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little paint,” he volunteered. “Maybe a few new shakes for the roof.”
    Elsie looked at him sideways. “Cut the baloney. What do you think it really needs?”
    â€œA lot of paint. It has to be scraped and primed, then painted. It needs an entire new roof, new aluminum gutters, and all of the shutters need to be rehung.”
    â€œSo, you’re in the construction business,” Elsie said. “I suppose you got ladders and paint scrapers and such. Why don’t you stay for supper. We’re having meat loaf.”
    Lizabeth groaned. “Aunt Elsie, that’s not very subtle.”
    â€œI’m an old lady. I don’t have to be subtle.”
    Matt grinned. “Meat loaf sounds great.”
    Elsie looked him over. “You a bachelor?”
    â€œYup.”
    â€œYou could do worse,” she said to Lizabeth.
    Lizabeth glared a warning at Elsie. “He’s my boss !”
    â€œHe make a pass at you yet?”
    Lizabeth felt her ears burning.
    â€œI knew it,” Elsie said, turning back to the house. “Supper’ll be ready at five-thirty.”
    An hour later Matt sat on the porch steps and reviewed his findings with Lizabeth. “The toilets are easy and inexpensive to fix. You can do them right away. I have some rollers and brushes you can borrow, and for a relatively small amount of money you can paint the interior. You can do it one room at a time, if you want. The floors are going to need a professional. You have a new water heater, and the furnace doesn’t look half-bad. That’s on the plus side.”
    â€œSomeday, this house is going to be beautiful,” Lizabeth said. “I’m going to paint it yellow with white trim, and I’m going to plant flowers everywhere.”
    Matt leaned against the railing and closed his eyes. He was jealous of her, he realized. She had two kids and a wacky aunt, a dog, a cat, a house she loved. She had a future that was filled to the brim with life. Somehow, he hadn’t fashioned that for himself. He lived in a rented town house, all alone. And he built houses for other people. It had always been enough, but right now it seemed depressingly deficient.
    â€œLizabeth, your house is beautiful now. It will always be beautiful. It doesn’t have anything to do with paint or plumbing or petunias. Your house is beautiful because you’re beautiful.”
    It was a full minute before she could respond. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. It was the most perfect compliment she could imagine. Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit into her lower lip. “Thank you.”
    â€œOh damn, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
    â€œI’m very emotional. It’s one of my faults.”
    It was the sort of fault he could get used to, he thought. You would always know where you stood with her. She was guileless.
    Jason ran across the lawn after a softball. He swept it up and threw it to his brother. “You want to play with us?” he asked Matt. “We need a pitcher.”
    â€œDo I get to bat?”
    â€œSure, you can be up first, but you’ll never get anything off of Billy. He stinks as a pitcher.”
    Matt took the bat and knocked it against his rubber-soled boots a couple of times. He shuffled his feet and practiced his batter’s stance. He looked Billy in the eye and sethimself back for the pitch. “Okay, Billy Kane, give me your best shot,” he said.
    Billy slow-pitched him an underhand bloop. Matt smiled and swung, enjoying the feel of connecting with the ball. It was a perfect line drive, fast and hard, and zoomed straight as an arrow to Elsie’s Cadillac, where it shattered the passenger-side window.
    There was a full minute of silence.
    â€œYou’re a dead man,” Billy said. “She’s gonna kill you.”
    â€œQuick, get the baseball,” Jason said. “We’ll tell her a meteor did it.”
    The