by Sharon Sala
"Gracie Dunham."
"Gracie. That has a nice ring to it," Lucy said, and disconnected.
Sam grinned. She'd just hung up on him. Ah well, he had a good feeling about this. He sure hoped it all worked out. It would be another lease for him, which was good for business, and it might help set Gracie Dunham off on the right foot to a new life.
Daphne Dunham still hadn't gone back to work. She'd cried more in the past two days than she had in her whole life and had finally taken a sleeping pill last night. She hadn't woken up when her alarm went off. She couldn't face the world, so she'd called in and said she'd be working from home today.
She needed a reset.
Mama was dead, and her youngest sister no longer existed in her world. Gracie had cast her family out like the garbage they were, and now Daphne had two choices: Accept it and move forward or start wearing sackcloth and ashes.
She chose to move forward, accept the punishment as fair, and not beat herself up for being an asshole since it seemed to run in the family.
So, she carried her laptop into the kitchen, made herself a cup of coffee, then called the bank in Sweetwater, got the info she needed to donate money to Gracie's fund, and transferred five thousand dollars into the account. Gracie wouldn't know where it came from, but Daphne needed to know she'd done it to be able to live with herself.
And once that was over, she began pulling up the email on her listings. Life had happened, and now it was time to participate in it again.
Joel and Mamie were still feeling their way back to a semblance of normal, but right now it all felt fake.
Mamie was overdoing the considerate wife role, and Joel was unusually silent. She was afraid to talk about the elephant in the room, for fear Joel would have made a decision about her she couldn't live with.
She didn't want to lose him. She adored him, and he was already all broken in just the way she liked it. Or at least he had been, until she'd shattered his image of her.
As for Joel, he hadn't gotten over what had happened to Gracie. In his whole life, he had never known someone could suffer to that extent and not die. She was as broken as a soul could be and still be functioning, and they were all responsible.
His conscience hurt, and every time he looked at Mamie, he was shattered by the reality of who she'd shown herself to be. If she would abandon her own sister when the going got rough, what would she do to him if they suddenly lost everything? Would she be the kind of wife who would stand by her man, in sickness and in health, or would she jump ship on him? He had to decide if they were going to work on this together or go their separate ways.
"We have a situation," Joel said.
Mamie burst into tears.
"Don't leave me. I will die."
Joel rolled his eyes.
"No, you won't, and tears won't solve any of this. But I don't know how to fix us. Are you willing to go to couples counseling?"
"Yes, yes! I'll do anything you say!" Mamie cried.
"This isn't about pleasing me, Mamie. It's about the lies."
Mamie shivered. "I never thought about it like that."
"Secrets are lies. You don't keep serious stuff from someone you are supposed to love."
"But I do love you," Mamie wailed.
"Maybe...but you loved yourself more, and now I don't know whether I should trust you with the rest of my life."
Mamie's tears dried up so fast it made Joel blink.
"I guess I don't know what to say about that," she snapped.
"Which is why I'm suggesting counseling. Are you in or not?"
"I'm in," Mamie said. "But I don't want to ever hear you say that again."
"Fine," Joel said. "But now that you know I'm thinking it, I won't have to."
Mamie wanted to be mad again, but instinct told her to suck it up and play nice or hunt herself up a lawyer. And she really, really didn't want to lose her husband.
Unaware of her ex-siblings' drama, Gracie was in survival mode, in the process of starting from scratch to house and feed herself again.
She dressed in a pair of her black Walmart slacks, a red knit shirt, and slipped on her old sandals. With her dark hair down and lip gloss her only makeup, she left the motel for the leasing company, following the GPS app on her phone, going up and down the winding streets until she reached the address.
She entered the office, hopeful.
The receptionist smiled. "Good afternoon. Can I help you?"
"I'm Gracie Dunham. Sam Wainwright is expecting me."
