« Hello, I’m Harold, » he said. « Your dad and I used to fish off that dock back there. He talked about you all the time. He mentioned you’d get the house. »
« Samantha, » I said, walking over to shake his hand.
« And that barefoot tornado is Olivia. »
« He talked about you all the time. »
« She’s a keeper, » my new neighbor said with a smile.
He nodded toward the porch.
« That railing’s about ready to give up on life. I’ve got tools. You just say the word. »
« You don’t have to do that. »
« Retired contractor, ma’am. If I don’t fix things, I go stir-crazy. »
I laughed, and some of the tension eased.
Continue on the next page:
