Page 187 of Hidden Nature

“I don’t consider that settling. Once you get the upper porch done beyond your doors to nowhere, put out some chairs, tables—and you’ll want flowerpots—”

“Will I, though?”

“Yes, you will. You can tap my mom on what you’ll want there. Her gardening tips are also gold. Think how nice it’ll be to have morning coffee out there.”

“It’s a plan. And doing this now means I can start enjoying that in a few weeks instead of a few months.”

She walked to the window and his view of lake and mountains, saw it with the rustic wood porch, the all but invisible rails. Maybe a couple of Adirondack chairs, a wine barrel table, add a bench, distressed, she decided, for more seating, a pair of chunky pots spilling and spiking with flowers.

“It’s going to be fabulous and worth every minute of the work. I hope you’ll carve out time to do some of the exterior work on my not spectacular but cozily charming place. I ordered the supplies today.”

“Yeah, we’ll make time. Come down, tell me about it.”

She turned to look at him. “I’m getting used to telling you about things.”

“That’s gotten to be a two-way street.”

“Want to hear about the maid-of-honor dress I picked out a few days ago?”

“Absolutely not.” He took her hand. “Tell me about windows and siding over a glass of wine.”

When she went down with him, she detoured from the wine and straight into the dining room.

“You finished it! The table, the room. Oh, the table’s just gorgeous.”

Because he’d learned preheating was an actual thing, he turned on the top oven. “Your mom sort of cooed over it. You’re more a purr.”

“Really? Whatever. You need more chairs, but these three are great. Not matching, but coordinating.”

“Exactly what Elsie said. And since I’m not planning any dinner parties, I’m taking my time with chairs.”

“Good warm wall color.” She nodded in approval as she wandered the room. “Not really gray, not really green. The Federal crown molding makes it. And the big window brings in the woods. You did a hell of a job on cleaning up this old iron fireplace. It looks old and dignified instead of old and ugly.”

“It took some sweat. Mostly Robo’s, and for some reason, he enjoyed doing it.”

“Robo’s got the bug now,” she murmured as she scanned the room. “You need the right art, interesting candlesticks for the table, maybe a big wooden bowl—unless you’re going to do fresh flowers for the table every week.”

“I am definitely not doing that.”

“I thought not. But you absolutely need a buffet, a big server-type deal.”

“It’s in the shop. Needs refinishing.”

“I want to see!”

The oven dinged.

“I’ll put the fries in, then we can go out.”

“Good enough. I want— Wait! Your office? Did you finish that, too?”

It added something, he realized, to have someone so genuinely enthusiastic about the changes.

It added more, he realized as well, that the someone was her.

“You know where it is. Go take a look.”

After he put the fries in, set the timer on his phone, he went to find her.

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