Blueberry Hill, #1

by Cynthia Luhrs

  There was no way she’d hear Will over the construction noise, so Tara sat on the front porch in one of the rocking chairs, content to feel the breeze blow across her skin. It struck her how the mountains changed colors depending on the time of day. She couldn’t wait to see the leaves burst into color and then to see snow. Living in Miami, she missed the changing of the seasons. When the weather rarely changed, it was harder to mark the passage of time.

  It would be nice when she and Ally didn’t have to worry about waking up at a certain time every day. When she was married, Tara always made sure she was up and had breakfast ready for Harry before he left for work.

  Now? It didn’t matter what time she woke. The shorts and sundresses she made to sell and the porch swing cushions for Will could be made anytime during the day or night.

  She loved the freedom of creating her own schedule. Once she taught the home economics classes, she’d have to adhere to a schedule, but even then she wasn’t going to teach morning classes. They’d all be in the afternoon and evening to accommodate those who had day jobs, but were interested in learning how to put up food from their gardens or how to sew.

  Will pulled up in his truck, a cloud of dust filling the air. They really needed a good rain this week.

  As he strode towards her, Tara thought of how he’d changed. The rough edges worn smooth like glass tumbled in the ocean, until it became something new, sea glass buried in the sand, waiting for someone to come along and find it.

  “You’re ready.” He nodded to her.

  She gathered up her hat and sunglasses.

  “I’m not baiting the hook or taking any fish we catch off the hook.”

  He grinned.

  “I’ll do that. I’ll grill whatever we catch for dinner tonight too.”

  “Works for me.”

  Satisfied, she led the way to the dock next door.

  They spent the morning fishing, enjoying the sun and each other’s company. A neighbor had offered to let Tara take his boat out whenever she wanted, and in exchange, she told him he was welcome to the blueberries, blackberries, and the apples growing on the property.

  For all the time she’d spent in Miami, Tara knew nothing about boats. She’d been out on them, but had never had to do anything other than enjoy herself, or worry about how they worked, so she was glad Will knew what he was doing.

  Will took them out to the center of the lake. Out here, she could hear the waterfall crashing into the water, and decided while it was beautiful to look at, she wouldn’t want to live right next to it like the two big houses on either side of the falls. The noise would be deafening.

  “This is the special spot?”

  “It is. You’ll have to trust my internal fish radar.”

  Tara wasn’t sure why this spot of water was any different from the rest of the lake, but she refrained from saying anything, content to let him go where he said they were certain to catch fish.

  She shaded her eyes and looked out across the water at her home.

  “I think Aunt Frida would like what I’ve done with her house.”

  Will handed her a fishing rod.

  “She would. The changes you made kept the character of the house while updating it. It’s coming along nicely.”

  He cast the rod in the opposite direction from her line. They sat quietly, content to feel the breeze on their skin, the water gently rocking them back and forth. There weren’t many people outside today, they must have gone into town or sightseeing around the area. As Tara relaxed, she could hear the water hitting the sides of the small boat. Between that and the waterfall booming across the water, it lulled her into a dreamlike state. The smell of the lake mingled with the freshly cut wood smell from the renovations at the house that clung to them both.

  He cleared his throat, pulling her out of that in-between place she went sometimes. Daydreaming or looking inward, whatever it was called.

  “I’m sorry for the circumstances that brought you here, but I’m really glad you’re back.”

  “At first, I wasn’t sure I’d make it. It would have been so easy to give up and float through life. When I arrived, it was like I could feel Aunt Frida in the house and out on the dock. I know there’s no way she could have foreseen that I’d need this place, but I like to believe that somehow she knew.”

  “Maybe she did. Folks around here always thought she had a bit of the sight. She knew the phone was going to ring before it did, knew who was pulling into the driveway, and she had a knack for winning on those scratch off tickets.”

  Tara felt a tug on her pole, but when she pulled it up, the bait was gone. She handed the rod to Will.

  “You put the minnow on the hook and I’ll toss the little guy in the water.”

  He grinned at her. “I’m guessing I’ll have to clean the fish too?”

  “You better believe it.” She shuddered. “Consider this fishing adventure my thanks.”

  “Thanks for what?” He handed her the rod.

  “For fixing stuff around the place. Old houses always have something that needs fixing.”

  Will took off his baseball cap and let the wind blow through his hair. She was glad he had a full, thick head of hair. So many men hit fifty, and suddenly it seemed like they were bald or had thin hair or went completely gray.

  “I enjoy fixing things.”

  He put the hat back on, pulling the brim low.

  “It’s been nice to feel useful again.”

  A few hours later, Tara had caught two fish to his five. Plenty for dinner for the three of them.

  They were on their way back when Tara heard a splash. There was another splash, and then a fish hit her on the arm before flopping around in the boat.

  With a shriek, Tara jumped up. The boat rocked violently side to side and the next thing she knew; it had tipped, dumping them and their gear into the lake.

  Somehow Will managed to grab the cooler and their rods, only losing his hat, whereas she lost her hat, sunglasses, and sandals.

