Page 11 of Frosted and Sliced

“But, how crazy are you?” Georgie asked. Somehow she thought Burke would respect her less, if she employed a filter with him, a good thing because she wasn’t good at using one. Being ostracized most of her life had made her bad at watching her words. Who cared what you said, when most people ignored you anyway?

“Pretty crazy,” Burke cheerfully replied as he stood back to inspect his tent. “There. That’ll do, for now. I assume you want a bathroom up here.” He waved around the cavernous opening in the center of the space. The Italianate Victorian manse had a roof that was dormered on all sides, so the center of the attic was clear for standing, but the sides were tapered.

“I have no idea,” Georgette replied. Her plans for the attic had been so far in the future that they felt like fantasy. For the last couple of years, she’d been intent on survival, on making the inn a viable and reliable income. Renovating a massive attic space would be both expensive and time and energy consuming.

“We’ll figure it out,” Burke replied.

She didn’t reply because she thought it probably wasn’t true. They wouldn’t figure it out, and why should they? He seemed like a drifter. Clearly he was going through something. What was the harm in letting him camp in her attic for a couple of weeks? Maybe he needed to clear his head, or his heart, and then he would move on and resume normal life. Certainly he wouldn’t begin a renovation project on the scale her attic would be. No one was that insane. In the meantime, maybe she could eke a few small repairs out of him. Unlike with the fantastical attic renovation, Georgie had an entire list of small repairs that needed done, some more urgent than others. She was only one woman, a woman who had no idea how to do anything besides bake and cook and clean. Her brother lent a hand occasionally, but he was busy with his job and she felt bad to ask for constant favors. When she needed something, she’d developed a trustyflowchart: first she tried it herself. If she couldn’t do it and it was simple, she asked Brody. If it was expensive, dangerous, or time consuming, it went on a hire-a-contractor list. That list was uncomfortably long and would remain so. Despite Burke’s brag that he was handy, she couldn’t ask him to do intricate plaster work, rehang windows, or repair rotting joists. Or anything electrical. Or plumbing. Or gas. Those repairs were best left to the professionals Georgette would someday hire, as soon as she had money and was able to find people to actually work. Their small town was short on skilled labor, like many places along the coast. Workers in bigger cities were often unwilling to make the drive to Hanset for small jobs like hers. But that wasn’t Burke’s problem.

Georgette realized she’d been staring into space for a while, thinking about her overflowing to-do list. When she snapped to, she was alone. Burke was gone. “Burke?” she tried, turning in a slow circle, in case he was behind her and she couldn’t hear him. The hollow attic space diffused and amplified sound, disorienting her. No matter, though, Burke was nowhere in sight. “So weird,” she whispered to herself. She turned to go and felt her phone vibrate with a new text. Smiling now, thoughts of Burke forgotten, she pulled out her phone and read the text.

Miss you.

Same,Georgie replied.

When can I come see you?

Georgie bit her lip and glanced at the attic tent.Soon.It wasn’t a good time, with a new tenant, but that wasn’t why she refused the request. The truth was that she was scared. Everything was so much easier in theory and over text, especially dating. The glance at her phone reminded her that she would soon be late for lunch. She put a little hop in her step, hurried to her car, and drove to the restaurant. The fact that her lunch companion was already there wasn’t an indictment,Georgie knew. Elyse often arrived early and worked at the café, preferring to vary her work-from-home routine by being near other humans.

“Getting a lot done?” Georgette asked as she slid into the booth across from Elyse.

“No, Cotton was here. He distracts me.” She said it with a smile, the sort of goofy smile shared by people in love. Was that how Georgette looked when she talked about her boyfriend? She might, if she ever talked about him. The guilt of not sharing that part of her life made her feel bad. Elyse was her closest friend, her only friend, besides Brody. Shouldn’t she be more forthcoming?

“What’s wrong?” Elyse asked, ducking her head to make eye contact, so she knew Georgette saw her lips.

“Nothing,” Georgette said, because hiding herself from prying eyes was so familiar to her, it felt more natural than being open.

Elyse raised her eyebrows, clearly disbelieving. She picked up her water and took a sip, waiting her out.

“So, Burke is living with me now. Gah,” she made the exclamation as Elyse comically spewed her water and held up a finger, coughing and choking.

“What?” Elyse rasped. “Burke?TheBurke?”

“Is hetheBurke? How many do you know?” Georgette returned.

“There’s only one,” Elyse assured her, taking another sip of water, this time to try and soothe her raspy throat.

“Then, yes, that one.”

Elyse made a come hither motion. “More details, Georgette. All of them. Are you…seeing each other?” Her incredulous face would have made Georgette chuckle, if she weren’t filled with her own dismay.

She shook her head. “Of course not. I don’t even know the man, and what I do know, I don’t like.”

“Oh, that’s definitelytheBurke,” Elyse inserted. “What on earth happened? Start from the beginning.”

“I don’t know where that is,” Georgette said helplessly. “He showed up at the top of the stairs, told me he’s moving in, and wants to be my new handyman.”

Elyse spewed water again. “Sorry, I’m going to set this drink aside until we’re done with this conversation. He said what?”

“He said he’s going to live in my attic and be my handyman,” Georgette replied.

Elyse stared at her, eyes squinted, mouth agape. “Georgette, that’s not possible.”

“That’s what I told him,” Georgette hissed. “The attic is a wreck, and it’s not like I can pay him.”

“That’s not what I meant. I was talking about Burke.”

“What about him?” Georgette asked.

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