but at the words she stopped and gave the question serious consideration.
Sure, she liked Patrick. He was nice and had good manners. And he was easy on the eyes. What wasn’t to like? But it wasn’t as if she’d been swept off her feet.
As her mom had just pointed out, though, she wasn’t getting any younger. This fact, and the lack of ever being swept off her feet, had led her to wonder if that was purely an embellished teenage emotion. Was real life . . . mature love . . . calmer?
She hoped not. It was a sad thought.
“Yes,” she reiterated, this time with a nod. “I liked him. He was great.”
He was certainly better than any other option that had crossed her path lately.
“Then have fun,” her mom said. “And don’t worry so much.” She kissed Ginger on the cheek, and Ginger pulled her in for a quick hug.
“Thanks, Mom.” Stepping back, she picked up her purse and cell phone and nodded toward the door. “I need to make a call before he gets here. I’ll do it outside.”
It was after work hours, but she’d been trying to get her contractor to return her calls for three days. Before she completely shut down for the weekend, she intended to give it one more shot. She had to get things moving. She couldn’t very well live in a house with no electricity or walls.
Stepping outside, she placed the call, and found herself heading to the side of the porch next to Carter’s house while she waited. As the phone rang, she scanned the house, noting that unlike the last two days, the blinds were open. That must mean Julie was home.
“This is Darrin,” a man’s voice said in her ear.
Relief raced through her. “Darrin. I’m so glad I got you. This is Ginger Atkinson. The house on—”
“On Beachview,” Darrin finished for her. “Yeah. What can I do for you?”
Unless the man never listened to his voice messages, that was a ridiculous question. She’d left three that week telling him what he could do for her.
“I need to get the house finished,” she stated.
“Sure.” She heard him flipping pages. “We’ve got a job to finish up first, but I could have a crew out there by the middle of November.”
“November?” she screeched. She tossed her purse in a chair and paced the length of the porch. “But I need to move in in six weeks.”
“Well, then . . . hmmm . . .”
More pages flipped.
“That seems to be a problem,” he finally said.
“Two months before you can start is definitely a problem,” Ginger grumbled. “My mother’s new husband will be moving in here at the end of next month. I have to be out by then.”
“I heard about your mother’s engagement. Tell her congratulations for me, will you?”
She ground her teeth together and retraced her steps. “Tell her yourself. When you get back to work on my house.”
“I’m sorry, Ginger, but that’s just not possible right now. We had to move on.”
Dang it. She knew she’d caused delays, but Darrin had known she would need it completed eventually. What good was an unfinished house?
“Should I put it on the calendar?” he asked.
Panic squeezed her chest. What else could she do? “Yes,” she muttered.
They said their good-byes, and she palmed the phone. Maybe she could rent a place until it was done. Truth be told, she probably should have rented a place and moved out years ago.
The Ridley door opened, and she watched as Carter came out, said something to his sister, then stomped to the car. Frustration was evident on his face, but the thing that pulled Ginger’s attention the most was that he looked . . . good.
Like . . . good . Had he looked like that the other day?
She remembered thinking he was too thin. And she’d been shocked to see him, so maybe she hadn’t paid that much attention. And he’d smelled vaguely of cigarette smoke.
But dang, his jeans fit his body well tonight.
The sight reminded her of what he’d looked like as a teenager. When most of the other boys were just
Sure, she liked Patrick. He was nice and had good manners. And he was easy on the eyes. What wasn’t to like? But it wasn’t as if she’d been swept off her feet.
As her mom had just pointed out, though, she wasn’t getting any younger. This fact, and the lack of ever being swept off her feet, had led her to wonder if that was purely an embellished teenage emotion. Was real life . . . mature love . . . calmer?
She hoped not. It was a sad thought.
“Yes,” she reiterated, this time with a nod. “I liked him. He was great.”
He was certainly better than any other option that had crossed her path lately.
“Then have fun,” her mom said. “And don’t worry so much.” She kissed Ginger on the cheek, and Ginger pulled her in for a quick hug.
“Thanks, Mom.” Stepping back, she picked up her purse and cell phone and nodded toward the door. “I need to make a call before he gets here. I’ll do it outside.”
It was after work hours, but she’d been trying to get her contractor to return her calls for three days. Before she completely shut down for the weekend, she intended to give it one more shot. She had to get things moving. She couldn’t very well live in a house with no electricity or walls.
Stepping outside, she placed the call, and found herself heading to the side of the porch next to Carter’s house while she waited. As the phone rang, she scanned the house, noting that unlike the last two days, the blinds were open. That must mean Julie was home.
“This is Darrin,” a man’s voice said in her ear.
Relief raced through her. “Darrin. I’m so glad I got you. This is Ginger Atkinson. The house on—”
“On Beachview,” Darrin finished for her. “Yeah. What can I do for you?”
Unless the man never listened to his voice messages, that was a ridiculous question. She’d left three that week telling him what he could do for her.
“I need to get the house finished,” she stated.
“Sure.” She heard him flipping pages. “We’ve got a job to finish up first, but I could have a crew out there by the middle of November.”
“November?” she screeched. She tossed her purse in a chair and paced the length of the porch. “But I need to move in in six weeks.”
“Well, then . . . hmmm . . .”
More pages flipped.
“That seems to be a problem,” he finally said.
“Two months before you can start is definitely a problem,” Ginger grumbled. “My mother’s new husband will be moving in here at the end of next month. I have to be out by then.”
“I heard about your mother’s engagement. Tell her congratulations for me, will you?”
She ground her teeth together and retraced her steps. “Tell her yourself. When you get back to work on my house.”
“I’m sorry, Ginger, but that’s just not possible right now. We had to move on.”
Dang it. She knew she’d caused delays, but Darrin had known she would need it completed eventually. What good was an unfinished house?
“Should I put it on the calendar?” he asked.
Panic squeezed her chest. What else could she do? “Yes,” she muttered.
They said their good-byes, and she palmed the phone. Maybe she could rent a place until it was done. Truth be told, she probably should have rented a place and moved out years ago.
The Ridley door opened, and she watched as Carter came out, said something to his sister, then stomped to the car. Frustration was evident on his face, but the thing that pulled Ginger’s attention the most was that he looked . . . good.
Like . . . good . Had he looked like that the other day?
She remembered thinking he was too thin. And she’d been shocked to see him, so maybe she hadn’t paid that much attention. And he’d smelled vaguely of cigarette smoke.
But dang, his jeans fit his body well tonight.
The sight reminded her of what he’d looked like as a teenager. When most of the other boys were just
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