  The water was icy out in the middle of the lake. It made her gasp as she shrieked.

  “I think the fish did that on purpose to save his friends.”

  Will treaded water next to her.

  “He’s out of luck. I grabbed the cooler. We’re cooking his mates for supper.”

  Two sunburnt men in a boat motored over to them, and helped them out of the water. Tara stayed in the larger boat, out in the sun, hoping her clothes would dry quickly. The sandals had been old, but she’d loved the hat and sunglasses. Oh well, she’d find something else she liked to replace what she lost to the lake.

  She wondered what else the lake might hold? Things people had lost, fallen into the mud down deep in the depths of the water.

  They tied the boat up at the dock, thanked the men, and walked back to her house. Tara loved the feel of grass underneath her feet.

  “I’ll shower in my bathroom, you take the new one. There are towels in the linen closet.”

  Tara pulled her damp shirt away from her skin.

  “I thought we’d be dry by now.”

  She grinned. “I think the fish are out for revenge so I’ll pass on going fishing again.”

  He chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. He’d turned into one fine-looking man.

  “Do you need a change of clothes?”

  Tara wasn’t sure she had anything to offer him, but it seemed like the right thing to at least ask.

  “I’ve got clothes in the truck. Last year I slipped and fell in a mud puddle. Had to go to dinner in muddy clothes.” He shrugged. “Let’s just say there wasn’t a second date.”

  “I’d guess not. Toss your clothes in the washer and I’ll wash them with mine.”

  Will was about to answer when he stopped and pointed.

  “Did I just see goats walking across your yard?”

  She grinned at him.

  “You did indeed. They’re eating the kudzu around the property and the greenhouse. Once they’re finished, we’ll
get started on the flower and vegetable garden.”

  She stopped at the door to her bathroom.

  “If you need anything, let me know.”

  Tara stripped off the soggy clothes in the bathroom. The smell of the lake filled the steamy shower as she soaped her body and washed her hair.

  She had fun today with Will. It was interesting how their past and present selves melded together, making them familiar yet new to each other.

  As Tara was toweling off, there was a knock at the door.

  “Mom?”

  “Come on in.”

  Ally closed the door behind her.

  “I saw you and Will fall in the lake. What on earth happened?”

  The scene replayed itself in her head as Tara told her the story.

  “I didn’t know what hit my arm, only that it was wet and slimy.” Tara rubbed her arms, remembering the feel of the fish against her skin.

  “It was my fault. I jumped up and the next thing you know we were in the water.”

  “The poor fish. You probably scared him more than he scared you.” Ally laughed. “He was probably chasing a bug and instead caught a human.”

  Tara finished towel drying her hair.

  “I’m just glad my hair doesn’t smell like the lake. I love the smell of the water, but not in my hair.”

  She was happy to have her daughter home, glad to see her finding her place in the world. She inspired Tara to let go of the past.

  “As much as I’d like to stay and eat dinner with you two…”

  She waggled her brows.

  “Mrs. Cavill invited me to have dinner with her, and paint afterwards. I’ll be home late.”

  Ally paused at the door.

  “Have fun. Will is really nice. Did you see he fixed the door to my greenhouse?”

  Tara nodded. “I meant to tell you earlier. It’s nice to have a man around who fixes things without being asked.”

  “Seriously.” Ally put a hand to her heart. “That alone is reason enough to marry the man.”

  Her daughter was grinning as she closed the door behind her.

  Tara finished dressing, deciding on a light sweater and jeans. It would be chilly tonight.

  When she went outside, Will had the grill going.

  “I thought I’d open a bottle of white wine. Care for a glass?”

  He turned to her. “I’d love one.”

  “I’ll get the wine and roast some asparagus to go with the fish.”

  “I told Ally I’d help her put in an asparagus patch so you can harvest your own in a few years.” Will looked hopeful. “Will you make some of that Hollandaise sauce like you made last time?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back with the wine.”

  A while later, they sat on the patio, eating dinner and watching the sunset.

  Will carried the dishes inside and returned with the half empty bottle of wine.

  “I like having you around.” Tara sipped the crisp white wine.

  Will reached out and touched her cheek.

  “I like being around.”

  He hesitated, then said, “I’m not in any rush. I’m not going anywhere. When you’re ready, let me know and we’ll make these get-togethers dates.”

  “I appreciate you being patient with me.”

  “After my wife died, people told me I needed to get out there and date again. But grief is a funny thing, it’s different for each of us and runs on its own timeline.”

  “Dating sounds funny at our age.” Tara watched the houses on the lake, the lights in the windows, shadows of people moving around inside. She listened to the nocturnal sounds around them, so different from the hustle and bustle of Miami.

  “I never thought I’d be dating at this age. I thought Harry and I would be traveling the world, yet here I am.” She wasn’t grieving the loss of the man, but rather the loss of a life she’d spent so many years building.

  He shook his head. “I know what you mean.”

  Will picked up their glasses and the empty bottle.

  “I’m glad we reconnected. I like the person you’ve become.”

  She followed him inside. “I do too.”

