About the Author: Marcelle Dubé writes mystery and speculative fiction novels and short stories. She is the winner of the 2021 Crime Writers of Canada Award of Excellence for short fiction. Her short stories have appeared in a number of magazines and anthologies.
Luke ran his hand over the top of the credenza he was sanding. It was a bigger piece than he was used to crafting and took up more of his woodworking shop—which used to be his stand-alone garage—than he liked, especially with the six chairs in various stages of completion stacked along one wall.
Even though the early October morning was chilly, he kept the garage doors open. He didn’t want to be trapped inside with all that dust.
The wooden garage was old-fashioned, with double doors that had to be opened and closed by hand. It stood behind the house and to the side, at the end of a long, straight driveway that hugged the house. He parked his pickup in front of the garage and Annie parked her Bronco at the side of the house, near the wide spot, so he could get around her if he needed to.
He heard steps on the gravel outside and turned to see Annie walking around the pickup toward him in her no-nonsense navy slacks, flat shoes and red wool blazer. She came in and stood looking down at the credenza, her long, straight dark hair cascading down her back, her brown eyes lively with interest.
“It’s looking good,” she said.
Luke couldn’t help it. He grinned. He was pretty sure approval from his wife was what kept his heart ticking.
“Thanks, honey. You off?”