more hiccup. Bryce had been right about so many things.

She looked around the tiny cottage.

But he was wrong about this.

~*~

Saturday morning, October 26th

The Surfing Puggle, Pajaro Bay

Kim was drowning in pink. Fuchsia mohair vests. Mauve fisherman's sweaters with faux-fur collars. Blush-colored pajamas with matching bathrobes. She continued to pull more clothes out of the delivery boxes, fold them, and place them on the store shelves.

"Rain boots?" she finally said in exasperation when she found a layer of tiny shoes at the bottom of the box. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Jasmine looked up at her from her position behind the counter and laughed. "You'd be surprised."

Her friend Jazz matched her name. Round and bubbly, with ever-changing hair (Clairol Malaysian Cherry this week), rose tattoos winding up from each wrist, and a wild wardrobe to match, Jazz seemed to dance through life with a perpetual grin.

Kim knew her own ash-brown hair, conservative clothes, and minimal makeup helped her blend into the shadow of her flamboyant friend, but she was fine with that. Kim had never been the most eye-catching person in any room, especially one filled with Jazz's overwhelming presence.

Kim looked down at the box and picked up one of the tiny pairs of shoes. "Ladybug boots, Jazz? I mean, really. This is too much."

Jazz just laughed at her again. "Oh, Arrow," she called in a sing-song voice. "Booties!"

A brown miniature poodle in a puppy cut came running from the back. "Boots!" Jazz repeated, and Arrow rolled over obediently and presented her paws. In a minute, the dog was strutting around the store in the tiny red rubber boots with ladybugs printed all over them.

"Walk the runway, Arrow!"

The pup pranced down the main aisle of the shop, lifting her paws in a happy dance as she came. When she made it to the cash register, Jazz gave her a biscuit (Mama Thu's Organic Vegan Low-Cal Doggie Biscuits with Flax Meal, $1.99 each).

"See? She loves her boots."

Kim gave her a skeptical look. "She loves the biscuits. Though I can't imagine why. They look awful."

"They're great, actually," Jazz said. "Nice and crunchy." She took a bite out of one, then tossed another in Kim's direction. It landed on a yellow polka-dot bikini with matching coverup (Chihuahua sized).

"I'm not eating dog biscuits."

"Why not? They're the same thing she sells at her stand down at the amusement park. Only there she calls them Mama Thu's Organic Snacks. Same recipe. These are about a buck cheaper, though."

Kim just shook her head and kept on unpacking the new fall fashions. Doggie fall fashions. Who knew there even were such things? Or that her friend could actually make a living selling them in this little tourist town?

But giving Jazz a hand around the shop was better than staring at the cottage walls all day.

Jazz knew it, too, because the next thing she said was, "Aren't you glad I talked you into accepting this prestigious position?"

"And what position would that be?"

"Chief Canine Wardrobe Officer," Jazz said without missing a beat. "Thrilling, isn't it?"

"Oh, is that why I'm getting minimum wage? Because I get all that prestige?"

"Yup." Kim came over and gave her a hug. "You should be paying me for this opportunity. Besides, I had to get you out of the house before you gave the Historical Society any more fits. I don't think they'll ever forgive you for tearing out that wall."

"It had to come out."

"Sure it did. But you didn't have to remove a load-bearing wall all by yourself without a building permit. I could hear the old biddies screaming from here to the lighthouse."

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Nope," Jazz said with another quick hug. "And Zelda Potter isn't, either."

Kim smiled.

"What?" Jazz said. "Why the grin?" Then she took a step back. "No!" she shouted so loudly that Arrow looked up at her warily. Then she scooped up the pup and danced around the shop. "You got the permit!" she shouted.

"Shhh. You don't have to shout."

"Why not? You finally got past Ms. Zelda Potter and the cackling hens of the Pajaro Bay Hysterical Society. That's fantastic." She set the dog down, much to Arrow's relief, and then grabbed Kim and waltzed her the length of the shop.

Luckily the bell on the shop door chimed, and Jazz let her go.

"What's the celebration about?" asked Robin Brenham, of Robin's Nest Realty next door. Robin wore a gorgeous coppery Donna Karan cashmere sweater and leggings which set off her jet-black hair and caramel skin tone perfectly.

"She got the permit!" Jazz shouted.

Robin beamed at her. "You must be thrilled."

Kim shrugged. "Indoor plumbing. That's a must. And aren't you boiling hot in that sweater?"

"I'm sweating like a pig," she said. "But it just came. I can't wait all year for it to get cold."

"You really think it's going to get cold enough here for cashmere?"

"Probably not, but I have to make some sacrifices for fashion." She pulled out a tissue and wiped her forehead. "Whew. So—ready for coffee?"

