She was up on a step stool at the corner of the frame, a hammer in one hand, driving a nail into a joint with three clean strikes. A woman who clearly knew how to hold a hammer, which Marcus noticed the way a man in construction notices these things. She had her sleeves pushed up and her hair pulled back and a pencil tucked behind one ear, and she was frowning at the joint like it had personally offended her. Marcus stood there, not sure whether to announce himself or back away quietly and pretend he'd never come. He chose wrong.
He shifted his weight, and a board under his boot creaked. The woman spun around, hammer still in hand. For a second, they just looked at each other. "You're not my father," she said. "No, ma'am. I am definitely not."
Marcus put his hands up slightly, unthreatening. "I'mโI'm looking for Harold. He around?" She came down off the step stool, slowly sizing him up. The hammer lowered, but not put down. She had sharp eyes, the kind that took a man's measure in about 2 seconds and filed the results away.
"He's inside getting more nails." She tilted her head. "Who's asking?" "Marcus. Marcus Johnson." Something shifted in her face.
Recognition. And then something that was almost, almost a smile held back. "Oh," she said. "You're him." "I'm him?"
"You're the man my father found on the side of the road yesterday." She set the hammer down on the frame, now wiping her palm on her jeans and crossing her arms. "He wouldn't shut up about you at breakfast. Marcus this, Marcus that. The one man left in America with any decency."
"I was starting to think he made you up." Marcus felt his face get warm. "He'sโhe exaggerates." "He does," she agreed. "About everything. Once told me he built the tallest building in Savannah."
"It's four stories." She studied him a beat longer, and then finally the held-back smile got loose. "Emily. Emily Bennett." "Emily." Marcus nodded.
And because he couldn't help himself, because there was something about the way she'd been standing on that stool with a pencil behind her ear that made the joke come out before he could stop it. "So you're the daughter he didn't warn me about." Emily laughed. It surprised both of them how easy it came. "He warned you about me?"
"He mentioned you were coming into town." Marcus rubbed the back of his neck in a let's-call-it-an-unsuttle way. "Oh God." Emily closed her eyes. "He didn't." "He very much did."