wish—”
A female voice sounded behind them. “Mari Baker?”
Joe grabbed her hand and helped her pivot her legs to the floor. “That’s us.” She made to stand, but Joe scooped her up before she had a chance. “Hey, I’m not about to abandon you at the finish line.” He gave her a smile as she slid her arm around his neck, and she smiled back. Joe followed the nurse wearing teddy bear scrubs and deposited her in a wheelchair that she pulled out from behind the nurses station.
Heading back to the waiting room, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he was nowhere near the finish line with Mari Baker.
Chapter 8
It was nearly 11:00 before Joe carried Mari back inside her house. She had tried to tell him that the boot the doctor had given her was for walking, but he just smiled as he slipped his arms under her on the truck seat and insisted he had already missed a morning of work and hadn’t any more time to walk beside her at a snail’s pace. It was hard for Mari to object; his arms around her had almost been worth breaking her big toe.
As he once again settled her on her bed and fluffed the pillows behind her, she reminded herself over and over that he had a fiancée, and she was kissing Eli just yesterday, and by the time he left with a promise to send “one of the boys” over with lunch, she had shifted him in her brain to someone akin to her oldest brother Jerry, who had carried her back to the house on many occasions after a fall on her skates, doctoring her scrapes and cuts. That’s what I am to Joe; the little sister he never had.
And while Mari already had five brothers, she knew she could always use more.
***
Ben and Eli appeared within the hour with hot soup, breadsticks, and a six-pack of soda. They even brought a tray with fold out legs for eating in bed. Ben had the casual look of winter break in jeans and a sweatshirt, but Eli was far from it in black dress slacks topped with a lavender shirt and an artsy purple tie.
“So, you must be working out of the house today,” Mari observed, looking Eli up and down. So handsome.
“The meeting that was canceled yesterday has been rescheduled,” Eli explained as he handed her a napkin and utensils. “We need to get the Marshalls’ approval on my designs before we can get started on their ritzy apartment complex.”
“Do you guys only build big things like synagogues and apartment buildings? You don’t do houses?” Mari sipped her soup.
Ben jumped in before Eli could answer. “There’s better money in the big stuff.”
Eli looked perturbed as he sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “Unfortunately that’s the case, but from a design standpoint, it isn’t nearly as much fun.”
Ben sat on her other side. “All the houses look the same these days anyway. The developers don’t want different or interesting; they just want fast and easy.”
Eli looked across Mari to Ben. “Yes, but what if we got into the developing side of it? We could build really beautiful and unique homes with yards bigger than a postage stamp—whole neighborhoods that would add to the beauty of the city rather than degrade it. I think there would be a market for that. People are tired of cookie cutter living.”
Mari smiled. “My house is me and I am it. My house is where I like to be, and it looks like all my dreams.”
Both men looked at her quizzically.
She looked from one to the other. “You know, Mr. Plumbean in The Big Orange Splot.”
They looked at each other as if she’d lost her mind.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you guys never read The Big Orange Splot when you were kids.” She bit off the end of a breadstick.
Ben shook his head. “It’s not ringing a bell.”
Eli smirked. “Do you have it memorized?”
Mari finished chewing and swallowed. “Well, not the whole thing, but that line is kind of the theme.” She poked her breadstick at Eli. “You have to buy it and read it to your kids someday.”
Eli looked at his
A female voice sounded behind them. “Mari Baker?”
Joe grabbed her hand and helped her pivot her legs to the floor. “That’s us.” She made to stand, but Joe scooped her up before she had a chance. “Hey, I’m not about to abandon you at the finish line.” He gave her a smile as she slid her arm around his neck, and she smiled back. Joe followed the nurse wearing teddy bear scrubs and deposited her in a wheelchair that she pulled out from behind the nurses station.
Heading back to the waiting room, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he was nowhere near the finish line with Mari Baker.
Chapter 8
It was nearly 11:00 before Joe carried Mari back inside her house. She had tried to tell him that the boot the doctor had given her was for walking, but he just smiled as he slipped his arms under her on the truck seat and insisted he had already missed a morning of work and hadn’t any more time to walk beside her at a snail’s pace. It was hard for Mari to object; his arms around her had almost been worth breaking her big toe.
As he once again settled her on her bed and fluffed the pillows behind her, she reminded herself over and over that he had a fiancée, and she was kissing Eli just yesterday, and by the time he left with a promise to send “one of the boys” over with lunch, she had shifted him in her brain to someone akin to her oldest brother Jerry, who had carried her back to the house on many occasions after a fall on her skates, doctoring her scrapes and cuts. That’s what I am to Joe; the little sister he never had.
And while Mari already had five brothers, she knew she could always use more.
***
Ben and Eli appeared within the hour with hot soup, breadsticks, and a six-pack of soda. They even brought a tray with fold out legs for eating in bed. Ben had the casual look of winter break in jeans and a sweatshirt, but Eli was far from it in black dress slacks topped with a lavender shirt and an artsy purple tie.
“So, you must be working out of the house today,” Mari observed, looking Eli up and down. So handsome.
“The meeting that was canceled yesterday has been rescheduled,” Eli explained as he handed her a napkin and utensils. “We need to get the Marshalls’ approval on my designs before we can get started on their ritzy apartment complex.”
“Do you guys only build big things like synagogues and apartment buildings? You don’t do houses?” Mari sipped her soup.
Ben jumped in before Eli could answer. “There’s better money in the big stuff.”
Eli looked perturbed as he sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “Unfortunately that’s the case, but from a design standpoint, it isn’t nearly as much fun.”
Ben sat on her other side. “All the houses look the same these days anyway. The developers don’t want different or interesting; they just want fast and easy.”
Eli looked across Mari to Ben. “Yes, but what if we got into the developing side of it? We could build really beautiful and unique homes with yards bigger than a postage stamp—whole neighborhoods that would add to the beauty of the city rather than degrade it. I think there would be a market for that. People are tired of cookie cutter living.”
Mari smiled. “My house is me and I am it. My house is where I like to be, and it looks like all my dreams.”
Both men looked at her quizzically.
She looked from one to the other. “You know, Mr. Plumbean in The Big Orange Splot.”
They looked at each other as if she’d lost her mind.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you guys never read The Big Orange Splot when you were kids.” She bit off the end of a breadstick.
Ben shook his head. “It’s not ringing a bell.”
Eli smirked. “Do you have it memorized?”
Mari finished chewing and swallowed. “Well, not the whole thing, but that line is kind of the theme.” She poked her breadstick at Eli. “You have to buy it and read it to your kids someday.”
Eli looked at his
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