As Tara looked over to see Ally leaning her head back with her eyes closed, Tara’s heart ached for her daughter. She looked tired. Worn out. Much like Tara had looked after finding out about Harry. Even though she’d been the one to end things with Jason, Tara had a feeling Ally was hurting more than she let on.
With the sun shining and the sound of the water, they’d fallen asleep sitting in the chairs. Tara stretched as Ally woke.
“I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
Ally stood and yawned.
“I feel so much better.”
“Good. I needed a nap. All that cleaning wore me out.”
They walked back to the house, catching up as they went.
“Let me help you bring your things inside. There are two bedrooms for you to choose from. We share a bathroom, though I’m planning to have another added.”
“I don’t mind sharing.”
Both the backseat and trunk were packed full of Ally’s things.
“Where’s are your furniture?”
Ally shrugged. “The landlord ended up buying everything from me. He had family moving in and they didn’t have much stuff.”
She grinned. “I had to fit my plants in the car.”
Tara stacked two boxes on top of each other to carry them inside.
“The bedrooms are sparse right now, but this way you can decorate the room however you want.”
Ally decided on the front bedroom.
“I like the view with all the trees. I can’t wait to see how it will look in the fall when the leaves change color.”
“Why don’t we use the middle bedroom as a workspace? We can purchase a pull-out sofa for when your sister or brother visit.”
Tara set the boxes on the floor. There was an old white iron bed, two white nightstands, and an old pine armoire. When Ally said she was coming, Tara purchased a mattress. Her daughter brought pillows, bedding, and towels with her.
Ally dumped an armful of clothes on the bed.
“Christina won’t care if she sleeps on the sofa, but what about Evan and Emily? I don’t think he’ll like the sofa bed in the workspace.”
They talked as they made trips back and forth from the car.
“I’ll give Evan and Emily my room. I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa as long as your sister doesn’t still snore.”
Tara wiped her hands on her shorts.
“Later on, I thought I’d turn the attic into a large bedroom suite or some kind of workroom. It spans the entire house.”
She smiled at her daughter.
“But first, I have to find a job.”
“You and me both.”
While Ally unpacked and settled in, Tara went outside to pick strawberries. She’d noticed a patch of the small wild berries when she was walking around the property the other day. For dessert tonight, she’d mash them with a bit of sugar and pour them over the vanilla ice cream she’d picked up in town.
Now, what to make for dinner? Something easy, maybe quiche? Tara pulled out the pie crust and checked the refrigerator to make sure she had everything she needed.
“I’m going for a run. After sitting so long in the car I need to move.” Ally changed into a pair of jogging shorts and a bright yellow tee shirt.
“Have fun. I thought we’d have quiche for dinner, and strawberries over ice cream for dessert.”
“Sounds perfect. Can we eat out on the back porch?” Ally tied her shoes and tucked her phone into her armband.
“Absolutely.”
When Ally left, Tara turned up the music, dancing around the kitchen as she made dinner. It was good to have her daughter home, to have someone else in the house with her so she didn’t feel so lonely.
After Ally returned and showered, she set the table. Instead of candles, they put two camping lanterns on the porch. Tara found them in the garage of her old house when she was packing up to move.
As the sky turned orange, purple, and pink, they talked about the cottage and the grounds. There was an overgrown orchard and several plots that must have been gardens at some point.
“You cooked, so I’ll clean up.”
Ally gathered up the dishes, taking them inside as Tara leaned back in the chair, listening to the frogs.
When she came back out, she had a bowl of ice cream for each of them.
“I might have licked the bowl. Those strawberries are delicious.”
“We’ll have to plant a strawberry patch. I want an enormous garden.”
Tara took a bite, letting the flavor explode on her tongue.
“I’d love to have a garden and lots of flowers.” Ally stared out at the water as the evening deepened into night.
By the time they went inside, both of them were yawning.
Tara locked the doors.
“There aren’t any curtains yet. I’ve been calling this place the glass cottage. I guess when Frida lived here, there weren’t as many houses as there are today.”
Tara shivered.
“The thought of people looking in here at night gives me the creeps.”
“Me too.”
Ally picked up one of the drop cloths.
“I brought my sewing machine. Between the two of us, we can make curtains for the house with these.”
She nodded as she looked through a pile on the kitchen counter.
“Here it is.” Tara held up a spool of ribbon.
“I thought we could edge the curtains in this ribbon. It’s black grosgrain.”
“That’s a great idea. I’m going to change in the bathroom. I saw you have a towel over the window. Tomorrow we’re starting on the curtains.”
Tara said goodnight to her daughter. As she was getting ready for bed, she hoped Ally would make a fresh start here. The cottage would be good for both of them, a new beginning.
Chapter 8
While Ally went to the store to pick up a few things, Tara sat outside on the dock and painted her toes coral.
They’d been taking turns cooking, and tonight was Ally’s turn.
