Hard Beat

Chapter 27

So many emotions course through my veins as I get out of my car and walk toward the quaint little clapboard house on Elm Street. And I can’t help but feel now as I did last night sitting and watching the house that it doesn’t fit the Beaux that I know. None of it. She’s all hard lines and fiery edges and not a postage-stamp-sized patch of grass in the front yard in need of mowing, petunias in the planters, and a porch swing that sits a tad crooked.