The old man’s eyes were actually damp. “I can’t thank you enough. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, Miz Yoon, tell me right away.”
“It was my pleasure.” Mira turned to leave, clearly needing a break.
“What kind of music do you listen to?” Eli asked Henry Dale, as Iris followed Mira.
“I only have five tapes left; got rid of the rest years ago. Still got…Jim Croce, Johnny Cash, Aretha Franklin, Rush, and Dolly Parton.”
Iris overhead Henry Dale’s reply as they reached the foyer, then she said to Mira, “I hope that didn’t tire you out too much.”
“More than I was planning for, but I could see it meant a lot to him, and he doesn’t strike me as someone who easily asks for favors.”
Iris smiled then. “You’ll fit in perfectly here.”
* * *
The next day, Eli worked with Henry Dale on sanding the porch.
After getting proof that tech witches could renovate a house with magic, he’d expected the older man to be glum, as that might make it seem as if all their hard work was a waste of time. But Henry Dale gave no sign of such thoughts; he was listening to his Walkman as they worked, lost in his own world.
Music often had that effect, possessing the power to transport a listener to a certain moment in time. For instance, whenever Eli heard “Bad Moon Rising,” he remembered the little dance his father did when he was making pancakes, using the spatula as his microphone. He had even fewer memories like that of his mother, but he did recall his mom singing “Ojos Así” while making picadillo for the family.
They were both so young, not much older than I am now. Sobering thought. With effort, he put those thoughts aside. Eli was prone to brooding and “being morose,” as Liz put it. Should be hearing from her soon.
Better to think about their varied cooking styles. Gamma preferred ABBA when she was making culinary masterpieces like Kraft blue box and barbecued chicken legs. As for Eli, he hummed while he cooked, usually whatever song was currently earworming him.
That’s right. Live in the now. Finish the porch.
Since they couldn’t sand and stain only the boards they’d replaced without it looking like patchwork, they’d opted to refinish the entire porch. Hopefully, they could wrap up sanding and waterproofing today, before the rain. Tomorrow, it would be staining, which should dry before the weather got even colder.
Wonder what Henry Dale will propose next.
By anyone’s standards, Eli had done enough at this point. Hell, Iris didn’t even recall the moment of kindness that had changed his life. Yet curiosity kept him here, almost like the universe was nudging people in Iris’s direction, slowly helping her realize her dreams. But that made no sense, even less than the family who’d driven however many hours to tell her that she didn’t share their blood. And recalling that conversation annoyed him all over again.
“You’re looking mighty sour,” Henry Dale observed. The orange-foam headphones were around his neck now, signaling his readiness to talk.
“I was just thinking about Iris’s so-called family.”
Henry Dale curled his lip. “Sally had a lot to say on that subject as well. But I just have the one comment to make.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re all misfits. And that makes us Iris’s new family. Do your best, son.”
Son. That word put his father back at the forefront of his mind. In ten years, he’d be older than his dad was when he died. Wild, unwelcome thought. He pushed it back into the box marked SHIT I DO NOT WANT TO THINK ABOUT, smoothly sanding the wood as if his life depended on it.
“I will,” he said quietly.
Later, after he showered to scrub away the fine wood dust, Keshonda called to say there was an offer on Gamma’s house. The couple had their financing in order, so everything looked good up front, but it was best not to count the coinage until everyone signed the papers.
“I’m fine to pay closing, as it’s their first home. They can schedule the inspection whenever. Thanks for your hard work,” he said.
“That’s my job. I’ll relay the good word to the other agent,” Keshonda answered.
To his surprise, Iris knocked on his door as he was getting dressed. Heightened senses told him it was her even through the wood; he recognized her movements, the sound of her breathing, and even the faintest hint of the lotion she used. Probably best not to mention any of that.
“What’s up?” he asked, throwing the door open.
She froze, her cheeks flushing bright as a red carnation. Belatedly, Eli realized that he hadn’t buttoned up his shirt, but it would be weirder to slam the door in her face now. He maintained a neutral expression, carefully examining the possibility that she liked what she saw as he toweled his hair.
“Um. Yeah. It’s tonight. You should… I mean. Put on your shirt all the way and find some shoes. Are you still going?”
That made remarkably little sense, even for Iris.
He stared at her. “What?”
“We agreed to do those ballroom dancing lessons together! I paid for everything and signed us up online. The first class is tonight.”
Ohhhh. Holy shit, this is happening.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize. Give me fifteen minutes and we can go.”
She pressed a hand to her head, pretending she’d been about to faint. “Oh thank God. I would’ve been upset to waste that money. It’s not like I’m rolling in it, and I keep bartering with people.” Quickly, she added, “Not that I regret those decisions, but—”
“Things are tighter than you expected currently.” She didn’t need to explain her situation to anyone, least of all him.
Her smile widened, showing a hint of dimples. “Yeah. I finally earned a payout from my shop, but it’s not much.”
“Yet,” he said.
“Anyway, I need to get changed too. Wait for me downstairs, okay?”
“Right, yes.”
Eli got ready quickly, dressing as he would for a date in dress shirt and slacks with shoes that he hoped were suitable for ballroom dancing. He tried looking it up on his phone, but the search told him all about dance sneakers, which he didn’t own. So he went with dark tennis shoes, hoping for the best. He found Iris in the front room, and oh lord, she had on the prettiest dress, all floral and swirly. Chunky, strappy heels on her feet, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, mink-brown shot with gold, and her eyes, gray as a stormy sea. His heart went wild in his chest, just gazing at her. Maybe she’d imprinted on him when he was young or something because nobody else ever made him feel this way, and he had no idea what to do about it.
“Have fun,” Sally called. “I’ll make sure the old man eats something.”
“Don’t call me that. You’re not much younger than me,” Henry Dale snapped.
Leaving them to bicker, Eli grabbed his keys from the bowl near the front door and headed to his truck. He hurried to open the passenger door for Iris, not realizing it might seem strange until she shot him a weird look as she hopped in.
“Thanks?” Her tone made it clear she was confused, though.
Don’t mess this up.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, offering a smile that he hoped didn’t look strained or nervous. Sometimes when he focused too hard on looking happy, it came out seeming more like a grimace of pain. Getting photos taken had been nonstop fun. He could still hear Gamma saying, “Eli, no! Stop making that face. You look like someone is pinching you.”