Second Chances by Nicole Andrews Moore Page A

easily be broken, probably because she was used to hurt.  He sank deeply in his seat.  He really needed to ponder what he had seen.  This could change everything.

 
     
    It was their second day living together, one day before Hannah would be expected to report to Gavin’s office for work.  She felt the need to accomplish as much as possible in what time she had.  Rising early, she showered and woke the girls for breakfast.  To her delight, there was plenty of food in the kitchen.  Normally on a Sunday, she would cook a big breakfast, eggs, home fries, toast or cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate.  She smiled.  There would be time for that next week.  Now she had to grab some cereal and head to the nearest Lowe’s or Home Depot.
     
    There were at least a few items that she knew she needed immediately.  Walking purposefully around the store, she picked up the spackle she would require to fix the holes, some sand paper, and the spackle spreader thingy.  So what if she didn’t know every tool’s proper name.  She had watched enough home improvement shows that she knew what she was doing.
     
    Finally, she and the girls were in the area that she knew would require the greatest amount of time: the paint department.  Initially she had hoped to go with something that reminded her of the beachfront homes she had cleaned as a teenager in Wilmington, but she knew Gavin’s house was far too formal for her to simply wainscot the walls and paint a shade of pale sky blue.
     
    Frowning, she thought about how this room should be Gavin’s.  If she did a nice enough job on it, maybe he would be able to use it when she left.  Smiling, she picked a tinted Venetian plaster.  She’d make this room grand enough to be the master bedroom as it was intended.  Confident in her choice, she moved to the next aisle and found curtain rod assemblies and…curtains.  After a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond she’d really be in business.
     
    As she went through the check out, however, she began to fill with one nagging doubt.  She wasn’t entirely certain of her ability to install the plaster. 
     
    “Wow,” the woman running the register exclaimed, “I’ve heard this can be a bit tricky.  Are you doing it yourself?”  She gestured to the plaster.
     
    Biting her lower lip, Hannah answered, “I’m not really sure yet.”
     
    “Well,” the woman began, “when in doubt, call in an expert.”  And with a flick of her wrist she had directed Hannah to the expert board where craftsmen posted business cards attesting to their given skills.
     
    Selecting one, Joe, she studied the card.  He claimed to be an expert at a variety of trades, including…working with the plaster in question.  Glancing at her watch, Hannah decided that any craftsman worth his salt would be taking calls by ten on a Sunday, unless of course, he was at church.
     
    The payphone rang twice before he picked up.  And as soon as he was given the address and the impression that there was a lot of work to be done if he gave a fair estimate and was ready to start that day, Joe agreed to meet her at the house after lunch.  Everything was moving along very smoothly.  In fact, the only downside she could see was that she hadn’t actually been given a budget by Gavin, or any money.
     

     
    Pacing the study was becoming an ugly part of his life.  Or at least it had since she moved in.  There, he was finally working up to some anger.  That’s what he needed.  How does she take off with the girls and not leave a note or any indication where she was going or when she would be back?  A permanent scowl seemed to have taken residence on his face.  She had no cell phone, so he couldn’t call her.  She had a vehicle that he suspected was unreliable at best.  What if she broke down?  Did she even have this number in case of an emergency?
     
    Just as he seemed likely to wear a path in the hardwood floor, he heard the sound of the front door opening and the