Must Love Flowers(22)

“Good,” Phil said.

“I appreciate your help.”

“No problem.”

“I do my best to help him,” Maggie said, glancing back toward the house, “but I just had to get away.”

Phil held Maggie’s gaze, letting her know he understood.

Maggie crossed her arms over her chest as though to hide the emotional pain she’d endured through the years.

“He talked about losing your mother.”

Maggie lowered her eyes. “Everything went downhill after Mom died. He changed a lot. He used to keep up the house with Mom’s encouragement, but after she died, he didn’t even try.”

Phil noticed Joan’s reaction to his comment. Her eyes rounded and she looked down and folded her arms as if protecting herself. He wondered what she was thinking, and if she was comparing herself to Roy, who had let his yard and life deteriorate. Phil wanted to tell her she was nothing like Maggie’s father, but he kept silent.

“My mother held everything together in our family,” Maggie whispered. “And with her gone, all that was right and good fell apart.”

Phil understood all too well what grief and heartache could do to a soul. He looked to each woman before he said, “I was happy to help, but I best head home.” Dinner was likely waiting for him.

“Again, I can’t thank you enough,” Maggie said earnestly.

“Yes, thank you,” Joan echoed. “You came to give me an estimate and went far and away beyond that.”

He shrugged off their appreciation.

He started toward his truck and turned back. “I’ll have that bid ready for you on Monday.”

“No need. Consider yourself hired.”

He nodded, grateful for the work and the opportunity to know both women better.





Chapter 10





On the drive back to the house, both Maggie and Joan grew quiet.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Joan said, glancing Maggie’s way. Her own musings were caught up in appreciation for Phil’s help. How he’d been willing to step in, even not knowing what the situation was. She wasn’t sure what might have happened if Phil hadn’t distracted Maggie’s father. Hearing what Maggie said about the changes in her father after her mother died had hit close to home. Everything seemed to have come to a head at once, and Joan realized she’d continued to carry her grief these last four years like a piece of luggage, hauling it with her through each day, refusing to release the burdensome weight.

“I’ll help you take your things up the stairs,” Joan offered, once they reached the house.

“Please, you’ve done so much already. I can handle this.”

Joan was more than ready to help. “I’m sorry I didn’t get around to moving Nick’s things out of the bedroom. I’ll see to that while you unload the car.”

“Okay.” Maggie offered her a weak smile. She remained in the car, her look pensive.

“Maggie?”

“I think I should visit my dad from time to time,” she murmured. “Just to see how he’s doing. Without me there, I don’t know what will happen to him.”

“That’s generous of you.”

Maggie’s eyes were sad. “He relied on me to take care of him, and I did my best. With me gone, he’s going to need to look after himself now. He might need a little encouragement now and again.”

Joan was impressed that Maggie, who had endured so much while dealing with her own grief over the death of her mother, would be so generous and compassionate toward her father, especially after the way he’d treated her.

“I understand now,” Maggie continued, apparently deep in thought.

“Understand?”

“He didn’t want me to become a nurse, always said it was too expensive, but deep down I think he knew that once I got my nursing degree I’d move away. I think he’s scared of being alone, and now that I’ve moved out, he is.”

Joan squeezed Maggie’s shoulder, letting her know she understood. “Visiting your dad isn’t a bad idea.”

Maggie nodded before opening the driver’s-side door.

They each carried a load as they approached the house. As soon as Joan unlocked the door, the scent of the roast in the Crock-Pot hit her, reminding her that dinner was ready. While working, she’d relied on that slow cooker for many a meal. Putting it to use again made her smile, as if this was yet another sign that she was on the right path, taking her own time to recover.

“Wow, that smells good.”

“As soon as we’re finished upstairs, we can eat.”

Maggie gave her a look of appreciation. “I can’t remember the last time I had a real home-cooked meal.”

For that matter, neither could Joan.

While Maggie collected the rest of her items from the car, Joan transferred Nick’s sports trophies into Steve’s old room. He had a couple posters on the wall, which she took down, along with a few other personal items. His dresser drawers were mostly empty. She found his high school yearbooks and a few video games, which were easy enough to deliver to the second bedroom. All in all, it took only a few minutes to clear his things out of the bedroom.

Maggie immediately went about making the area her own. The first thing she did, Joan noticed, was put up the picture of her and her mother. As best she could calculate, it was taken when Maggie was about seven or eight.