Robin's coffee was famous in the little row of shops called Alvarado Alley. It was famous in all of Pajaro Bay, actually. But Kim shook her head. "Can't come today. I've gotta meet the contractor in twenty minutes."

"A contractor who works on Saturdays?" Robin said. "What a treasure. Who is it?"

"Kelly Brothers."

"Which one? Gavin or Gage?"

"Gage."

"Yum," Jazz said.

"Yeah," Robin agreed. "Double yum. Too bad he's such a player. If he were husband material, I'd consider marrying again."

"I'm not looking for romance," Kim said. "I just need someone to fix the bathroom floor."

~*~

When Kim pulled into her driveway, she sat in her little red Mazda and looked at the cottage for a while.

Bluebird Cottage was an original Stockdale, built by the famous architect back in the 1930s. It was two stories high, and its redwood siding and steep shingle roof gave it a cabin-in-the-woods vibe even though it was only a few blocks off the main drag in Pajaro Bay. The teal gingerbread trim and overgrown window boxes added a little more cuteness to the already kitschy design. The whole thing was capped off by the tiny stained glass window up high under the roof peak, its image of a bluebird singing away on a pine branch giving the cottage its name.

She got out of the car, and her sneakers crunched on the pine needles that littered the gravel drive.

She walked up the familiar windy path past the escallonia bushes and under the arch of purple bougainvillea.

The place needed a lot of work. One of the first-floor window boxes had come loose, and it sagged down to touch the ground on the left side. The roof was not only covered with windblown pine needles but there were a bunch of wooden shingles missing, and she'd been informed by the historical society that she was not allowed to replace the roof with more practical, fireproof (and affordable) synthetic shingles, but instead must hire a specialist who would match the color and thickness of the existing wood and fill in the bare spots without, as Miss Zelda Potter said, "changing in any way the distinctive character of the historical Stockdale cottage."

Bluebird Cottage may have a cute name, but it was a pain to deal with.

And of course inside was no better. She had actually stepped through a floorboard in the upstairs bathroom, and now had an unobstructed view of the downstairs fireplace while sitting on the toilet.

But it was a pretty view. The fireplace was surrounded by forget-me-knot blue tiles, with birds embossed on them in high relief. The keystone above the firebox was a hand-painted tile of (what else?) a bluebird. At least the builder had been consistent.

But still, to come across little birds everywhere she turned just reminded her of the first time she'd seen the house. She and Bryce had honeymooned at the beach in Pajaro Bay, and they'd spent several lazy afternoons strolling through the village, holding hands and just enjoying each other's company.

When they'd come across the tiny cottage on a side street, the For Sale sign planted by its rickety picket fence had seemed like an invitation. They'd known that this was the place where all their dreams for the future would come true. They would work side by side to repair and restore the worn-down former rental and turn it into their very own home, the home where Bryce would run the construction estimating business that would make him as successful as they'd planned. And one day soon their own children would play in the yard.

It was all gone now. All but the little cottage with the hole in the floor, and the wall she'd torn out, and the mile-long repair list. And the promise she'd made to Bryce when he lay dying in the emergency room: that she wouldn't give up on her dreams of small-town life.

The beep of a horn behind her made her jump.

Gage's truck came to a stop on the gravel next to her car, and the moment the door opened Freeway hit the ground and came running.

"Hey, boy. I missed you, too," she said, giving the giant shaggy dog a hug.

"It's been a while," Gage said, coming up to stand beside her. Those hazel eyes of his looked at her a bit hesitantly.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," she said.

"I figured I reminded you of...."

"Yeah. Of Bryce." Gage had called a dozen times over the past six months, offering to help, but she somehow never got around to returning the calls until now. He had been Bryce's best friend, the one who'd convinced him to start his estimating business after they took CAD classes in college together. Now the sight of Gage was a reminder of everything she'd lost.

"It's not your fault," she finally said. "It's just taken me a bit of time to be ready to move on." Freeway bumped against her leg and she almost tripped, but Gage was there to catch her. The feel of his strong hand on her arm brought tears to her eyes and she quickly stepped away from him.

She pulled a Kleenex out of her pocket and blew her nose. "Sorry. I'm still a mess."

"You're not a mess," he said with that cute evil grin of his. "I like my women with red noses. Adds a spot of color to their faces."

She had to laugh at that. "Gee, thanks." She realized to her surprise that she'd missed him. He always knew just what to say.

"Now enough of this blubbering," he said gruffly. "Show me the famous wall."

She led him inside. Freeway waited outside with his damp nose pressed up against the screen door.

Gage whistled when he saw the hole where the wall had been. She'd long since cleaned up the plaster and other mess. Now a couple of 4x4s held the overhead beam in place.

"Your brother did a good job saving me," she said.

Gage looked it over. "At least the second floor won't give way now. Gavin wouldn't have let you stay here if it wasn't safe. But I think we might want to do something a little more permanent."