  As twilight turned to night, lightning bugs lit up the backyard. An owl hooted in the distance as she bid him goodnight.

  Chapter 14

  Evan woke to the sound of retching.

  “Emily?”

  He stumbled from the bed to the bathroom to find his wife on the floor by the toilet.

  “I’m okay.” She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, her face as pale as the toilet she clutched.

  “Tell me what you need.” He yawned.

  “Ginger ale.”

  Evan padded down the stairs to the kitchen in his boxers to pour his wife a glass of ginger ale, two ice cubes, no more, no less, and a straw. He’d learned that lesson last week after she’d yelled at him about the ice.

  One of his colleagues told Evan not to worry. Once the first trimester was past, their wives returned to their normal personalities. Then he laughed and said well, for a couple of months, and then they change again. He clapped Evan on the shoulder, a gleam in his eye, and told him to wait until he was in the delivery room and his wife was screaming at him. The guy looked a little green as he remembered the delivery, making Evan shudder.

  He grabbed a handful of saltine crackers and took them and the ginger ale upstairs. Emily was back in bed, propped up by pillows, her face splotchy. There were purple circles under her eyes.

  “I brought some crackers too.”

  “Thank you, I’m sorry I yelled at you. It’s like I turn into someone else. I know I’m being awful, but it’s like I’m on the outside looking in, and I can’t stop the words from jumping out of my mouth.”

  Evan sat on the bed beside her.

  “It’s okay. I know you’re worried.” He took her icy hands in his. “The doctor said everything looks good.”

  A tear ran down her face. “What if I lose the baby again?”

  He pulled her close, twisting a lock of hair around his finger as he felt the moisture seep through his shirt.

  “You won’t. The doctor said it happens sometimes with the first. This time will be fine, we’re almost there. One more month and you’ll be in the second trimester, the baby will kick up a storm and all the doubt and worry will be behind us.”

  Well, until the baby came, but there was no way Evan was mentioning worrying about the kid drowning, or something awful happening. And what if the baby grew up to be a terrible teen? Or an awful person?

  Emily sniffed and blew her nose.

  “I’m just emotional today. At book club last night, several women told me their stories, I didn’t realize how many of them had miscarriages, some multiple miscarriages before carrying a baby to term.”

  She sighed and scooted him out of the way so she could climb out of bed.

  “I’m feeling a little better after the crackers and ginger ale. A nice hot shower will do wonders.”

  He waited to make sure she wasn’t going to get sick again. He had to be strong for her, not voice his own fears about losing the baby. Once Emily was in the shower, Evan went downstairs to his home office. It might be Saturday, but he had a full day of work ahead of him.

  The last rounds of layoffs were coming up, and to make matters worse, Stan had been avoiding him lately. There had been lots of closed-door meetings without Evan.

  Evan had always treated support staff well, believing you never knew who you might end up working for in the future. It had paid off. Mitch, Stan’s assistant, told Evan that Stan had interviewed with a rival firm, trying to ensure his promotion and pay raise. It seemed every time Evan tried to meet with his boss over the past few weeks; he was either on his way to another meeting or asked if they could reschedule. Evan needed this promotion and the money that went along with it.

  Eager to get away from the noise of the renovations at the house, Tara and Ally happily left to attend the blueberry festival in town.

&
nbsp; Will had been on a big job in Charlotte, building a library for a client, but would be back this evening to take her to the fair. Tara was looking forward to riding all the rides, seeing the lights and hearing the dings and bells from the games. It would be like being a kid all over again.

  “Mrs. Collier.” Ally smiled at her new friend. “I’m so glad you could join us.”

  “I haven’t been to the festival in ages. Make sure you take lots of pictures, you’ll find great inspiration for your next paintings here at the festival.”

  Ally held up her phone. “I brought it with me.”

  Her mom helped Mrs. Collier over the curb onto the grass of the park outside of town.

  “Is the town named after the blueberries that grow wild in the mountains?”

  The park in the square wasn’t big enough for the festival and fair. There were all kinds of arts and crafts vendors, food vendors, and lots of music, so they held it at a nearby park.

  “Yes. Wild blueberries were first found on the hill outside of town by one of the first families to settle here, sometime back in the early 1930s. Though what they called a hill, we call a mountain. The man was from Canada and was looking for a more temperate climate for his wife. He named the town Blueberry Hill.”

  Mrs. Collier looked to the mountains and pointed.

  “Right there in the middle of that dip is where he built their home. It burned down in a fire some fifty years ago. His wife loved the wild blueberries. They’re smaller than regular blueberries with a sweeter, more intense flavor than what you find in the stores.”

  Ally loved the small berries, would eat them by the handful when she was outside.

  “We have a bunch of bushes around our house at the lake.”

  Mrs. Collier nodded.

  “They make a good jam.”

  Her mom motioned them over to a vendor who made rag rugs out of old socks.

  “These would be great to put by the doors. They’re washable and look at all the colors.”

  Ally helped her mom pick out rugs in shades of blue. They’d keep dirt from being tracked inside. Though they might as well leave them in the car until the remodeling was complete or they’d be washing them every other day.