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Authors: Lorena McCourtney
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living here, I could return for a closer perusal any time. Which I definitely intended to do.
I reached the foyer just as the guy stepped inside. He and Kelli greeted each other with a light kiss. Kelli introduced us—full name Chris Sterling. “Well, Christopher Sterling II, if you want to get technical,” she said, and he grimaced lightly. She explained our motor home predicament and that Abilene and I would be living in the house for a while.
He smiled as we shook hands, but he afterward looked at his hand with a grimace of distaste. With good reason, I realized guiltily. I’d left fingerprint powder residue on his hand. He got out a clean white handkerchief and, frowning, rubbed at the smear. At the same time, when he said, “Do you really think it’s a good idea having someone live here? It’s such a rickety old place,” I could see that he wasn’t overjoyed with the news about our living in the house.
I figured I knew the reason, and it wasn’t a “rickety” state of the house. He was afraid we were of questionable character and were taking advantage of Kelli’s generous nature. Not an unreasonable assumption, I had to admit. Or maybe he was afraid one of us intended to fall down the stairs deliberately and sue for neck or back injury. After he stuck the handkerchief back in his pocket, he put a protective arm around her shoulders and looked at me. I tried to think of something to ease his concerns.
“Kelli and I haven’t discussed it yet, but I’m thinking we can do some cleanup work in the house in exchange for living here.”
He glanced at the dust-covered piano in the living room. “Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Although my own thought is that someone ought to just strike a match to the place and be done with it.”
I thought Kelli might be put off by that attitude toward a house that probably had some sentimental family value for her, but she just smiled tolerantly. “Chris isn’t into old. He’s always saying what Hello needs is a good computer and electronics equipment store, not another antique place selling more useless old knickknacks, dreadful lamps, and ugly jewelry.”
Chris was looking at me, and I had the feeling he was perhaps classifying me in there with all the other useless old antique stuff.
“Have you gotten Hiram’s office cleaned out?” he asked Kelli.
“I think so. Although he sometimes squirreled things away, so I’m not sure I have everything.”
“Yeah, I thought a lot of the old guy, but he was a little strange sometimes. You feeling okay now?”
“I’m fine.” With a glance at me she added, “I ate something a couple nights ago at the Russo that didn’t agree with me.”
I wanted to know more about Chris Sterling. I could see that he was tall, blond, and well built, his angular jaw and deep-set eyes handsomely sculpted. Although, as a complete package, he was a bit too Greek-goddish for my taste. I rather like some small imperfections. My friend Mac MacPherson’s knobby knees, for instance. And the blue motorcycle tattooed on Mac’s forearm has an unexpected appeal. No tattoos on Christopher Sterling II, I was sure.
Chris was well dressed in a dark business suit with light blue shirt and diagonally striped blue and silver tie, a bit more urbane than I’d have expected in Hello. I could also see from the way Kelli looked at him that she was probably in love with him.
Oddly, I felt a sense of protectiveness of my own. I barely knew Kelli, but I didn’t like the way the town seemed to have unfairly ganged up on her. This man seemed different, caring and concerned about her, but, with the disdainful attitude toward the house and that picky way he’d wiped his hand, did he deserve her love?
“I tried to call you at the office and home, but I couldn’t reach you. So I decided I’d run over here and check before I left town.”
“Is something wrong?” Kelli asked.
“No, I just wanted to let you know I can’t make it to lunch
I reached the foyer just as the guy stepped inside. He and Kelli greeted each other with a light kiss. Kelli introduced us—full name Chris Sterling. “Well, Christopher Sterling II, if you want to get technical,” she said, and he grimaced lightly. She explained our motor home predicament and that Abilene and I would be living in the house for a while.
He smiled as we shook hands, but he afterward looked at his hand with a grimace of distaste. With good reason, I realized guiltily. I’d left fingerprint powder residue on his hand. He got out a clean white handkerchief and, frowning, rubbed at the smear. At the same time, when he said, “Do you really think it’s a good idea having someone live here? It’s such a rickety old place,” I could see that he wasn’t overjoyed with the news about our living in the house.
I figured I knew the reason, and it wasn’t a “rickety” state of the house. He was afraid we were of questionable character and were taking advantage of Kelli’s generous nature. Not an unreasonable assumption, I had to admit. Or maybe he was afraid one of us intended to fall down the stairs deliberately and sue for neck or back injury. After he stuck the handkerchief back in his pocket, he put a protective arm around her shoulders and looked at me. I tried to think of something to ease his concerns.
“Kelli and I haven’t discussed it yet, but I’m thinking we can do some cleanup work in the house in exchange for living here.”
He glanced at the dust-covered piano in the living room. “Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Although my own thought is that someone ought to just strike a match to the place and be done with it.”
I thought Kelli might be put off by that attitude toward a house that probably had some sentimental family value for her, but she just smiled tolerantly. “Chris isn’t into old. He’s always saying what Hello needs is a good computer and electronics equipment store, not another antique place selling more useless old knickknacks, dreadful lamps, and ugly jewelry.”
Chris was looking at me, and I had the feeling he was perhaps classifying me in there with all the other useless old antique stuff.
“Have you gotten Hiram’s office cleaned out?” he asked Kelli.
“I think so. Although he sometimes squirreled things away, so I’m not sure I have everything.”
“Yeah, I thought a lot of the old guy, but he was a little strange sometimes. You feeling okay now?”
“I’m fine.” With a glance at me she added, “I ate something a couple nights ago at the Russo that didn’t agree with me.”
I wanted to know more about Chris Sterling. I could see that he was tall, blond, and well built, his angular jaw and deep-set eyes handsomely sculpted. Although, as a complete package, he was a bit too Greek-goddish for my taste. I rather like some small imperfections. My friend Mac MacPherson’s knobby knees, for instance. And the blue motorcycle tattooed on Mac’s forearm has an unexpected appeal. No tattoos on Christopher Sterling II, I was sure.
Chris was well dressed in a dark business suit with light blue shirt and diagonally striped blue and silver tie, a bit more urbane than I’d have expected in Hello. I could also see from the way Kelli looked at him that she was probably in love with him.
Oddly, I felt a sense of protectiveness of my own. I barely knew Kelli, but I didn’t like the way the town seemed to have unfairly ganged up on her. This man seemed different, caring and concerned about her, but, with the disdainful attitude toward the house and that picky way he’d wiped his hand, did he deserve her love?
“I tried to call you at the office and home, but I couldn’t reach you. So I decided I’d run over here and check before I left town.”
“Is something wrong?” Kelli asked.
“No, I just wanted to let you know I can’t make it to lunch
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