And then a man came up the hall with a smile on his face and his hand out. He reminded Gracie of a professor she'd had in college. She'd liked the professor. She was still reserving judgment on Sam.
"Good to meet you, Gracie. I'm Sam. Are you ready to go for a ride?"
"Yes. And thank you for remembering me. Finding a decent, furnished apartment appears to be next to impossible here."
"Oh...hey...my job is to help people find homes. I still had your info and didn't think it would hurt to let you know. Furnished apartments are not a common commodity," he said, then glanced back at his receptionist. "We're going to look at some properties. Call if you need me," he said, then escorted Gracie out to his red SUV.
"Fire engine red and roomy," Sam said as he opened the door for her to get in.
Gracie was grateful for the leg room as she slid into the passenger seat and buckled up. Sam got in, too, and started up the car, jacking up the air conditioner.
"Let me know if that's too cold," he said.
Gracie sighed. "It feels heavenly," she said, as the blast of cool air hit her square in the face, and then to make the ride perfect, Sam's radio was on country music.
"Do you like country music?" Sam asked, as he turned down the volume a bit so they could talk.
Gracie nodded. "I'm from Texas. I grew up on it."
"Ah...what part of Texas?" Sam asked.
"West Texas, about ten miles outside of Sweetwater."
"Whoa! The geographic opposite of Branson, for sure."
"It's why I'm here," Gracie said, and then sat back, absently listening to Sam as they drove.
"You said you're job hunting? What kind of jobs are you looking for?"
"I have a degree in business, with a minor in communications, and a year of internship with an event planner in Dallas, which was my chosen field. But that was nine years ago, so I'll probably wind up waiting tables. I'll take whatever I am offered, and with thanks."
Sam nodded, and kept driving, pointing out different businesses and points of interest as they wound their way further into what was obviously an older part of Branson.
"This is considered the historic area of town. As you see, we're in a pretty ritzy part of the city right now. Lucy Bedford's property is just up ahead. It's the white, two-story with the huge wrap-around porch. The garage apartment is at the back of the property. I think you'll like the privacy this offers. It's an apartment, but in its own structure. No upstairs or downstairs. No neighbors making noise."
Sam slowed down to take the turn, then accelerated up the sloping driveway, past the perfectly manicured lawn and shrubbery as well as the grand old home, to the apartment at the rear of the property.
"The bottom part used to be a carriage house and is now your private garage. It's built out of native rock. The apartment above was added to it about forty years ago."
"That's a plus," she said.
Sam nodded. "There's more. You can get into the apartment two ways. There are stairs inside the garage, which means you don't have to deal with the weather to get in or out of your car. And, then the obvious way—the stairs you see on the outside of the building." He pulled up and parked, and they both got out. He keyed in a code at the garage door. Lights came on inside, revealing a concrete floor and shelving, and then a set of stairs against the far wall.
"It's single file up those steps. After you," he said.
Gracie grabbed the metal handrail, went up the stairs in seconds, then stood at
the landing, waiting for Sam to catch up.
"I'm slow, but steady," he said, and then unlocked the door and went in, turning on lights as he went, with Gracie coming in behind him.
Gracie smelled lemon oil and sighed. It already smelled like home.
"As you can see, it's all open up here. You walk right into the kitchen, which makes it handy to unload groceries. Then you have a perfect line of sight to the small living area and the television while you cook. Everything you need to keep house is here. Dishes, flatware, glasses, etc. The refrigerator is a newer model with the freezer at the bottom. Ice and water dispenser in the door. Lots of storage. There's a small pantry here, a dishwasher, and a full-size gas stove."
Gracie didn't know where to look first. The cabinets were natural wood, which she loved, as was the wide-planked flooring. The countertops were black quartz with gold veining, and the appliances were all stainless.
But it was the living room furniture that intrigued her. They were a mishmash of pieces all upholstered in velvet. One chair was in jade green, the other in gold. The sofa was a darker shade of gold with tufted upholstery and ornate carvings on the wood frame.
