to do it.
He approached the rocking chair and placed a hand on its backrest.
“I bought this place after Helen died.”
Helen.
His wife.
He rarely spoke his name.
“I thought it would keep me busy,” he continued. “The property was cheap because the house needed more work than common sense would have warranted.”
“That’s just like you.”
“THANKS.”
“It wasn’t entirely a compliment.”
“I know.”
He looked around him.
“For almost three years, I fixed things whenever I felt like it. The roof one month, the plumbing six months later. Sometimes, I didn’t even touch it.”
His gaze fell upon me again.
“Then I met you.”
Something inside me froze.
He continued before I could reply.
“You started talking about your knees. Then you told me your mother had finished
