A Mile in My Flip-Flops (15 page)

“Oh…” I feel my spirits crumbling just like the wall. “How’d the door and window shopping go?” he asks more cheerfully.

I quickly give him the lowdown, and he nods with approval. “Sounds perfect. And don’t worry about this dry rot, Gretchen. It’s all fixable.”

“Why do they call it dry rot anyway?” I ask. “I mean, isn’t it caused by water? Why don’t they just call it wet rot?”

He smiles. “That’s a good point. But don’t worry, whether we call it dry rot or wet rot, we’ll get it whipped.”

“Yeah, but it’ll just take longer now.” I throw my arms to my sides. I feel like a whiny child, but this is so frustrating. “What if everything just keeps taking longer … gets more expensive … is harder to finish? What then?”

“You know, I’ve learned from certain experiences…over these past few years…” He stops now, as if he’s unsure he wants to continue. But that only makes me curious. I hate when people start to tell me something, then change their minds. It’s one of my pet peeves. And he looks now like he’s about to change the subject.

“What?” I persist.

He smiles. “Oh, it’s a long story.”

I frown at him. “You shouldn’t start to tell someone something and then stop like that, Noah. It’s not nice.”

“How about if I tell you about it later?”

“Yeah, right.” I give him a skeptical look.

“It’s just that I want to finish ripping this dry rot out before I quit for the day.”

I nod. “Actually, that’s a good thing. I’ll forgive you for leading me on like that.”

“And if you’re really interested in hearing my story, you’ll have to treat me to a cheeseburger for dinner.”

“A cheeseburger?”

“Yep.” He turns his attention back to tearing out Sheetrock. “I’ve been craving one for the past hour. Have you been to Henry’s yet?”

“You mean that new diner downtown?”

“Yeah. Want to try it out with me tonight?”

“And if I treat, you’ll talk?”

“That’s the deal.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Okay, I’m telling myself this isn’t a date, but I still want to run home and get cleaned up. “I’ll just need to go check on Dad first. Oh yeah, and Betty called.” So I fill him in on that as he works. “And I need to take Riley home. You want to meet at Henry’s?”

“Sounds good. I’m thinking around six thirty. Does that work for you?”

“I’ll see you there.”

Then I unload the rest of the things from the pickup, do a little more cleaning, and finally decide it’s time to take Riley back to my apartment, get in a shower, and check on Dad.

I
s it a date?” Holly asks as I towel dry my hair. She stopped by on her way home to pick up the present I was unable to take to Tina’s shower last week.

“No, it’s not a date.” I tighten the belt of my bathrobe. Okay, I honestly don’t think it’s a date, but I suppose there’s a little part of me that wishes it were. And that bugs me.

“But you’re going to spruce up a little, aren’t you?” she asks hopefully.

“
Spruce
up?” I laugh. “Who says that anymore?”

“My mom. And me.” She reaches over and gives my hair a fluff. “Anyway, aren’t you going to fix yourself up a little, Gretch?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Why?”

“Because, in case I haven’t mentioned it before…” She laughs. “You kind of let yourself go this past year and a half.”

“Thanks, Holly. With friends like you who needs—”

“I’m sorry,” she says, “but if your best friend can’t be honest with you, who can?”

I roll my eyes at her. “Look, I need to hurry, Holly. As it is, I’ll only have about half an hour with Dad. I can’t waste time fix—”

“Then get moving!” She grabs me by the arm and drags me into the bathroom, positioning me in front of the mirror. She quickly
digs through my weird assortment of cosmetics—mostly things that she’s talked me into buying since I’m not naturally talented when it comes to this sort of thing—and she starts having her way with my face. And I must give her credit, not only is she quick, but she’s good. Unfortunately, I’m not paying very close attention to her techniques. “You know, Holly,” I say as she finishes up with some powder blush over what I can only assume are my cheekbones, “someday you should teach me how to do this for myself.”

She laughs. “I’ve tried. You never listen.”

“Maybe if you wrote it down.”

But she pulls me into my bedroom and rips open my closet to forage for … for what? “You really need to go clothes shopping, Gretchen. Or else lose some weight.”

“Just keep the compliments coming, Holly,” I say sarcastically. “I needed that little ego boost.”

She turns and looks at me, then her expression changes. “Actually, now that I’m looking at you, I think you have lost weight,” she says.

“Okay, now you’re just messing with my mind—”

“No, seriously, you look thinner.” She pulls the scale out from where it’s tucked next to the cabinet, then forces me onto it.