Gracie sat in one of the chairs and leaned back.
"I'm from the land of blowing dust, cattle, and coyotes. Sitting in a chair upholstered in velvet is a first, and it's very comfortable."
Sam grinned.
"A definite historical vibe," he said. "The fireplace is an electric insert. Works with a flip of the switch. You'd be surprised at what a difference it makes to the comfort in the winter months."
"I love it," Gracie said.
Sam led the way down the hall.
"Wait until you see the bedroom."
Gracie walked in, took one look at the old cherry wood canopy bed and a matching cherry wood dresser and sighed. Straight out of her childhood fantasy. Was this really happening?
"It's beautiful," she said.
"The single bath is directly across the hall," Sam said. "Check it out."
Gracie poked her head in the door, saw the claw-foot tub and a sink mounted in a cabinet similar to the ones in the kitchen, and fell in love.
"It has central air conditioning and heating," Sam added. "You pay your own utilities, which include water, sewer, and garbage pickup. Electricity is included in your rent. All the services are on right now. All you need to do is notify the city utility company. They'll set up your account and switch it into your name. The television has basic cable right now. If you want to add more, that's on you, and it's internet and WiFi ready."
"Besides rent, how much is the deposit?" Gracie asked.
"Ordinarily it would be the equivalent of another month's rent, but that's one of the things Lucy said she will waive. When we fill out the papers, I'll run a credit check and a background check. It's how we protect our clients," Sam said.
Gracie shrugged. "I have no idea if I even have a credit rating anymore. It's been so long since I worked at a paying job. But it used to be good. Will I be rejected because of the credit rating?"
"Not according to Lucy. She gets all huffy about our rules, and says they make everything too hard for people trying to get by. And since it's her property, she can pretty much call the shots. We do require automatic withdrawal for monthly payments."
Gracie nodded. "I can give you my banker in Sweetwater as a reference. He knew I was leaving town. He'll transfer my money to whichever bank I choose here. I was just looking for a place to live so I'd have an address before I set that up. I hope it's going to be this address because I want it...so much," Gracie said.
Sam clapped his hands.
"I had a feeling this place would suit you, and now that you've decided to lease it, Lucy wants to meet you."
"I'd like to meet her, too," Gracie said.
"Then follow me," Sam said. He turned off all the lights and led the way back downstairs. He punched in the code to lower the door. "Oh...there's a remote control for this door. It's at the office. You'll get it with the keys. Now let's go meet your new landlady. I think you're going to like her."
Chapter Ten
Lucy had dressed to meet the girl. She believed first impressions were important. And showing your true colors was also important to Lucy, which is why she'd fluffed and sprayed the purple tips of her white hair starch-stiff. Her earrings dangled, and the floral caftan she wore ebbed and flowed as she moved.
But now she was at the window, watching Sam and her new renter approaching. Sam was talking non-stop, as always. The woman with him seemed polite and attentive, but Lucy saw the wall around that girl as plainly as if it had been brick and mortar. She was one of the walking wounded, and it showed.
When they reached the sidewalk and headed to the house, Lucy took off for the front door and was approaching the foyer when the doorbell rang.
"I've got it, Muriel!" Lucy said, and waved off the housekeeper, then opened to door with a flourish. "Sam! Come in, come in," Lucy said, then stepped aside as they entered the foyer.
Sam immediately made introductions.
"Lucy, this is Gracie Dunham. Gracie, this is Lucy Bedford, your new landlord."
Lucy beamed. "Oh, I'm so happy you liked the place. It's a little eclectic for some, but it pleases me. Come sit with me a bit. I know Sam's busy, but stay long enough to have something cold to drink, will you?"
"Sounds good to me," Sam said. "Gracie?"
Gracie nodded. "Yes, please."
"I have coffee, iced tea, and soft drinks? What's your poison?"
