Four Friends Read Free Page B

he had a sweet face, engaging smile and twinkling eyes. He might be considered a tad overweight, but Andy thought he looked a lot like a college football coach, or maybe a farmer—large and solid. Robust and cheerful. One of the reasons she’d hired him for the job, besides glowing recommendations, was his delightful disposition. She had trusted him to be alone in her house the moment she met him and after spending many hours together during the measuring, selecting and purchasing for the renovation, they almost qualified as friends, though she knew very little about him. He seemed the kind of man who’d give comfort well. She pictured him with a happy grandchild on his knee. “I’ve been separated for a long time,” he told her.
    “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
    “Nah, it’s okay. It’s been years now. My wife moved out and neither of us has bothered with a divorce.”
    “Oh. What if one of you wants to get married?”
    “Nah, I doubt it. Well, if she wanted a divorce, I’d be happy to split the cost with her, no problem. So you see, legally I’m married, but not really.”
    “Children?” she asked.
    “Unfortunately, no. It was a brief marriage, an uncomplicated split.”
    Andy held her cup up to her lips. “I guess you must be over the worst of it by now.”
    “Oh, yes,” he said, applying the crowbar to the baseboard and with a hearty pull, separating it from the bottom of the cupboard.
    “Well,” she said, pushing herself off the counter. “I have things to do.”
    “Mrs. Jamison?” he asked. “I’m having a Dumpster delivered in two days for the scraps and trash. The new cabinets are in the shop, the tile is ready for me to pick up and I’ll keep moving here as much as possible. If you’d like, I’d be happy to work weekends on the kitchen.”
    “Bob, you work anytime it’s convenient for you—just let me know when so I’m not trying to throw a costume party when your saw’s running, all right? Leave me a note or message on my voice mail saying when you’ll be here next. The quicker the better, huh?”
    “I have a couple of hours in the evenings,” he offered.
    She shrugged. “Fine with me.”
    “It’ll go a little faster that way.”
    “I don’t have anything to do but go to work every day and get a divorce,” she said.
    His face looked pained. “Oh, Mrs. Jamison, I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “Actually, I think it might be a positive change. Bob, would you mind calling me Andy? Please?”
    “Sure. Anything you want.” Then he tilted his head and smiled. “Short for Andrea?”
    “No. Short for Anastasia. My father is Greek. Know what it means?”
    “Can’t say I do.”
    “One who will rise again,” she said.
    He gave a friendly nod. “And of course, you will.”
    She took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “I just hope it’s not again and again and again.”
    * * *
    Gerri spent a couple of hours in her Mill Valley office. She only did the occasional home visit now. As a supervisor her job was administrative, overseeing other case workers and their files in addition to a million other things from paperwork to hiring and firing. She’d spent many a night and weekend working at home and in the field, still had to be on call for emergencies with families at risk, so taking the rare long lunch was definitely not an issue with the director. She headed for San Francisco. She could use just an hour with Phil. She’d get an update on city dramas and politics, tell him about her morning with Andy. When she was troubled about anything, she turned to Phil, her best friend. No one could give her a reality check and reassure her like he could, and she was able to do the same for him.
    * * *
    When she stepped into the elevator in Phil’s office building, she saw that his administrative assistant, Kelly, was standing there, looking at her feet. “Hey,” Gerri said. “How’s it going?”
    Kelly looked up and the second their eyes connected, hers welled up. She