“See?” Jerry sounded triumphant. “That’s too big an age difference. Plus Peter lives in Bellingham. The drive would be at least three hours, maybe four.”

“He’s a good guy,” Howard insisted. “An entrepreneur.”

“He owns a yard mowing service.”

“It’s a landscaping company. They’d have a lot in common.”

Jerry snorted. “Leave the girl alone. She’ll find the right guy on her own. She doesn’t need us butting into her business.”

“I’m not butting, I’m offering to help. Unity, am I butting in?”

Unity put Howard’s initials next to the backed-up drain and Jerry’s by the new shower fixture.

Only then did she turn toward the two seventysomething men who worked for her—part-time, of course. Because being retired didn’t mean a person wasn’t busy. Something she’d learned in the past three years. She had a team of five men working for her—all well over the age of sixty-five, all good at their jobs. Sure, there were times when they couldn’t move as fast as someone younger, but they were skilled, careful and thorough. She would rather the job took a little longer, but was done right. Besides, most of her clients were at the Silver Pines retirement community, so they appreciated having handymen of a certain age around. As for Howard’s youngest and his recent divorce, just no.

She smiled. “You’re not butting, Howard, but I’m also not interested.”

“You haven’t met him yet. What if he’s everything you’ve been looking for?”

Unity shook her head. Three-plus years after Stuart’s death, she wasn’t the least bit interested in finding a replacement.

“I’m sure he’s wonderful,” she said kindly. “Just not for me.”

“It’s because he’s too old, right?” Jerry asked hopefully. He turned to Howard. “I told you to stop butting in.”

The two men were fast friends. They both had gray hair, wrinkled faces and slight beer bellies. Howard was a little taller, but still shorter than Unity. She was five-ten and, as more than one of the old ladies at the retirement community had remarked, a strapping girl. Broad-shouldered and sturdy. In high school she’d been on the swim team and had almost made it to the state championships. These days her exercise program came with her job. There was plenty of bending, lifting, dragging and reaching. Maybe she wasn’t the media’s idea of a beauty, but she didn’t care. Stuart had thought she was pretty and that was enough for her.

She wrote down the addresses of the jobs on two pieces of paper and handed them to the guys. “Keep track of your hours and parts, please,” she told them. “I’m heading over to help Dagmar this morning. You can reach me on my phone if you need me.”

Jerry shook the note. “If you got a real phone, you could text us the address. And you could get one of those apps to keep track of our hours and the parts we use. Paper is so last century.”

Howard rolled his eyes. “He has an e-reader, so he thinks he’s all that.”