"And a little less ugly," she added.

They went to the kitchen table where the blueprints were spread out.

She brewed a pot of coffee while he read over the plans and the historical society's list of "suggestions" for changes.

She handed him a cup and he took it absently while still reading. Then they both sat down.

"So?" she finally asked. "Think you can do it?"

"Of course I can do it. I've been dealing with Stockdales for years. Miss Zelda has had me over for tea and I've been bitten by her cat, which qualifies me as an expert contractor in this town."

Kim laughed. "You're right. You can't find better credentials than that."

"Not around here. Getting permission to build something in Pajaro Bay is harder than finding a parking spot in tourist season."

Kim sighed. "All I want to do right now is fix the bathroom floor. Why does it have to take six months to get permission for such a simple job?"

"I imagine if you hadn't knocked out a main support wall in the living room, they might not have given you such a hard time," Gage said dryly. He took another sip of coffee. "You're lucky Miss Z didn't come over and slap you upside the head in person."

"She scares me."

He laughed. "She's about 92 years old, you know."

"I don't care. She's still scary."

'Yeah. She is. Reminds me of my 5th grade teacher. I spent a lot of time in detention that year."

"You spent a lot of time in detention every year."

"How do you know?"

"Bryce always said that."

"Hey." He looked at her with a soft smile. "That's the first time you've said his name without crying."

"How do you know?"

"I've been keeping up with the rumor mill. So are you working through it?"

"I'm getting there. More coffee?"

"Nah. I'm already sloshing. I'd better take some measurements of the bathroom floor and see what other materials I'm going to need to pick up during the week."

"You really don't mind working on Saturdays?"

"Of course not. I'm making double the money this way, working one job during the week and yours on the weekend."

"If you're sure...?"

"Sure I'm sure."" He stood up from the table. "Let's go take a look upstairs."

They went out into the living room and he looked up at the gaping hole in the ceiling. "I can see how it would be a bit embarrassing to be caught in the bathtub while someone's downstairs."

"Nobody's ever downstairs," she said. "I live alone. Remember?"

"Yeah." He squeezed her hand. "I remember. Let's get those measurements done. Will you hold the tape for me?"

She nodded.

They headed upstairs together.

~*~

"So how's the home improvement coming?" Jazz asked her the next Saturday.

Kim kept on reorganizing the sunglass rack. "Nothing's happened yet. It's slow, since Gage's working on another job right now. But he'll be over at eleven to fix the floor and then at least I won't be in danger of falling into the living room."

"Too bad he's not marriage material."

"Why?" Kim said absently as she tried to untangle the blinged-out purple mini Yorkie shades from the Great Dane-sized orange eye-protection Doggles.

"Because you should get married again."

That made Kim look up.

"You look silly with your mouth hanging open," Jazz said serenely. "You're made to be married. You like to cook, and putter around the house, and take care of other people."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. It's your thing. Like mine is rescuing dogs. So you should get married and have a truckload of kids and join the PTA."

"I tried marrying once, remember?" Kim said quietly.

"So? Not every man is going to get in a car accident and die on you."

"I can't believe you just said that." Kim turned back to the sunglasses, but she noticed her hands were shaking.

"I'm talking to you like this because I'm your friend and you need to hear it." Jazz picked up Arrow and brought her over to where Kim stood, back to her. "You can't just hide out in your house."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Kim said quietly, still not looking her way.

"Yup. I got you out this far, and I'm going to get you all the way out."

"What's all the way out?"

The door chime jangled and saved her from having to hear the answer. Robin poked her head in (today's outfit was turquoise silk shirt, narrow cream trousers, and iridescent teal Jimmy Choos). "Coffee's on. Five minutes." Then she popped out again.

"Are you going to get the coffee, or should I?" Kim asked.

Jazz shooed Arrow into the back room, flipped the sign on the door to read Surf's Up! Back in a Few, and said, "we'll both go."

~*~

"When do you plan to pop, girl?!" Kim said to the extremely pregnant woman sitting with her feet up on a stack of real estate magazines in Robin's office .

Camilla Stewart-Knight, CPA from the accounting office at the end of Alvarado Alley, sported long, curly red hair, an abundance of freckles, and a belly that looked ready to burst.

"I still have eight-and-a-half weeks," she said. "Can you believe it? I think he's going for a world record." She patted her stomach. "No more coffee for me today, Robin. I'm over my limit."

Robin handed her a chocolate chip cookie. "No limit on these, right?"

Camilla took a big bite of the cookie. "Dr. Lil doesn't dare make give up chocolate. She knows I'd become homicidal without it."

Robin offered a cookie to Kim, and she shook her head. Instead she grabbed a cherry red mug and headed to the steel-and-chrome espresso machine to pour herself a cup of Robin's incredible coffee.

