Page 5 of Just A Little Love

“That’s true, especially if structural issues are involved.” I tried to sound as sympathetic as possible.

“Yeah, that’s why every developer who comes by hoping to buy me out says the same thing. It’s a triple lot, so they are literally peeing themselves at the prospect of being able to buy it.”

“Have you considered selling one of the parcels to raise enough cash to fix the house?” It seemed like an obvious solution to the problem.

“It can’t be divided according to the will, so all or nothing. I think my uncle knew I'd look into selling one of the lots as the first option to fix the house. He wanted me to sell it and go live my best life. As much as he loved me, he couldn’t understand why my best life was here. Uncle Tobias didn’t sell it himself because he wasn’t able to part with it either.”

I nodded with understanding while Rory valiantly tried to blink back his tears. My daddy's heart was breaking for him. Men were absurd about tears, especially in public, and I appreciated the momentary trust he put in me. Fuck the bullshit. The situation called for tears. If I understood nothing else, it wasn’t about the house. Not really. This was about holding on to his uncle. An uncle that Rory obviously loved fiercely.

Rory’s sniffles had become louder, and I grabbed some napkins from the dispenser to stuff into his hand. Without comment, he mopped at his eyes and tried to blow his nose quietly. I did the only thing I trusted myself to do—sit quietly and give Rory space to cry. After a minute or two, Rory took a few shuddering breaths with his head hung low.

“I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous. Someone filed a health and safety complaint, so a city code inspector came out a while back. She inspected and found the house wasn’t technically habitable because of pipe and foundation violations. The city allowed me two months to finalize an approved action plan. Thankfully, they signed off on me staying in the house while I worked on the repairs. If I don’t address the issues, the city will declare it uninhabitable. If that happens, I'll be forced to sell. I can't afford to fix up anything and pay rent somewhere else. I haven’tbothered to call a contractor because I don’t have the money to fix it, regardless of what they say.”

“This may be a foolish question, but is getting help from your family an option?” Rory shook his head almost immediately and cradled his hands around his cup.

“My parents do okay, but they don’t have the money the house would need to be fixed properly.”

I had to strain to hear Rory’s soft words but gave him a quick and, hopefully, encouraging smile. “I forgot to ask what you do.”

“It’s good that I love my job because the pay is lousy. I’m a history lecturer at City College. My teaching focus is medieval European history, but I also do short seminars for return-to-school working adults.”

“So you’re a professor?” Rory shook his head before I finished my question.

“No, a lecturer since my highest degree is a master's, and I have zero interest in publishing articles for research journals.” Rory did the cutest little shudder. “The pay really is shit, but I love my job. A lot of our students are nontraditional. It’s the most incredible feeling ever to see how proud they are of their hard work and when they start believing they can be successful at school. It’s super-duper cool. If my focus was on publishing and tenure, I wouldn't have the same level of satisfaction.”

As if his enthusiasm for his job was too much, Rory struggled to meet my gaze and cast his eyes downward. His hands had been resting around his mug, but now he’d twisted his fingers around each other. His knuckles were white, and he’d pulled the skin taut. It looked painful, and I couldn’t watch it anymore. I reached across and laid my hand across Rory’s fingers. He jerked his head up and gulped as if he was about to speak but ultimately stayed silent.

“Before we go too far, let me see the paperwork. To be clear, you own the house outright, correct?” I clarified in what, I hoped, was a gentle tone. Rory emphatically nodded yes. “Hey, drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.” I nudged the mug over to him, and he picked it up with both hands before taking a giant swallow, promptly making him choke.

“Don’t keel over at the table. It will interrupt my reading, and I haven’t eaten yet. Wait until later, okay?” I smiled when I said it, prompting Rory to give one in return. He had a smudge of chocolate on the side of his mouth, and I reached over to wipe it off myself. At the last moment, I caught myself and handed him the napkin instead. His softly spoken word of thanks was barely audible, but at least he wasn’t still trying to twist off his fingers again. I wasn’t sure if he caught my mistake.

Margaret interceded in our unintentional staring contest when she brought our food. When the plates hit the table, I reached over and unrolled Rory’s napkin for him. I placed the utensils next to his plate and an additional napkin within easy reach. He caught me this time. I blushed and fiddled with my roll of silverware like a fool. “Sorry, I forgot where I was for a second.”

At my words, Rory’s gaze laser-focused on my left hand, and I knew he was looking for signs of a ring. His inspection wasn’t nearly as secretive as I was sure he hoped. I couldn’t hide my chuckle and held up both hands for him to see. “Not married and no children, but I do know something about little ones.”

“You must come in handy at parties.”

I gave a soft laugh and said with a sad shake of my head, “I haven’t been to one of those in forever. I keep meaning to go to be sociable, but something comes up at the last minute, and it doesn’t happen. The one I’m supposed to attend on New Year’s Eve is non-negotiable, though.”

By mutual agreement, we put the paperwork aside to concentrate on dinner. Rory told me about some of his favorite moments at his job, and I shared about my upcoming project. He was passionate about his students; his face lit up when he spoke of their accomplishments. Rory’s voice had a soothing quality I bet his students appreciated. He made everything sound like he was telling a story. My evening had taken a left turn I hadn’t expected, but I was here for it.

When our stomachs couldn’t handle more food, I returned to the paperwork. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” Rory sat quietly and shredded a napkin into a series of piles while I went over the documents. The paperwork wasn’t well-organized, but it was enough to get a snapshot of the current situation.

“Rory, this will be a challenge.”

Pain immediately clouded his pretty green eyes. I wanted to comfort this boy—whoa, not a boy, and certainly not my boy.

Shut up, self.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Rory asked with owlish eyes.

“Well, it’s not good. The pipes and electrical are out of code and must be replaced. The foundation is problematic because of where it’s situated on the bluffs. Given how the anonymous complaint reads, I’d bet money one of those developers made an educated guess based on the age of the house and exterior cracks.”

Rory took a deep breath. “How much do you think it will cost to fix it?” His tone was so hopeful it broke my heart to be honest with him, so I ignored the question.

“It appears your uncle took steps to preserve it. He started an application for a city grant, which would help a lot if approved. The grant's focus is on saving homes in already established historical neighborhoods. I doubt it would cover everything, but it would cover a decent chunk. This part isn’t my personal area of expertise, but I’d be happy to help with the application. And by help, I mean put my assistant on it. Nico is a genius at permitting and navigating regulations.”

Rory sniffled. “That’s okay, and I appreciate you looking at the papers. I can’t afford your fees.”

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