“Another hope chest. I can’t make them fast enough. Folks used to order coffee tables, end tables, even rocking chairs, but in the last five years, I’ve had more calls for these hope chests than anything else.” Jackson went back to sanding. “Pull up a chair and have a seat. There’s cold water and tea in the cooler if you want something to drink.”

“Thanks.” Flynn opened the lid to the red cooler and took out a bottle of water. He sat down in one of the old metal folding chairs over by the wall. “So you knew Nanny Lucy pretty good.”

“She and Uncle D. J. were good friends, so she kind of took me in because of him, and because she missed her family.” Jackson had often felt sorry for Miz Lucy, living over there all alone. She’d had her quilting buddies, gardening friends, and church family, but those were not family.

Flynn shrugged. “Life gets in the way.”

“Don’t I know it. I hadn’t been around to see Uncle D. J. in ten years until five years ago. I remembered some good times when I came to see him as a kid, so when I got burned out with the law business, I came out here—he’d gotten tired of it back when he was probably about my age,” Jackson said.

“Did you intend to stay when you came here?” Flynn asked.

“No, but he talked me into staying all weekend. The morning after I arrived, he took me to the shop and handed me a block of wood like this”—Jackson held up what he was working with—“and I sanded a chest of drawers he had built. That night I slept better than I had in years, and the next day we worked side by side from about eight o’clock until after five. I was hooked after that, and I never left. What about you? You going to stick around here? Miz Lucy said you had a good job with some oil company.” Jackson went back to work.

“I’ll be here for a few weeks, maybe longer,” Flynn answered.

“Ever done any sanding?” Jackson asked.

“Not on wood.” Flynn turned up the bottle and drank a third of what was in it.

“Want to give it a try?” Jackson wrapped a piece of sandpaper around a block and offered it to him. “See that box over there? It’s the beginning of a hope chest. Sand with the grain, but without too much pressure. You want a smooth finish, so it’s better to go over it several times rather than dig into the grain.”

Flynn stood up, crossed the messy shop floor, and started sanding. “Like this?”