She wrapped her hands around the mug and felt the warmth seep into her. She was trying hard not to be mad at Jazz, but it wasn't working too well. She raised the mug and took a sniff of the coffee. "Wow! What is this?"

"Half Fogchaser beans, half Chocolate Raspberry," Robin said with a smirk. She sat down at her desk and watched Kim inhale again. "Nice, huh?"

Kim took a sip. "Heavenly." She sat down in the padded chair next to Camilla. One look at the tray of Robin's special cookies and she gave in and grabbed one, dipped it into the coffee and took a bite. She smiled.

"Now that we're all here, we need to talk," Jazz said from her spot over by the front window.

Kim glared at her, but it was like glaring at a wall. It didn't do her a bit of good.

"Kim needs to start dating again."

Both Robin and Camilla turned to her with big smiles, and Kim looked down at her coffee cup. "Says Jazz," Kim muttered.

"Okay," Jazz continued, undeterred. "Who should she go out with?"

Camilla looked hard at Kim. "If she's not ready, we shouldn't push her."

Kim looked up at her. "Thank you, Camilla, for respecting my feelings. Not everyone does," she said pointedly.

"You're ready," Jazz said firmly.

"Don't you think I should decide that?" Kim asked.

"She's got a point," Robin said.

"What would one date hurt, Kim?" Jazz asked. "Just give me a good reason why you would rather not date, and I'll respect that."

Kim sat there, a bit stumped. She didn't want to go out with anyone. She didn't want to start thinking about her life as being without Bryce forever. But was that the way she wanted to live? Was that what Bryce would want for her?

She looked up and saw they were all watching her. "I will consider it. Possibly. At some time in the future. Just consider," she repeated when Jazz's face lit up in triumph. Then she found herself sitting back while they all plunged into a heated debate on the merits of every single guy in town.

"Mel Machado," Robin said.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Jazz said. "He's too old and he's a grump."

"Okay," Camilla said. "Hector."

That made all of them burst out laughing. Hector ran the local garage, and spent his spare time trolling the snack food aisle of the grocery store, trying to satisfy his constant craving for munchies.

"Don't reject him so quickly," Camilla continued when they all looked at her as if she were nuts. "He's sweet, kind-hearted, and I have never heard him say a bad thing about a single soul in town."

"He's also stoned out of his skull every day."

"Maybe he just needs the love of a good woman to straighten him out," Camilla said.

Everybody laughed.

"No," Jazz said, shaking her head. "We've got to find a nice man with no bad qualities. No rejects from the shallow end of the gene pool."

"Well, if you want perfect," Camilla said, patting her belly. "My son will be perfect in every way. You just have to wait about 30 years for him to be ready."

"Sounds good to me," Kim said. "I'm not in a rush."

"Now, everyone think," Jazz said. "Where can we find her the perfect man?"

"I had the perfect man," Kim said quietly. "I'm not going to find another like Bryce."

"Gavin Kelly's pretty perfect," Robin said wistfully.

"His wife and kids probably agree with you," Jazz said. "Too bad Gage isn't like him. Oh, why won't that guy settle down?!" she said in frustration. "He'd be great if he wasn't such a playboy."

"Isn't it always like that?" Robin said. "Two brothers. The wild one with the looks, and the sweet one with the wife and two kids. Guess it's too much to expect Gage to be a family man like Gavin."

"The Kelly Brothers are out. So who's left?" Jazz said.

"Ryan Knight has the whole sexy, macho cop thing going on," Robin suggested.

Camilla Stewart-Knight said, "I agree. But I'm not giving him up--even for you, Kim. How about Oliver?" Oliver was her nine-year-old adopted son. "Nah," she added, reconsidering. "He wants a Play Station, not a girlfriend."

"That's okay," Kim said. "Like I said, I'm really not in a hurry."

"Yes you are," Jazz said firmly.

"Okay," Robin said. "I've dated pretty much every single guy in town, so I can give you all the details. Let's see, do you want the party boy type, or the guy who sits in front of his TV eating pizza every night? How about the commitment-phobe? The super-athlete who thinks kayaking 40 miles across the bay is a fun first date? The momma's boy? The rebel without a clue?"

"This is what you want for me?" Kim said to Jazz.

"Drink your coffee, you cynic," Jazz said to Robin. "You're scaring her."

"I'm not scared. I'm just not ready."

"But I have a perfect guy," Jazz said. "And Robin's never dated him, so he's pure as the driven snow."

"I'd resent that if it weren't true," Robin said calmly. She wiped the cookie crumbs off the paperwork on her desk. "So who is this perfect guy and where has he been hiding?"

"He's tall, with dark wavy hair. Nice looking. He just graduated from college. He's a local boy. He has a great job with Cordova Computing."

"Ah, they only fire the best," Robin said, saluting Camilla with her coffee cup.

