Saving the Lantern House did not automatically save Walker's Auto. Frank Dwyer still wanted to retire, and the developer's offer for the shop block remained on the table. But when the nonprofit decided not to sell its corner property, the redevelopment proposal lost the continuous access it required, and the buyers withdrew rather than redesign the entire project. Frank visited Ethan a week later carrying a new lease agreement and an expression that suggested he had been thinking about the matter longer than he admitted.
"I'm not getting any younger," Frank said. "And you can't keep running a business one month at a time." Ethan waited, bracing for the worst. Frank handed him the papers. "Three-year lease, option to negotiate a purchase, rent increases written down where you can see them. You get your arrears caught up over six months, and I get to stop listening to real estate agents promise me the moon."
Ethan read the agreement twice before speaking. He did not pretend the terms were easy, or that he could pay the arrears without working hard. But there was time now, and a price he could plan around instead of a deadline that moved each time somebody else changed their mind. He shook Frank's hand and promised to keep the building in better condition than he found it.
That evening, Hope asked why her father was smiling while washing dishes. Ethan told her that the Lantern House was going to stay and that his repair shop would not have to move in the spring. She stood silently for a moment, as though making sure she understood, then asked whether Miss Rebecca would still be there on Thursdays. He said yes, and Hope nodded with enormous satisfaction.
"Then can I ask another question?" she said. Ethan turned off the water. "Of course." She looked at him carefully. "Do you think Ms. Evelyn might come over for dinner sometime, even if our table isn't number one?"
Ethan had been thinking about Evelyn more often than he admitted. He thought about her beneath the Lantern House awning, her coat wet from washing dishes and her face tired but peaceful. He thought about the way she had listened to Carla, apologized for the photograph, and stayed for the dull parts of the work after the gala lights were taken down. Most of all, he thought about how she made it easier to speak about Mara without feeling that he needed to apologize for still missing her.
"I could ask her," he told Hope. The little girl considered that. "You should," she said. "And we can have the good cookies. Not the ones you burn."
Evelyn accepted the invitation, but Ethan insisted on making the evening simple. They ate baked potatoes, chicken cooked in the old cast-iron pan, and green beans that Hope pushed around her plate until Evelyn confessed she had disliked them at six, too. Hope gave Evelyn a tour of the house, explaining the telescope, the paper planets above her bed, and the painting of the red pickup she had made for her father's birthday. She also showed her Mara's photograph in the hallway without embarrassment.