I’m about to give her a piece of my mind, but I notice the number. “Hey, you’re right. I have.”

“See, don’t you feel better now?”

I stand up straighter. “Actually, I do.”

“It’s probably from giving up ice cream and working on your house project.”

“That and Dad’s heart attack. I haven’t had much appetite since he was rushed to the hospital.”

“So…” Holly pulls out a broomstick skirt that’s various shades of earthy greens and golds and holds it up. “This is pretty, and it should be no problem since the waist is elastic.”

“A skirt?” I frown at her.

“Yes, sometimes women wear skirts, Gretch.” She points to the bottom half of her light blue business suit, a knee-length, fitted skirt I could never wear.

“And it looks fantastic on you, Holly, but I am not—”

“Shut up. You’re wasting time,” she tells me. “Put on that skirt while I find a top.”

So, without arguing, I put on the skirt and submit to several tops until Holly decides on the moss green camisole topped with a pale yellow, sleeveless silk blouse and then adds a woven belt and jewelry.

“Voilà!” Holly proudly shoves me in front of the full-length mirror on my closet door.

“This is too much,” I tell her as I remove the beaded necklace. “Noah will think I’m trying too hard.”

“Spoilsport.” She puts on a pouty face now.

“It’s my life, Holly.”

“Well, you have to leave the rest, Gretchen, or I will give up on you completely.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have time to change it,” I tell her.

“What about shoes?” She rushes back to my room.

“That could be a problem,” I admit.

“How about those Michael Kors sandals that you got—”

“Riley ate one of them.”

“That bad dog. You need to break him of that.” She pulls out a pair of gold-beaded ballerina flats that I got at Target a couple of summers ago, back when Collin was still in the picture. “These will be perfect with that skirt.”

“And they’re comfortable,” I admit as I slip them on. “And now I gotta go.”

“And you’re welcome.” Holly picks up Tina’s package, then checks me out and gives me one last nod of approval.

“Yeah, thanks,” I say as I reach for my bag. “Tell Tina she can take that back to Pottery Barn if it doesn’t work for her.” I chuckle as we go out and I lock my door. “Don’t tell her that I didn’t even check her wedding registry. The glassware set is actually something I got awhile back but have never used.”

“She’ll probably hate it,” admits Holly.

“Probably.”

“Have fun on your date with Noah,” she calls as we part ways in the parking lot.

“Very funny!” I yell at her.

Dad whistles as I walk into his hospital room. “Well, look at you, Gretchen Girl. Let me guess… Big date tonight?”

I frown at him. “No, Dad, no date. And the only reason I look like this is because Holly insisted on dressing me.”

“My kudos to Holly. You should make dressing nice a habit.”

I sit down in the chair next to his bed and let out a discouraged sigh. “So, do I really look that bad … I mean, usually?”

“Well, honey, you can’t deny that you’ve let yourself go a little. Back before that nasty business with Collin, you were looking real pretty. Then after the breakup, well, you know how it’s gone.”

I nod. “I know. And that’s changing. I mean, I can say for the first time in a long time that I am over him. And doing this house… well, it’s like the world is opening up to me now.”

He smiles. “I hope so.” He reaches out and takes my hand now. “Call me old-fashioned, but I like my girls looking pretty.”

“Speaking of your girls, did you, uh, well, did Betty call?”

“She did.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Why?”

“Because I told her what happened…and you had told me not to.”

“Oh well, now that I’m on the mend there’s no reason for her not to know. And I made her promise not to cut her trip short.”

“I did too.”

“Although she admitted that she’s already wishing she was home. She’s afraid that six weeks is going to be too much.”

“Oh…” I try to imagine this. “Six weeks in Europe sounds pretty fantastic to me.”

“Not me.” He shakes his head. “Right now all I want is to be at home sweet home. I never knew how much I loved my little condo until getting stuck here.”

“It won’t be long, Dad.”

“So, you haven’t told me, Gretchen. What are you all dressed up for tonight? Or did you doll up just for your old man?”

“Oh, my outfit is just the result of Holly having fun. And
tonight I’m grabbing a cheeseburger at Henrys with Noah after a long workday. He had some thoughts on homebuilding he wanted to share with me.” It was only a half truth, but I thought it was my best effort at sounding casual and keeping his matchmaking at bay.

“Hmm… I’ll leave that one alone for now,” he says mischievously. “I’ve wanted to try out that diner myself. I asked Betty to go a couple of times, but she didn’t think it was a very healthy choice. But maybe while she’s gone, I’ll see if they deliver.”

