Tonight they had something in the slow-cooker that Evelyn had left for them. Paige lifted the lid and sniffed. Chicken, potatoes, onions and rosemary... Mmm.
"When was Evelyn here?" she called.
No answer.
She frowned. The house was quiet. Too quiet. This place had been Power Tool Central since she and Lyle had moved in.
"Lyle?" She wandered down the hall, trailing her hand along the chair rail he'd mounted to separate the painted portion of the wall from the papered one.
The bathroom still smelled of epoxy and paint beneath the potpourri she had left there, but it was bright, clean, finished and empty.
So was his bedroom. It smelled of paint too, and faintly of sawdust, despite the new carpet she'd vacuumed yesterday. He had moved all the furniture back into the room, including the Four-Post Pioneer Sterling had brought home for the king mattress Lyle had been using. It was a little crowded, but clean. Lyle's paint-stained work clothes were gone, along with his spy novels and the loose change from the top of the dresser.
Huh.
He didn't have any work left, so what was he doing?
He didn't have any work left.
She checked the window in the master bedroom, the hall-closet door, the bricks in front of the fireplace, the tap on the kitchen sink. All the repairs were done.
And there was a duffel bag beside the back door.
She glanced out the new kitchen window and saw his cars were gone, the fence was gone, and he was almost-
"Ly-yal!" She ran out the back door.
He stood on their old yard, staring at the blackened heap that was all that remained of their childhood home. He'd picked through it for the few tools he'd been able to salvage, but they'd mostly been reduced to an estimate he was submitting to the insurance agency.
The grass was cold, but not wet. She tip-toed across it in socked feet, arms crossed against the windy, cloudless afternoon.
"No need to get Golden Boy all in a dither that you're out without a jacket. I was coming back to the house. My truck's that way." He pointed toward Sterling's driveway.
"You're leaving? Why?"
"To get away from you two sex fiends. Give the man a break, Pidge. He's losing weight."
"Shut up," she laughed, blushing, then sobered, heart skidding in her chest. "Where are you going? To see Dad?"
"No. Those two gotta be having sex by now, don't you think? I definitely don't need to hear that. Nah, I don't know." He shrugged and his long shadow shifted against the pile of debris. "I'll let you know when I get there."
She didn't return his self-deprecating smile. "But... why? When did you decide this?"
"The other day, after my court appearance. I'm free to go anywhere I want so I will. I'm not going on a bender. Quit chewing off your lip. I just want a change of scenery. You know what that's like."
Too well, but her feet weren't as itchy as they used to be. She'd been comfortable in the communal routine of sharing work and meals with Sterling and her brother. When he was sober, Lyle was funny and focused and acted like he worried about her. When Zack came by, they all played cards. It was like having a normal family. She liked it.
And living with Sterling.... If Lyle wasn't here... Pressure built in her throat.
"Have you talked to Zack?"
"I'm going there now. He'll be fine with it. And Brit doesn't want me here." He pushed his hands into his pockets, troubled, but not deeply troubled the way he had been. Just sad. Deeply, deeply sad. "Cam'll step in easier if I'm not here."
"Cam will come around, or not, in his own time. It's nothing to do with you. It's not fair to make you leave."
"I want to go, Pidge."
But she didn't want him to.
"What about when the audit is finished? Don't you want-"
"I don't care. Honestly. Anything that's supposed to come to me you can give to Brit for Zack and-" The baby. He cut himself off, bent and picked up a stray nail, stared at it a long moment, then threw it toward the pile of rubble.
He was worried about the birth. "Lyle-"
"Did I hassle you this bad when you left for Seattle? ‘Cause I don't remember doing it."
"I'm not hassling you. I'm going to miss you."
~ * ~
Sterling came into a quiet house.
Strange. Paige's shoes were here so she was probably bracing a board for Lyle or holding a tape measure. Maybe they were in the garage since he couldn't hear them squabbling. His knee-jerk reaction was to play peacemaker, the way he would with his parents, but he was learning their snarky ping-pong was their way of connecting so he'd stopped interfering.
Setting down the inventory files he'd brought home to discuss with Paige, he went to the sink for a glass of water, looked past the plants and the dangling crystal that Paige had loaded into his kitchen window, and saw Lyle and Paige outside, talking, heads down.
Something in their body language stilled his heart.
It looked like Paige was wiping tears, nodding at whatever Lyle was saying, head still hanging.
Sterling took a step toward the door, concerned, and noticed the duffel beside the door.
Oh.
He stepped back to see out the window and watched Lyle take Paige's shoulders. He said something else that made her nod then pulled her into a bear hug that lifted her off the ground. When he set her back on her feet, she turned her back to Sterling's house, looking at where her own had once stood, and used the heel of her hand on her cheek.
Lyle walked toward Sterling's house with tough determination in his step. He came in the back door and shouldered the duffel. "We gotta do the hugs and kisses routine, too?"
Whatever it takes to keep you here, buddy. This was going to hit Paige really hard, especially on the tail of the call from Grady the other day. He was staying in Palm Springs for the foreseeable future. Far from being pulled back to Liebe Falls against her will, she was losing reasons to stay.
"Where are you going?"
Lyle shrugged. "I'll see how far the money from selling my cars gets me, then find a job. The invoice for the work I did here is on the table. Make the check out to Britta."
Sterling nodded. He pulled out a business card and scrawled on it.
"If you get as far as the Carolinas, check in with Patty. She'll let you into my house. You could get it ready for me to sell."
Lyle pocketed it without looking, jerked his chin toward the table. "There's a sketch there, for an addition to this house, for when you need another bedroom and a second bath. You could raise the whole works and put a floor underneath, but you'll need an architect for that."
Sterling looked out at Paige, solitary in the fading sun.
"Knock her up," Lyle urged.
"‘Cause that's working out so well for you?"
Lyle guffawed. "Fuck, you're an asshole. I'm gonna miss you, G.B."
Sterling grimaced and rubbed the middle of his chest where an ache was splitting his sternum. "You're her biggest reason for staying."
"Oh, Christ. Invent a new one. Tell her you've got a problem at the factory and only she can solve it."
Sterling shook his head. He wasn't going to emotionally blackmail her, no matter how much he'd like to.
"She lives for being needed," Lyle insisted. "Your problem is, you come across too self-sufficient. She thinks you can get by without her. Let her know you'd be a drooling mess if she left."
Sterling wished he could deny it. All he managed was, "Are you still here?"
Lyle grinned, gaze knowing. "Treat her right or I'll come back and kick your ass again." He offered a lazy salute and walked out the front door.
~ * ~
Normally, Paige would press her firm's date stamp onto the financial statement and sign her name, but today she only signed on the line that said ‘partner.' She smoothed her hand over the flat, stapled, squared pages, taking a moment to enjoy the high of completion, even though her satisfaction was stained with melancholy.
"Paige?" Olinda came to the door of her office. "What did the insurance adjustor say?"
"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just that the police haven't finished their investigation so they're only paying out for Lyle's tools for now."
"To who?"
"Lyle."
Olinda tsked and folded her arms, glanced at the report in front of Paige. "Is that the audit? It's done?"
Paige nodded, smiling. Proud. Pat me on the back.
"How much?"
"Olinda," she protested, frowning.
"Well, that was the point, wasn't it? To arrive at a figure?"
But this statement represented so much more. Now Sterling had a clear starting point and could make truly informed financial decisions moving forward. They'd housecleaned the inventory, both physically and on paper. The accounting procedures had been sharpened. New computers and software were planned before year end.
Pulling this statement together had drawn Paige into the factory's inner workings, giving her a stake in its success. To cash in like this statement was a traveler's check felt wrong.