"I'll have an iced tea. Unsweet," Sam said. "I'm supposed to be watching my sugar intake."
Lucy nodded. "And Gracie, what can I get for you?"
"I'd love a Coke, if you have them. If not, anything cold is perfect."
Lucy beamed. "Do I have Coke? It's my go-to soft drink. We are simpatico! Get comfy. I won't be a minute," she said, and sailed out of the living room, yelling at Muriel as she went.
Sam looked at Gracie. "Well, what do you think?"
Gracie looked around at the interior of this house and knew exactly where the furnishings for the apartment had come from.
"I think she's amazing," Gracie said.
A few minutes later, Lucy returned, Muriel behind her, pushing a tea cart with drinks and enough snacks to feed a football team.
"Gracie, this is Muriel. Muriel, Gracie is going to be the new tenant in the apartment."
Muriel smiled, then began passing out drinks and putting little plates of sweet cakes and savories on the coffee table in front of them.
"Don't be shy," Lucy said. "If you don't help me eat these, I'll just have to walk farther on the treadmill tomorrow."
Sam laughed out loud. "What part of 'cutting back on sugar' did you not understand?"
Lucy grinned. "It's all on you, boy. Willpower or greed. Your choice." Then she pointed at Gracie. "This one needs some coddling. I like to feed people, Gracie. Please enjoy."
Gracie took one look at all the treats, picked up a napkin and a little plate, and loaded it. She popped a little ham roll-up into her mouth and chewed, savoring dill, cream cheese, and something else...something salty in the spread.
"It's capers," Lucy said. "You're tasting capers."
Gracie blinked. "How did you know what—"
Lucy giggled. "I experiment with foods. That fools a lot of people."
Gracie filed that taste away for future reference, then one by one, ate everything she'd put on her plate, sipping Coke in between. It was the most perfect day she'd had in forever.
And then they were gone—back to the leasing company—signing papers, calling her banker, verifying her information, getting surprised by a decent credit rating, and then finally, writing a check for her first month's rent.
Sam handed over her paperwork, gave her the keys and the garage remote, and then reminded her. "Any time you have an issue with the property, you contact us. That's what we're for."
Gracie nodded. "And I can move in now?"
Sam grinned.
"Yes, ma'am. You're good to go."
Gracie dropped the remote and the keys into her purse, then picked up her paperwork, hugging it to her chest.
"Thank you for going out of your way to help me."
"Of course. It's what I do. Think you can find your way back there?" he asked.
Gracie nodded. "I've had people go missing on me before, but I've yet to lose me. I'll be fine."
It was nearing sundown when Gracie finally pulled back into the garage for the last time. She'd brought in all her luggage first, and then had left to go get groceries. She shut the garage door, then got out and began carrying bags up the stairs. It took three trips to get everything inside, and then there was the business of putting it all up.
She had yet to unpack her clothing or check her email to see if she'd gotten any responses on her job hunting, but there was time now. She began putting up the groceries, and when she came to the notepad and pen that she’d bought, she tore off the packaging, got out the pen and wrote—
I, Gracie, am takin’ care of business. I have someplace to be.
Lucy Bedford watched with delight as her new renter came and went. She was building her nest, and that was a good thing. A person needed to touch things and move things in a place until it felt right. It was going to be a joy to get to know Gracie, but all in good time—and at her pace.
John Gatlin walked out of E.R., his long legs making even longer shadows on the pavement as he paused to remind himself of where he'd parked. Getting the call that one of his employees had gotten hurt on the job was part of being the boss. Fortunately, the injuries had not been serious, but he'd still had to make a flying trip to the hospital with all the insurance information. It did, however, leave him shorthanded, which meant tomorrow he'd be on the job with that crew. It had been quite some time since he'd been in the field, but he was looking forward to riding a mower. It was far better than riding a desk.
Once he located his truck, he jogged toward it. All he wanted now was to go home, take a shower, have a cold beer and some pizza.
