A shadow hung over the corner where Melody stood making it hard to determine her expression. Flustered might be the best description since her right hand rested at her chest holding her heart in place.
“I was,” she started, shrugged her shoulders and tried again. “I was trying to make the chair less noticeable. Roy took a lot of pride in his garage. He wouldn’t appreciate a chair like this right in the middle of it.”
A thought occurred to him as she spoke. All the tools were in place in their numbered outlines. There was a key for it, but after a while, it wasn’t needed. The woodworking tools were expensive, but they were all there. Could have sold them or lent them out to friends, but she hadn’t.
His hand rubbed his aching neck. Carried his troubles in his neck and back according to the physical therapist, he definitely had his share. It sounded like she was trying to preserve the house exactly the way Roy liked it. “You do know that Roy isn’t coming back? He’s not going to check to see if the garage is in tip top shape.”
He heard her sigh, almost felt it. “Yes, you’re right.” She covered her face with both hands for a heartbeat, then dropped them. “I am not sure what I am supposed to do so I kept doing what I did when Roy was alive, except for the caring of him, of course.”
“No wild parties, skinny dipping or orgies on the front lawn?” He asked, knowing the answer, but her shocked expression amused him.
Her hand fluttered back up to her heart. “Good heavens, where would you get that idea? As a hospice nurse, I’ve several patients. Most of the time, I’m gone.”
That tidbit of information would make life easier if they weren’t running into each other all the time. Apparently, all he did was scare the daylights out of her. Half the time she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. The other times she reminded him more of a wildcat, an angry one.