When Tara admitted she’d always been leery of cooking on a grill, Ally picked up her purse and keys, and said it was high time she learned. Looked like they’d have a grill today.
Tara was looking forward to hamburgers on the grill with homemade baked beans and potato salad.
Between the two of them, they’d spent the last week making curtains from the drop cloths and edging them in the black ribbon Tara found in a drawer. The curtains were simple and complemented the easy-going vibe of the house.
After they’d finished the curtains, they’d spent a day at the fabric outlet picking out fabric for the porch and patio cushions. Tara had made templates from the chairs so they’d have something to go by.
There had been a dizzying array of fabrics to choose from. They ended up going with a red and blue floral for the front porch, a black and white floral for the wrought iron, and a blue and white gingham for the pillows for the sofa.
A book from the library helped them with making the slipcovers for the sofa and chairs, which they’d covered in white denim. That way they could change the accent pillows each season, and keep the house looking fresh.
When they’d bleached the outdoor planters to clean them before filling them with flowers and herbs, they ruined their shorts, so they picked out bright summery fabrics for a new pair. She told her daughter she’d show her how to make her favorite pattern.
Between getting the house in order and getting used to living with each other, the next few weeks flew by. Ally liked to get up early and go for a run, while Tara preferred to practice yoga on the patio, or sometimes she’d simply sit in a chair on the dock with a cup of coffee enjoying the sunrise.
Other days, Tara didn’t sleep well, so by the time she fell asleep and woke, it was late morning. On the days she couldn’t sleep, Tara was thankful Ally was quiet when she got up early to go for her run.
Patty used to say if men went through menopause, the world would have ended a long time ago.
Between the hot flashes and crankiness, they’d have blown the planet to bits. Her best friend had hot flashes that she said felt like her skin was super-heated from the inside out. Luckily, Tara hadn’t experienced hot flashes, instead waking up a couple of mornings a week at four-thirty on the dot, tossing and turning for hours before finally falling back asleep.
She remembered visiting her grandmother when she was a teenager, and wondering why she got up around four or five almost every morning. Her grandmother would set the table, throw in a load of laundry, and do whatever else she wanted until she tired again. Then she’d go back to bed and sleep until nine or ten. As her grandmother used to say, ‘it’s hell getting old’.
By the time the end of June rolled around, Tara and Ally had been in the cottage long enough to know what they wanted to change. She planned to ask Jameson and Mary for recommendations on who to hire to do the work.
Between all the skincare and haircare products they had between them, they most definitely wanted separate bathrooms. They also wanted an island in the kitchen, so they’d have plenty of room to cook together.
One of the local high school kids came by once a week to cut the grass and pull weeds. It delighted her daughter when the boy discovered two small greenhouses under a mound of kudzu vines.
He’d recently left for a summer study program, so Tara needed someone to help her put a landscaping and garden plan in motion. She wanted an extensive garden full of vegetables, and a herb garden.
The property was a little over eight acres, plenty of room for whatever they could dream up. There was an orchard filled with fruit trees. They’d already collected plums, peaches, and pears. It looked like there were apple trees as well, though none of them knew what varieties. It would be a surprise come fall.
There were pecan trees and several figs. The figs would be ready in the next couple of weeks. She and Ally planned to make fig jam. Tara would give Christina and Evan several jars when they came to visit. She’d either mail some to Patty or save them for when she visited over Thanksgiving.
Ally claimed one greenhouse as her own. Both small buildings had been made using old salvaged windows. They were utterly charming with the mismatched windows and old brick floors.
There was even an old hand pump for water from a spring between the two buildings. It had been a workout getting the pump going. Her daughter wanted to grow flowers and plant bulbs in the fall.
The other greenhouse would be for Tara. She wasn’t sure if she’d use it for herbs or if she’d turn it into some kind of home office. Turning the space into an office or she shed meant she’d first have to figure out what she wanted to do, and she hadn’t gotten that far yet.
Mary at Spilled Milk had purchased several pairs of shorts from her. Tara sewed up three prints in a variety of sizes. Mary would sell them, keep track of what sizes sold the best, and they’d see how it went.
The grocery was really more of a general store with groceries, household items, and clothes. If the shorts sold well, Tara would sew up a few simple sundresses and see how they did.
Tara was walking across the porch when a crack sounded, her foot went through a rotten board and she went down on her knees. The notebook went skittering across the uneven boards, and the pencil she’d been using to make notes went rolling across the porch and disappeared between the boards.
It was gone for good. There was no way Tara would crawl under the house to look for that pencil. She shuddered, thinking of what kind of creepy slithering things might call the crawlspace home.
It was no use. She was good and stuck. The scent of rotten wood and damp earth rose as she struggled to pull her foot from the hole without scraping her skin any more than she already had. Just as Tara had decided to stay put and wait for Ally to return, she heard a car.
Only it wasn’t Ally. A man clambered out of a shiny black pickup truck, taking in the situation with a glance as he strode over to her.