“Dad,” I say in a warning tone, “just because you got some new pipes to your heart doesn’t mean you no longer have to watch what you eat.”

“We’ll see about that…”

I glance at my watch now and realize that it’s time for me to leave. “Sorry I can’t stay longer, but I told Noah I’d meet him at six thirty.”

“And so you shall.”

I lean down and give Dad a big hug now. “That’s from Betty. She told me to give you a big hug for her.” Then I kiss his cheek. “And that’s from me.”

“Thanks.”

“And you know what, Dad?”

“What?”

“I really like Betty.”

His eyes light up. “So do I.”

“And if she ever becomes a more permanent part of our family, I want you to know that it’s perfectly fine with me.”

He winks. “Thanks for your blessing, honey.”

I laugh. “Like you needed it.”

Now he looks serious. “I couldn’t be happy with someone you didn’t like, Gretchen. You must know that. You and I have been a pair for quite a long time now.”

I nod. “Yeah, like twenty years.”

“Well, you better run along. Don’t make Noah wait.”

“Yeah, he sounded pretty ravenous.”

“And I hope you have a nice evening. Noah is a good man.” He winks.

“Thanks, Dad.” I leave it at that. He just grins as I walk out the door.

Oh well
, I think as I head for the elevators.
If my poor, old, sick dad wants to be delusional, why should I spoil it for him?

It feels odd to be dressed up like this and driving Dad’s big four-wheel-drive, diesel, club-cab truck. But if anything, it makes this seem less like a date. And that’s a relief because, despite Dad’s wishful thinking, I do not intend to develop anything with Noah besides a good working relationship. I just can’t see it being anything but messy—considering all my objections—and I’ve been through enough mess already. Plus, I think it could cause problems with my house-restoration project. I’ve seen enough HGTV shows to know the strain that renovating can put on people who have been happily married for years. I can’t even imagine how it might complicate things if the couple was just starting to date. With all the ups and downs of romance, a relationship with Noah could be the undoing of my house flip.

Not that he’d even be interested. Good grief, who am I fooling here anyway? I’m sure Noah must have a flock of women—probably beautiful women—waiting in line for him. Maybe he’s already in a
serious relationship. And why am I even thinking about this in the first place? I guess I can blame Holly and my dad. They were trying to plant the wrong things in my head.

Why did I allow Holly to fix me up like this? It’s like a setup for a disaster. Noah will probably get the wrong impression, and I’ll end up totally embarrassed. And what’s new with that? If it wasn’t 6:29 right now, I’d zip back home and put on jeans and a T-shirt.

Then, as I park the pickup, I start to feel indignant. There’s no reason I can’t look nice if I want to. Dad’s absolutely right; I have let myself go for too long. And, like Holly always says, I could run into Mr. Right anywhere along the way. Wouldn’t it be better if I looked halfway decent when it happened? I think about the interesting guys I could meet while shopping for building materials. Maybe I need to “spruce up” for those times too.

As I walk across the street to the fifties-style diner, I wonder about the good-looking guy that Holly said owns Henry’s. I wonder if his name is actually Henry as I push open the door and go inside and look around. The place is fairly full, but I don’t see Noah anywhere. In a way that’s a relief because it will give me time to regroup and get my wits about me.

“Table for one?” asks a dark-haired guy wearing a red and white bowling shirt.

“Actually, I’m meeting someone,” I tell him. Then, remembering Holly’s encouragement, I smile directly at him. You just never know.

He returns my smile. “Have you been here before?”

“No, it’s my first time. But I’ve heard that it’s good.”

He nods modestly. “Well, I hope you’ll like it. We’ve only been open a month, so I really look forward to customer comments.”

“Are you the owner?” I ask as he leads me to a table toward the back.

“I am.” He pauses, waiting for me to slide into the shiny red booth.

“So does that make you Henry?”

“That’s right. Henry Barrett. May I ask your name?”

“Of course. I’m Gretchen. Gretchen Hanover.”

He sets the menus on the table and shakes my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gretchen. And welcome to Henry’s. I hope you’ll become a regular.”

“So do I.”

“Caroline will be your waitress, but can I get you anything to drink?”

I order iced tea, and just as Henry leaves the table, I notice Noah coming in the door. I’m relieved to see that he’s cleaned up too. He’s wearing neat khaki shorts and a light blue polo shirt. I wave, and he sees me and quickly comes to join me. Rubbing his hands together, he grins happily. “I’m starving.”