"Thank you very much," Camilla said, returning the salute with a wave of her third cookie. "Great employer. So who's the guy?"

"Ben Freitas."

"Little Ben?" Robin said. "He's just a kid."

"He's 24 now, and Felix Cordova's personal assistant. He's cute, too."

"He's definitely that," Robin agreed. "And smart."

They all smiled and looked expectantly at Kim.

She sat there trying to think of a reason to say no, without telling them what she was really thinking. She finally said quietly, "I'm just not ready."

Everybody got quiet.

Then Jazz jumped up and gave her a big hug. "I'm sorry, Kim. We didn't mean to push you."

"Yes, we did," Camilla said. "But only with the best intentions."

"I know. I appreciate that. But I'll let you all know when I'm ready for you to start throwing men at me."

Robin took her coffee cup and went over to the espresso machine. "In the meantime, have another cup."

Kim looked up at the clock on the wall behind Robin. "I can't. I've gotta meet Gage at the house, or I won't have a working bathroom tonight."

Jazz took her coffee cup from her and shooed her out the door. "Go. Don't let him rip you off. See you tomorrow."

~*~

"You know," Gage said as he followed her into the house, "taking that wall out really opened up this place." He stood inside the front door and looked at the view from there all the way through the kitchen to the glimpse of back yard visible through a wavy glass window over the sink. "If we put a proper frame on your hole in the wall and add the pillar Ms. Z wants, I think it'll look really good."

"Maybe after the bathroom is done you could start on that," she said. "So how long will the bath floor take?"

"About two days. I've got to move the claw foot tub so I can work under there first, then move it back and finish the rest of the floor. It'll go faster if you help."

She had always helped Bryce when he worked on the house, and Gage knew that.

"And just think," he added, handing her a little paper bag, "two more days of maple bars." Gage had a thing for doughnuts. Kim did too, as a matter of fact, but she couldn't afford to indulge in her craving as often as he did. He still had the fit body he'd always had. Probably from working construction all day.

"Okay," she finally said. "I'll help. The work'll burn off the doughnut calories, anyway." And it would give her another excuse to avoid Jazz's pressure. She could say she had to work around the house instead of making a fool of herself on some embarrassing blind date.

"How about some coffee?" she asked. "I left the pot plugged in this morning--it might still be good." She poured the last of the morning's pot in his mug. The dregs swirled to the bottom. "Sorry," she said. "That doesn't look too appealing. I'll make a fresh pot."

"Don't bother." Gage grinned. "I'll just strain out the coffee grounds with my teeth."

She sat down at the table and smiled weakly, her thoughts still distracted.

"Come on, Kim. What's up?" Gage asked. "I'm being really charming here."

She had to laugh at that. He was being charming, as usual, but she couldn't get her mind off what Jazz had said.

"Tell me about it," Gage said.

"About what?"

"Come on, Kim. Something's bothering you. Let it out. What are friends for if you can't drag them down to your level of misery?" He laughed again, deep smile lines framing those not-so-innocent hazel eyes.

She took a deep breath. "Do you remember your first date?"

"Are we changing the subject here, darlin'?"

"No. Not really. Do you remember?"

"Sure." He sat back in the chair, reminiscing. "I was twelve. Her name was Lulu. What a bod."

"Oh, Gage!"

"—I'm kidding, I'm kidding. She was a nice girl. I was terrified, and I accidentally knocked her glasses off when I tried to kiss her goodnight. Very embarrassing. Almost as bad as the time my trunks fell off at the swim meet—but that's another story." He looked at her. "So, what about your first date? Was it a disaster or what?"

She hesitated. "You promise you won't tell?"

"Hey, Kim." His voice got very soft all of a sudden. "I wouldn't hurt you for the world."

"I never had a first date."

"What?"

"I've never been on a date. Now don't you laugh at me," she said, but he looked quite serious.

"What about Bryce?" he asked. "How did you two get together, mental telepathy?"

"I'd known Bryce since grade school. We were friends, you know? If the gang was going to get hamburgers or something, we'd just go together." She looked into his eyes. She really wanted him—somebody—to understand how she felt. "Bryce and I finally realized our friendship had turned into love when we weren't paying attention. I don't suppose that makes sense to you."

"Yeah it does, Kim." Gage put his hand over hers. "I know what that feels like."

He was being so nice about this, she thought. She patted his hand, and then got up to rinse her coffee cup in the sink.

"Anyway," she said, sitting back down at the table, "now I'm alone again. And I've come to accept Bryce being gone, I really have." She looked around the sunny kitchen, with the homemade peach-colored curtains and the retro-looking linoleum they'd put down themselves the week before he'd died. "I have my home, and working with Jazz is fun. Crazy, but fun." She sighed. "But Jazz thinks I should start dating again. And, well, I'm wondering if she might be right."