“Looks like you could use a hand.”
The angle of sun obscured his face as he stood on the first step. All she could make out was he was tall, had a nice deep voice, and dark hair.
The smell of freshly cut wood filled the air as he stood next to her, peering into the hole.
“I’m so glad you happened by.”
Tara pointed to her left, where she’d stepped on the first rotten board a while back. She’d covered it with a piece of plywood so she or Ally wouldn’t fall.
“Looks like there’s more than one rotten board on this porch.”
He squatted down to meet her gaze.
“May I?”
He gestured to her foot for permission to touch her.
“Please.”
He went still.
“Tara?”
She looked at the man in front of her. For a minute she didn’t have a clue. Then the years fell away and there he was, the boy he used to be.
“Will? Will Dixon?”
He grinned.
Tara blinked at him.
“I can’t believe it’s you.”
When he took hold of her bare foot, she felt the calluses on his hands.
“Thirty-some years and I swear you’re just as pretty as you were back in high school.”
Before she registered the slight pinch, he had her foot free and was helping her to her feet.
“That’s some compliment.” She took hold of his arm. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m sold.”
His dark blue eyes crinkled at the corners. The laugh lines a testament to a man who knew how to enjoy life.
“Can you stand?”
“I think so.”
She let go of his arm, gently tested the weight on her foot and smiled.
“Yep. I’m good.”
Tara looked down at her foot.
“Only a few minor scratches. Thank you.”
“Jameson thought you might need some help.”
“I’m so glad you came by when you did.”
He grinned.
“Me too. I’ve got a couple of boards in the back of the truck. I’ll cover the hole until I can come back and replace those rotten boards tomorrow.”
“Can I interest you in a glass of iced tea?”
“I’d like that.”
Tara went inside to pour the tea.
Will Dixon.
Talk about a blast from the past. The sound of hammering brought her back to the present. Besides the iced tea, Tara sliced up a couple of peaches and put them in dark blue ceramic bowls. They were in season, so juicy and sweet, they tasted like candy.
By the time she pushed the screen door open with her hip, Will had finished covering the new hole she’d made in the porch.
He wiped his forehead.
“All finished.”
He drained half the glass of tea.
“Jameson said you were looking to have some work done?”
Tara refilled his glass from the pitcher she’d brought outside.
“The porch needs quite a bit of work, as you can see.”
“I’ll check the rest of the flooring and the columns while I’m here.”
He wore a pair of faded jeans and a gray tee shirt. The jeans made her hot just looking at them. How could he stand them in this heat?
“That would be great. I’d like a porch swing too. Why don’t we walk through the house and I can show you what else I had in mind? Then we can sit out back and you can tell me what you think. There’s a pleasant breeze off the water today.”
Will picked up the pitcher of tea.
“Lead the way.”
She led him through the house, pointing out what she wanted done.
Will stopped in the dining room on the way to the kitchen to look at the two wood storage cubbies which made up the window seat.
“These old Sears houses sure were built to last.”
Her daughter was almost finished making cushions to put on top of the storage cubbies. She’d declared it a perfect reading spot.
“The woodwork is beautiful. On
ce I cleaned the floors and cabinets I decided they could stay as is, unless they aren’t sound structurally.”
“I’ll check them over for you. You wanted to update the hardware on the cabinets?”
She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“And maybe add a few pull outs so I can see what’s in the back of the cabinets. I hate when you find a box of pasta that’s five years old because it was shoved in the back.”
Will grinned, and when he did, she noticed a faint scar on his chin.
“Sounds like you have experience with expired pasta?”
Tara threw up her hands.
“You have no idea.”
As he laughed, she showed him where she thought a laundry room might fit off the kitchen in what was currently some type of coat closet.
“I’d like to update the existing bathroom. And I’d really like to add a second bathroom.”
He’d pulled a spiral flip-top notepad from his pocket, making notes as they went. Occasionally, he’d ask a thoughtful question or make a suggestion she hadn’t thought of, like putting a large window in the bathroom so when she soaked in the clawfoot tub she could look out at the trees and the water.
“You know, there’s a class every year at the vocational high school. They supervise the kids as they work on projects, learning by doing. They work with certified electricians and plumbers and the like, to check the work. It takes longer, but it would save you a lot of money.”
“I’m all for learning by doing. I’d definitely be interested.”
He told her he’d talk to the guy in charge, a friend of his, and they’d make it happen. Doing it as a project for the kids, Tara could move forward with all the projects she wanted, including the attic, instead of having to pick her top two. It didn’t matter how long it took, there was plenty of time.
They walked through the kitchen, out to the patio.
“This old iron furniture was made to last forever.”
Tara sat in a chair at the round table across from him.
“So for the kitchen. New counters and appliances.”
He nodded. “The floors still look good.”
She’d told him how she’d cleaned them up, how she’d used a mop to scrub the walls and ceilings.
Blueberry Hill, #1 Page 8
