"Christ," I think to myself, "it's Ned-fucking-Flanders."I walk up to the door with my box of tools, suitably attired as a professional joiner, hard h...t, rigger boots and hi-vis vest, tool belt clinking as I walk with the hammer dangling at my side.Jim shows me through to the kitchen and shows me the work at hand.I nod, politely saying, "No problem mate, I'll have this done before the end of the day to which he replies, "Fandably doo!" I'm cringing at the choice of words used for appreciation. ‘Maybe she just wants to forget it ever happened.’ Faith’s eyes returned to the page. Bill stayed at the counter and gave her the once over. There were faint shadows under her eyes, similar to those he’d seen under his own in the mirror. Her dark, chestnut hair was still sleep tousled and he liked that she hadn’t tried to put on a false front. She wore an old flannel shirt underneath faded bib overalls. The clothes fit her personality — country comfortable. Her magazine fell to the side. ‘Why. More

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