“I’m afraid of it all falling apart. This house is all we have left of them.”

Nora squeezed her hand. “I know. I can see that. I recommend you cut coupons, skip frozen dinners . . . bake cookies and do some of the labor yourself to stretch the insurance money out. Then in the spring, after the winter does whatever it’s going to do and Austin is out of high school, you and I can sit back down and reassess.”

It all felt too easy. “You really think this is the best thing to do?”

“It’s what I’d advise my daughter if she were in the same situation.” Nora sat back, removed her glasses. “Have you even thought about what it is you want to do with your life? What you’d go back to school for?”

She rubbed the ache behind her neck. “That’s changed three times in the last six years. I keep waiting for some kind of inspiration to spark.”

“That hasn’t happened yet.”

She shook her head.

“Not surprising. You’re too busy living someone else’s life to plan one for yourself.”

The door to the garage opened and slammed shut. “What is that?” Austin called as he ran in from outside. He shot around the corner, backpack slid to the floor.

“Mrs. Hudson made us dinner.”

“I only got it started,” Nora told her. “Austin?”

“Yeah?” He was looking inside the oven.

“There is a bowl of cut-up vegetables in the refrigerator. I need you to put them on top of the roast at four. Everything will be done by five.”

“I can do that. Smells amazing.”

Nora leaned over and whispered, “Delegate whenever you can.”

Austin moved from the oven to the fridge. “Someone went shopping.” He reached in and grabbed an apple.

Parker wanted to ask if he was feeling well. “You didn’t have to buy us food,” she told Nora.

She stood and started gathering her things. “Accept when others want to help, my dear.”

Parker glanced at the bouquet on the counter. “You have to admit, the flowers are over the top.”

“Oh, they absolutely are.” She headed toward the front door, opened it. “But they weren’t from me.”

Parker lost her smile, doubled a look over her shoulder.

“I’ll call on you on Monday. Bring over some of my family-approved Crock-Pot recipes.”

They stepped out the door and onto the covered porch. Across the yard, Erin was getting out of her car with an armload of groceries. “Is that your tenant?”

“Yes. She’s nice. Quiet. I couldn’t ask for a better person to rent the place.”

“Good. I feel better knowing there’s another adult here with you. Even if it’s in the guesthouse.”

“I do, too, actually.”

Nora turned and opened her arms for a hug.

Parker happily returned the gesture. “Thank you so much.”

“Anytime.”

Once Nora was down the steps and to her car, Parker walked back into the house and straight to the flowers.

She found a card with her name on it. On the other side all it said was This is what “turning up the charm” looks like.

It wasn’t signed.

It didn’t have to be.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Colin waved at his mother as her car passed through the line of trucks.

Fabio stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest. “Was that your mom?”

“Yup.”

“Did she drop you off food or something?”

“Nope. She’s helping out Parker.” Saying her name had him smiling.

“Is she the only one helping out Parker?” He met Fabio’s leading question with silence. His phone buzzed in his back pocket.

A text from Parker showed on his screen.

The flowers are charming.

Points for me.

“Ah-huh.”

“What?” When Colin looked, Fabio was walking away.

He rocked back on his heels, a grin plastered on his face. Maybe by the following weekend, he could get her to go out with him.

Parker invited Erin up to the house for dinner since Nora had cooked a roast that would feed ten. For the first time in months, she set the table and made a salad to go with the meal.

She’d gone out on the property trying to locate Colin earlier, only to find out he’d been called away to another project in a different part of the city. She considered texting him but decided against it. He’d given her flowers and she’d thanked him. The ball was back in his court. Besides, going slow meant she didn’t need to talk to him all day long. That would be the opposite of slow. Much as she wanted to.

The weather had cooled enough for her to open up the house and let in some fresh air. The trucks had stopped for the night, and in the absence of the backup beeping noise, the crickets and nightlife started to come alive.

“Knock, knock,” Erin said from beyond the screen door.

“Come in,” Parker called from the kitchen.

“I brought wine.”

“Good.”

“It smells fabulous.”

Erin wore a sundress, her hair bounced around her shoulders. In her hand was a bottle of red. Parker didn’t know a lot about wine outside the two-buck variety at Trader Joe’s. It seemed Erin had much better taste. And the budget for it.

“I’d love to take credit, but it was Colin’s mom. I think she feels sorry for us.”

Erin walked in behind her. “Everyone on the street feels sorry for you.” She shook a small red can she held in her hand. “This is the gravy stuff I was telling you about.”

Parker read the label. “Bisto?”

“I came across it when I was in London. Never clumps, always spectacular.”

“You were in London?”

Erin opened her mouth, paused, and turned away. “Yeah, uhm . . . backpacking trip. Years ago.”

“That must have been amazing.”

“Yeah . . .” She looked around the kitchen. “Do you have a small saucepan?”

Parker pointed to the cabinet where the pots and pans were stored. “In there.”

While Erin rummaged through, it seemed she had no intention of talking about London. If she were reading the woman right, it appeared she wasn’t happy about mentioning it. Parker wanted to ask, but dropped the subject.

She removed a wine opener from a drawer and proceeded to uncork the bottle.

“Is it done yet?” Austin walked into the kitchen.

“Yes. Go get Mallory.”

Go and get didn’t register in her brother’s head. “Mallory! Dinner’s ready,” he yelled across the house.

She shook her head. “I could have done that.”

Erin laughed while she mixed the gravy.

They all worked together and brought everything to the table.

“So what did Mrs. Hudson come up with?” Mallory opened the conversation.

Plates moved around the table as they all dished up what they wanted. Parker explained what she was going to do. “. . . by summer things should even out and I’ll look for a better full-time job.”

“What about school?” Mallory asked before putting a forkful of pot roast in her mouth.