"You shouldn't have any trouble finding someone, Kim."

"If I never go on a date, how can I?"

"You know what I think? I think when you want something, you have to go for it." He was looking at her intently.

He was right. How was she going to find someone if she didn't take a chance?

"Kim," he said softly—

"—You're right. I'm going to go for it," she said, jumping up from the table.

"Where're you going?"

"To make a phone call."

She went to the living room where she'd left her purse and called the Puggle. "So tell me," she said when Jazz picked up. "When does this guy want to go out?"

When she hung up the phone she went back into the kitchen. She could hear loud pounding in the bathroom. Gage had gone back to work, leaving his coffee and donut half finished.

~*~

Gage's truck was in the driveway when she got home from her date on Monday evening. Ben Freitas walked her to her door, and they stood there on the porch a bit awkwardly for a moment.

"Well...," she said. "I had a nice time."

"Yeah," he said. "Me, too." He leaned in to give her a kiss and she turned it into a peck on the cheek and a quick hug.

"Thanks for the dinner and the walk on the beach," she said.

"Yeah," he said again. "I'll call you next time I'm in town."

She nodded and then stood on the porch waving until his car had backed out of the drive and was gone.

Then she heard the sound of footsteps up on the roof.

She walked out onto the lawn so she could see the roofline in the dark. She couldn't see anything in the darkness up there. She stood still and listened. Crickets chirped, the pine tree in the back yard rustled, and the sea whispered from far off down the hill. "Is that you up there, Gage, or a raccoon?"

"I've never been mistaken for a raccoon before," said his familiar voice.

"Well, what are you doing up there in the dark?"

"The radio said rain is predicted for next week," he said. She heard the sound of his steps again, and then the rattle of an aluminum ladder against the side of the house.

He came around the corner, slapping his jeans to get the dust off. "Might get pretty cold, too," he continued. "Down into the 40s. Thought I'd better get those shingles done before we get an actual winter around here."

They went inside.

"So how did it go?" he asked over the last of her awful coffee and more leftover doughnuts.

"Fine. No spark there, but it was fine. I got my feet wet, anyway."

Gage nodded. "So you're okay?"

"Is that why you stayed late? To make sure Ben wasn't a mugger or something?"

"I told you I was fixing the roof. The rain coming, remember?"

She nodded.

"But, Kim, um—"

He started to say something, but the phone rang and she went to get it out of her purse. "Yeah, Jazz, I'm home. How did you know?" She half-listened while Jazz explained about Ben's car passing her as she was walking out of the market. "Yes," Kim admitted when Jazz asked if the date was a dud. "He's a nice enough guy, but we're not right for each other."

Gage came up with his toolbox in hand. He smiled at her, and she put Jazz on hold for a minute.

"Thanks for staying and working so late," she told him. She gave him a quick hug, and then her phone rang again. She answered.

It was Jazz. "I hung up and called back because I have a brilliant idea and I need to set it up now. I see Morgan O'Keeffe across the street. She's got a cousin who's visiting from San Francisco. I'm going to fix you up with him for tomorrow."

Kim smiled at Gage, silently imitated Jazz's chatter and quickly whispered, "see you Saturday," then headed into the kitchen while Jazz went on about this new guy.

She heard Gage's truck pull out of the driveway as she grabbed the last stale doughnut he'd left in the bag on the kitchen table.

Between bites of the maple bar she made agreeable noises into the phone for Jazz, and in a few minutes she'd agreed to another blind date for lunch at Mel's Fish Shack on Tuesday.

She finally got Jazz to let her go and then stood in the kitchen licking the last of the maple frosting off her fingertips. She was back in the dating pool.

"Yippee," she said to the empty kitchen, and went upstairs to put on her flannel pjs.

~*~

On Thursday afternoon a week later, little Ria O'Keeffe was shopping at the Puggle with her dog Muffin in tow. Kim patiently waited on her while Muffin tried on every pink sweater they had in stock.

Finally a hot pink faux fur vest with a white lining met with everyone's approval, and it was decided that Muffin just had to have it.

Kim carefully wrapped the vest in tissue paper, sealed the package with a Surfing Puggle logo sticker, and put it into Ria's recycled canvas bag. "I'll email the bill to your dad like always," she told Ria, and then the girl and dog left.

"You know," Jazz said. "Her dad's single."

"I'm aware of that, Jazz. But he's dating someone right now."

"Things could be arranged."

"What?" Kim asked. "A mob hit on the girlfriend?"

"I'm just sayin'," Jazz said.

"Come on and get some coffee. Maybe it'll thaw out your brain," Kim told her.

~*~

"Six dates and six duds," Jazz said morosely. "My matchmaking is a total failure." She sipped her coffee and pouted.

