needs to feel useful. Thank you kindly.”
She nodded, not sure what he meant, but glad to know that this wasn’t a one-sided endeavor.
“I’ve got to run, but I’ll be back this evening. Save some pizza for me?”
She shrugged, biting away a smile. “That’ll be up to them.”
He nodded. “Sure enough.”
~~~
On Monday morning, Tasha woke up, made coffee, fed the pup, got dressed, and headed to her Subaru by the side of the road. The sea beyond the cliff was calm, and admittedly, so was she. The guys had done as promised and more. They’d discovered more than missing shingles when they’d climbed up on her roof on Saturday; they’d found some rotted boards too. The day had been warm and dry for November, so they spent the hours tearing out the damage and replacing what needed replacing with new materials. And when they were done with that, they’d celebrated by hanging Christmas lights for her.
She’d had two nights of peaceful sleep since. And some generous portions of humble pie.
“Morning, Tasha,” Mr. Cho called as she pressed the unlock button on her key fob. He slowed his long, tall strides, even as Courtney attempted to prance on past her, aloof as ever.
“Good morning to you as well,” she called to him.
“I see you’ve had some work done,” he said.
She stopped. Hillary and Lucy, a couple of women in her old office, talked nonstop about all the work they’d had done—lip augmentation, lipo, butt lift—she’d heard it all. But she took another look at Mr. Cho and realized—he was talking about the roof. Tasha stifled a laugh. “Yes. Fixed some leaks!”
The speed-walking couple she’d yet to meet rounded the incline, the wife in front. Mr. Cho gave her a salute as she huffed on past with her intense eyes and low-hanging jowls. She didn’t respond.
Her husband, however, slowed on approach. His beagle pulled and coughed, stretching the leash taut, but the man stopped. He nodded at Mr. Cho, peered at the cabin’s new roof, then gave Tasha a smile that was neither unfriendly or gregarious. “Had quite a crew out here over the weekend,” he said.
Until now, she hadn’t realized that her home had been on display.
She nodded and spun her keys around her fingers. “That’s true. I’m Tasha, by the way.”
“Jim,” he said, simply. He put a hand in his pocket and rocked on his feet. She imagined him sticking around to chat about the intricacies of the roofing project, something she didn’t know much about nor have time to discuss.
“Nice to meet you, J—”
“Jim!” His other half was bellowing at him from several cabins beyond hers, most of them empty second homes.
He gave her a placating smile that she couldn’t have been able to see, then waved her on to continue without him. “My wife—Helena—she’s always in a hurry.”
Mr. Cho crossed the small street, Courtney darting troubled eyes at him. “Jim,” he said, “how’s the manufacturing business, neighbor?”
Jim turned to Tasha. “Cho and I live a few houses apart. Hardly see each other, though.” He pointed toward the hill across the canyon. “I’m up there, beyond your back deck. Mine’s the white house with dormers.”
“That’s a pretty house.”
“Thank you. Anyway, Cho here and I haven’t talked in”—he turned back to Mr. Cho—“how long has it been now? Months?”
Something foreboding crossed Mr. Cho’s face. It reminded Tasha of sorrow.
“Yes, six months now,” Mr. Cho said. His expression remained grim, and though Tasha needed to get to work, something in the downward tug of his eyes made her want to stick around.
Jim pursed his lips. “I suppose you’ve buried yourself in work. That’s understandable under the circumstances. We should’ve—well, we should’ve stopped by more often. We’ll make a point of that.” Jim cast a wary glance to his wife’s back. She had nearly disappeared from view.
“Don’t worry yourself,” Mr. Cho said. He flashed a sad smile
She nodded, not sure what he meant, but glad to know that this wasn’t a one-sided endeavor.
“I’ve got to run, but I’ll be back this evening. Save some pizza for me?”
She shrugged, biting away a smile. “That’ll be up to them.”
He nodded. “Sure enough.”
~~~
On Monday morning, Tasha woke up, made coffee, fed the pup, got dressed, and headed to her Subaru by the side of the road. The sea beyond the cliff was calm, and admittedly, so was she. The guys had done as promised and more. They’d discovered more than missing shingles when they’d climbed up on her roof on Saturday; they’d found some rotted boards too. The day had been warm and dry for November, so they spent the hours tearing out the damage and replacing what needed replacing with new materials. And when they were done with that, they’d celebrated by hanging Christmas lights for her.
She’d had two nights of peaceful sleep since. And some generous portions of humble pie.
“Morning, Tasha,” Mr. Cho called as she pressed the unlock button on her key fob. He slowed his long, tall strides, even as Courtney attempted to prance on past her, aloof as ever.
“Good morning to you as well,” she called to him.
“I see you’ve had some work done,” he said.
She stopped. Hillary and Lucy, a couple of women in her old office, talked nonstop about all the work they’d had done—lip augmentation, lipo, butt lift—she’d heard it all. But she took another look at Mr. Cho and realized—he was talking about the roof. Tasha stifled a laugh. “Yes. Fixed some leaks!”
The speed-walking couple she’d yet to meet rounded the incline, the wife in front. Mr. Cho gave her a salute as she huffed on past with her intense eyes and low-hanging jowls. She didn’t respond.
Her husband, however, slowed on approach. His beagle pulled and coughed, stretching the leash taut, but the man stopped. He nodded at Mr. Cho, peered at the cabin’s new roof, then gave Tasha a smile that was neither unfriendly or gregarious. “Had quite a crew out here over the weekend,” he said.
Until now, she hadn’t realized that her home had been on display.
She nodded and spun her keys around her fingers. “That’s true. I’m Tasha, by the way.”
“Jim,” he said, simply. He put a hand in his pocket and rocked on his feet. She imagined him sticking around to chat about the intricacies of the roofing project, something she didn’t know much about nor have time to discuss.
“Nice to meet you, J—”
“Jim!” His other half was bellowing at him from several cabins beyond hers, most of them empty second homes.
He gave her a placating smile that she couldn’t have been able to see, then waved her on to continue without him. “My wife—Helena—she’s always in a hurry.”
Mr. Cho crossed the small street, Courtney darting troubled eyes at him. “Jim,” he said, “how’s the manufacturing business, neighbor?”
Jim turned to Tasha. “Cho and I live a few houses apart. Hardly see each other, though.” He pointed toward the hill across the canyon. “I’m up there, beyond your back deck. Mine’s the white house with dormers.”
“That’s a pretty house.”
“Thank you. Anyway, Cho here and I haven’t talked in”—he turned back to Mr. Cho—“how long has it been now? Months?”
Something foreboding crossed Mr. Cho’s face. It reminded Tasha of sorrow.
“Yes, six months now,” Mr. Cho said. His expression remained grim, and though Tasha needed to get to work, something in the downward tug of his eyes made her want to stick around.
Jim pursed his lips. “I suppose you’ve buried yourself in work. That’s understandable under the circumstances. We should’ve—well, we should’ve stopped by more often. We’ll make a point of that.” Jim cast a wary glance to his wife’s back. She had nearly disappeared from view.
“Don’t worry yourself,” Mr. Cho said. He flashed a sad smile
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