Free A House by the Side of the Road by Jan Gleiter Page A

wouldn’t worry,” said Meg. “I mean, as long as you don’t grab at her. Mike was dumb enough to try that, and dogs don’t like that from strangers. I think she’s the live-and-let-live type.”
    Christine stretched her legs and yawned. “It’s so peaceful here. It’s peaceful at my house too, during the weekdays anyway. But to live like this. I can’t imagine.”
    â€œWanna trade? Like I said, your husband’s cute.”
    Christine’s brows drew together in thought. “Nah, I’d get too lonely.” She glanced at Meg. “Won’t you?”
    â€œNot planning to,” said Meg. “Alone seems just fine to me. Sit down; I don’t mean you.”
    â€œSo tell me about the guy.”
    â€œWhat guy?”
    â€œ The guy. The one that makes alone seem fine to you. Tell me about him, if it’s not too nosy of me to ask.”
    So Meg told her about Jim, about how he had the world’s most beautiful smile, about how he’d made her laugh. “He was a honcho at the office where I was an underling. One day, we were at a meeting, across the table from each other. And down at the other end, the VP for marketing was sharing his vast knowledge about the attitudes of the masses or, as he called them, ‘the great unwashed.’ I glanced over at Jim. He looked at me; and, so quickly that I wondered if he’d really done it, he crossed his eyes.”
    She demonstrated. “Nobody else saw it, but I nearly choked. Under his well-cut suits and all the solemnity about the sacred bottom line, he had a goofy side and the ability to … not take himself and the world too seriously. I really liked it.”
    â€œSo what went wrong? Working together?”
    â€œNo. I couldn’t take the frustration and all the maneuvering that was part of being a businesswoman. It’s a whole lot like being in high school. I quit. Jim and I were fine for a while. He’s an appealing guy. He loves animals; he loves children; he loves movies; he loves going out for doughnuts in the middle of the night. He also loves women and doesn’t really see much point in changing that noun to its singular form.” She shrugged and glanced at Christine, who was looking sympathetic.
    â€œHe … what? He’s a womanizer?”
    â€œOh, no. No, he’s not. That would have been easy. Dump the jerk. No, he’s just not someone who has any desire to settle down. He never pretended anything else, never lied. At least, not that I know of. He’s not a bad person. He’s just … who he is.”
    â€œNot the marryin’ kind, ma’am,” said Christine in an exaggerated drawl.
    â€œOh, pooh. I didn’t care if we got married. I just wanted to take him for granted.”
    â€œYeah.” Christine looked wistful. “That condition has gotten a bad rap. It’s a lovely way to live.”
    â€œBut it wasn’t going to happen, and when I finally realized that, I had to get him out of my life.” She stretched her arms wide and sighed deeply. “And now he is.”
    â€œAnd you’re ready to move on.”
    â€œI already have.”
    Jack’s red pickup came slowly around the curve and emitted three short honks as it passed. Both women waved.
    â€œSo you’ve met our local artist,” said Christine. “He’s a sweetie.”
    â€œArtist?” asked Meg, her eyebrows rising. “I figured him for a carpenter, or a farmer maybe.”
    â€œWell, you were right. He is a carpenter. He’s also a painter. Went to a fancy art school. He has paintings at some galleries, I think.”
    â€œWhere?” asked Meg, thinking how much she’d like to see them.
    Christine shrugged. “Don’t know. The point is, he says he’d rather build things. He works a lot with Dan, does terrific stuff. When Jack frames in a wall, you kind of hate to cover it up with