"I think we could do a makeover on you," Robin said to Kim. "You'd look great in my new Donna Karan."

"If a man won't accept me in jeans, I'm not interested." Kim sat back in her chair and ate a cookie.

"We're running out of guys," Jazz said. "Unless you want to donate Ryan to the cause?" she added to Camilla.

Camilla laughed and shook her head.

"Didn't you find any of them appealing?" Jazz said plaintively. "I mean, maybe you wouldn't marry them, but wasn't even one of them hot enough for a roll in the hay?"

"I thought you were trying to get me married with two-point-five children."

"Roll in the hay?" Robin repeated. "What are you? Miss farmer's daughter?"

"You want me to be more graphic?"

Camilla patted her belly. "Not in front of my son if you please."

"I want you to remarry, Kim" Jazz continued, ignoring them. "I mean, I'm happy for all the rolls in the hay life dishes out—"

"—I think we've used that phrase enough," Robin interjected.

"Not necessarily," Jazz said. "I've rolled with the best of them."

"You've been a rolling stone and you've liked it," Robin said.

"I went rolling on the river," Jazz responded.

"You're rolling in the deep," Robin said.

"Now I think we're done," Jazz said.

They all agreed.

"I guess there's only one option left," Robin said. "We all chip in on a Play Station and Kim marries Oliver."

"I"m fine all by myself," Kim said. "This was all your idea."

"No you're not," Jazz said. "Robin and I are happily single. Camilla's happily married."

"—Not with my swollen ankles, I'm not," Camilla said.

"Oh, hush," Robin said. "This is serious. We've run out of eligible bachelors to sic on Kim."

"Don't hush me, girlfriend. I've got the solution. And it doesn't involve investing in any video games."

Camilla sat up straight in her chair, which was a feat in itself, and took a piece of paper out of her purse. She waved the paper at them. "I have in my possession a nice, attractive, successful single guy."

"Where have you been hiding him?" Robin asked. "I could use one too, you know."

"Kim gets first dibs."

Robin nodded. "Just this once, I'll be magnanimous. Okay, so tell us about him."

"He's a new client of mine. Owns a coffee shop up the coast and was referred to me by another client. So he's not quite local, but he does come down here to surf on the weekends."

They all looked at Kim.

"And," Camilla continued, "he misses home cooking."'

"We'll buy him a cookbook," Kim said.

"No, you'll cook him dinner. Something nice." She smiled at Kim. "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach and all that."

Kim laid her head back against the chair. "All right. Once more into the breach."

~*~

On Friday morning she was in the grocery store shopping for the big dinner that night. She stopped in the snack food aisle to get doughnuts for Gage to have on Saturday.

"Hey, nice lady. Lookin' for some munchies?" Hector from the garage grinned at her with that half-vacant but very friendly smile. He handed her a bag of chips.

"No, thanks, Hector. I'm going to be making a steak dinner."

"Woah. That's heavy."

"Not so much, Hector. Be seeing you." She smiled and rounded the corner, only to bump into the five-year-old Kelly twins, Nick and Noël.

The two pairs of dark eyes stared up at her worriedly. "We didn't do nothin'."

She bent down to them. "It's okay. I know you didn't." The little ones still hadn't learned to trust. But she knew their foster parents Gavin and Ava were working hard to teach them how.

"Hey, Kim," Ava said. She was at the meat counter picking up the makings for burgers. "How's the house coming along?"

"Great. It's slow because Gage has to fit it in between his other job, but it's all turning out well."

The butcher interrupted to ask Kim what she needed. "Um, I'm making dinner to impress a guy, so I thought maybe steak?"

"You're paying him back with dinner?" Ava asked. "I knew he'd get up the nerve to come clean to you eventually."

"Paying him back?"

"I told him he should just tell you he was working for you for free, but you know how he is. He didn't want you to feel obligated."

"Gage?" Kim said.

"Yeah. I'm glad he finally came clean to you. I've been trying to get him to admit his crush for months. I told him you must know how he feels for you, but he wasn't sure and didn't want to put you on the spot."

"How he feels?"

Kim's shock must have finally gotten through to Ava. "You didn't know? Did I say something wrong?"

Kim gave her a big hug, but she still looked worried. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable?" Kim shook her head. "Exactly the opposite. I feel more comfortable than I have in weeks."

Ava started to question her more, but Kim just pointed to the end cap of the canned food section. "You're about to be responsible for a dozen broken jars of pickled beets," she said and Ava ran down the aisle after her kids.

Kim turned back to the ever-patient man behind the counter. "What I need, Mr. Santos, is two of your best steaks for a very special dinner."

~*~

Gage was there at seven p.m. in answer to her call.

"So what's the emergency?" he asked as he came in the door.

"Come on in," she said, and he did.

"Wow," he said, looking her over.

She smoothed down Robin's brown cashmere sweater over her jeans. "Do I look okay?"

"Yeah. Definitely. But you always do." He sniffed the air. "Steak?"

She nodded. "Steak, baked potatoes, and a big green salad. For two."'

"Oh, wow," he said awkwardly. "I'm in the way. You said the tub wasn't draining properly? I'll fix it and get going so you can get on with your date."

She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

The kitchen table set with her best dishes, two place settings. She handed him matches and pointed to the candles. "Do you mind lighting 'em?"

He shook his head.

She opened the oven door to check on the steaks. They were done. She turned off the oven and left them in to keep warm.

She straightened up and glanced over at him. He just stood by the table, holding the matches and looking really miserable.

"They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right?"

Gage swallowed hard. "He's a lucky guy."

She grinned at him. "Yes, you are."

He looked at her, confused. Then the light dawned.

"Close your mouth and sit down," she said. "Then start explaining why you never told me how you felt."

He sat down. "Um, well." He fidgeted with the book of matches, tapping them on the tablecloth, shifting them from hand to hand.

Finally she took them from him and lit the candles herself. She blew out the match. "Talk," she said. "When I told you I was going to start dating again, why didn't you ask me out?"

"During the split second between you telling me you were going to start going out with guys and the time Jazz fixed you up?"

"Yeah, somewhere in there."

She sat down at the table opposite him and held her hand out to him. He took it.

"Did you think I wouldn't have stopped and listened if you told me how you felt?"

"I just couldn't find the right time. At first you were grieving, and you just needed a friend. Then afterwards, your friends had you dating everybody in town except me." He frowned. "And why didn't they fix me up with you? Don't I qualify as an eligible bachelor?"

"You? Mr. I'm-Not-Serious-About-Anyone?"

"I'm serious about you," he said simply.

"I thought you weren't interested in settling down. Everybody thought that. So why haven't you?"

"How could I get married when the woman I loved was married to my best friend?"

She sat back in the chair with a loud creak of the old wood. "Wow. I never knew."

He looked embarrassed. "Of course not. You and Bryce were happy. I couldn't say anything. I was happy the two of you had each other. I wouldn't have wished for you to lose him for anything."

"I know that. But when he died you still kept your mouth shut?"

"I couldn't hit on you when you were in pain. You needed me to be a friend, not to put pressure on you."

"And you were a friend." She thought about the last few months. "You did everything you could to help me through it."

He leaned forward and took her hand again. "I never wanted to rush you. But suddenly there you were, looking for someone, and I was invisible."

"You were there all the time. And I was too dense to realize it." She got up and came around the table to stand in front of him. She held his head in her hands, noticing the dark curls, the hazel eyes, the deep laugh lines in his face, the roughness of the dark stubble on his cheeks. How could she have not noticed him? She bent down and kissed him softly, just brushing his lips with hers, trying it out to see how it felt. It felt right. Totally right. Like losing everything and then finding a new home waiting for you, its door wide open, beckoning you to enter.

"You were right there, all along," she whispered.

"Just waiting for you to be ready."

"I'm ready now."

"Yeah." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, his arms resting gently around her waist, holding her safe and warm.

She came up for air and smelled the steak. "So how about dinner?" she asked, her voice raw with emotion—joy, sadness, some combination of both.

"Dinner," he said dreamily. "I guess we could do that. But didn't you call me because you needed something repaired first?"

"You can always fix the tub. You'll be around for a long time."

"A lifetime," he said, and kissed her again.

~*~

The End.

~*~

If you enjoyed this little taste of life in Pajaro Bay, you may want to read the first novel in the Pajaro Bay series, The Honeymoon Cottage. Readers have called it a "magnificent read!" with "excellent characterization." They praised it as "adorable, lively and like a warm hug," with a "well-developed plot" and a "surprise ending."

Learn more about The Honeymoon Cottage at: http://barbaracoollee.com/?page_id=790

~*~

Every Pajaro Bay story includes a recipe. The recipe for Home Improvement is:

Robin's Healthier-But-Still-Indulgent Classic Chocolate Chip Cookies

Mix 1/2 cup real butter, 1/2 cup mashed avocado, 3/4 cup sugar, and 3/4 cup brown sugar with electric mixer until smooth.

Add 2 eggs, 2 teaspoons vanilla, 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon baking soda, and mix in thoroughly.

Add 2 and 1/4 cups King Arthur Organic White Whole Wheat Flour and mix until smooth.

Add 1 cup Ghiradelli Milk Chocolate Chips and mix by hand until blended in.

Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto ungreased cookie sheet and bake in 375 degree oven for ten minutes. Take out and let sit on pan for 5 minutes to set, then remove with spatula and let cool until you can't stand waiting anymore and you have to eat them. Don't burn your mouth on the melted chocolate.

~*~