Honeysuckle Hollow

by Jennifer Moorman

  “Are you pushing me out of town? Ready to have this place all to yourself?”

  Tessa unwrapped the candy and sighed. “Not really.” Technically, Paul was a stranger, but, like kudzu, in the past two days, he’d become tangled around nearly every aspect of her life, which changed directions every couple of hours. Tessa was currently homeless, without a car, and on the verge of making a ridiculous life-altering decision, and Paul seemed to be the only stable part.

  His blue eyes crinkled around the edges when he smiled. “I have the perfect dinner idea.” He walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “But I’m not sure we have all of the ingredients. It’s a dish I ate in Australia.”

  “We can go to the grocery store,” Tessa said. “What’s the dish?”

  Paul closed the refrigerator. “It’s perfect for the occasion. It has polenta-crusted poached eggs and Spanish chorizo served on top of crispy corn tortillas with a sprinkle of roasted mushrooms and queso fresco. It’s called ‘Thieves on the Run.’ Perfect for us, yeah?”

  Tessa groaned, and Paul laughed.

  Tessa huffed. “I’m rethinking my decision on whether or not I want you to stay a little longer. And for the last time, I didn’t steal the spear.”

  “Yeah, yeah, so, we’ll call it ‘Borrowers on the Run.’”

  She grabbed her purse. Paul whistled in the kitchen. She saw the stack of house listings on the bedroom dresser. She eased a listing from the bottom of the pile and stared at Honeysuckle Hollow. When she inhaled, she smelled honeysuckle growing on the vine mixed with the earthy scent of cloves. The smell of sage and rosemary lingered. Her fingers trembled, causing the paper to flutter in her hands. She couldn’t deny the emotion bubbling up through her. She wanted Honeysuckle Hollow for herself. Spear, bats, and all.

  13

  Courage Quiche

  Tessa woke up early with two words bouncing around in her brain: Honeysuckle Hollow. Part of her knew it would be foolish to think she would even be the right person to buy a rundown property and rehabilitate it. She’d seen people get in over their heads with a money pit, and she’d always sworn she would never purchase an old home. Older homes seemed to come with old and expensive problems.

  Her condo had been the perfect fit for her. It had been new, clean, and just the right size. Honeysuckle Hollow was more than one hundred years old, falling apart, and too much space for her. What would she do with four thousand square feet? Listen to her echo bounce around the empty rooms? Still the house called to her, asking her to save it. The house had never turned its back on anyone, could she turn her back on it?

  Tessa rolled over and grabbed for her notepad. At the top of a clean page, she wrote the question, Should I buy Honeysuckle Hollow? She numbered down the side of the page, and beside the number one, she wrote, I want to.

  At seven a.m. she pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before tiptoeing through the living room. Paul’s deep breaths fluttered the pages of a notebook on the coffee table. She peered down at the lined paper. It looked as though he was working on his next article, and the words Mystic Water and Cherokee were legible even upside down. Was he writing an article about the spear?

  Tessa closed the front door as quietly as possible and then eased down the outside stairs. She wasn’t surprised to see a flurry of activity already happening inside Scrambled. She waved to Laney, walked toward the kitchen’s swinging door, and pushed it open.

  “Good morning,” Tessa said to Harry’s back.

  Harry turned from the griddle and lifted his spatula in the form of a wave. “Morning, Tessa. I don’t see you much behind the scenes.” He flipped over a pile of hash browns and revealed their crispy, brown underside. “Perfection. How are you?”

  Tessa lifted her shoulders. “Full of thoughts. Sorry to bother you while you’re working, but I wondered if you had anything quick I could take and eat upstairs.”

  Cecilia walked out of the backroom that housed the coolers and freezer. Her smile widened. “There’s the charmer who’s convinced my boy to stay a while longer.”

  Tessa glanced behind her, and Cecilia’s laugh caused Harry to pause in his work and smile at his wife.

  Cecilia pulled Tessa into a hug, squeezing her tight. “I don’t know how you’ve done it, but knowing that Paul is staying another day is more than I could have hoped. You’ve worked some sort of magic on him.”

  “Not me,” Tessa said. She made a scoffing noise in her throat. Why would Cecilia think Tessa had anything to do with Paul’s extended stay? Sure, she borrowed the spear, but he wasn’t staying because of her. Based on what she’d seen in his notebook, Paul seemed to be working on a story about the artifact. Tessa imagined Paul could find a story anywhere, even in Mystic Water. “I think he’s been enjoying himself and enjoying spending time with y’all.”

  Cecilia’s cheek dimpled just like Paul’s did when he smiled. “I think he’s spent more time with you than with us, but he couldn’t have picked a sweeter girl to be with—”

  “Cece, that’s enough,” Harry said. “You’re poking your nose around where it doesn’t belong.”

  “Oh, hush, Harry,” Cecilia said. “Don’t stand there and act as though you haven’t been wondering the same thing.”

  “Wondering what?” Tessa asked.

  “About you and Paul,” Cecilia answered.

  “Me and Paul what?”

  Cecilia fisted her hands onto her hips. Then she waved her hands in the air above her head. “About you and Paul. Together. You two seem to click. Finally, Paul has found someone who makes him pause.”

  Tessa’s breath caught in her throat. A tiny twinkle of hope fluttered in her chest before she released it on her next breath. She said, “It’s not like that. We’re not together.”

  Cecilia narrowed her eyes at Tessa as though she didn’t believe her answer. Based on the way Tessa’s heart thumped against her ribs, she wasn’t sure if she should believe her answer either. But we’re not together. We’re not anything.

  “Word around here is that you’re involved in Honeysuckle Hollow,” Cecilia said. “Paul also mentioned he’d been out to the see the house.”

  Tessa nodded. Nothing ever stayed hidden in small towns, not for long. “I’ve been working with an out-of-town owner. I want to get the place fixed up.”

  Cecilia nodded. “That’ll be a lot of work. After Matthias died, I think they pretty much let the place go. I don’t know why though. It was such a beautiful house. Magical even. Matthias was one of our very first customers. Such a nice man. He used to come in here every Wednesday morning, and we shared gardening tips. He even planted sage and rosemary from my garden into the garden there.”

  Tessa’s eyes widened. Plants grown in the diner’s special soil were now growing at Honeysuckle Hollow. The magic spreads.

  “Paul had quite a lot to say about the house and what you hoped would happen with it.” Cecilia’s eyes were full of hope. “He couldn’t stop smiling when talking about the architecture. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that.”

  Tessa cleared her throat and tried to avoid Cecilia’s searching eyes. “I was asking Harry, is there any dish I could take off your hands this morning?”

  Cecilia eyed Tessa a moment longer before nodding. She pointed to a warm, buttery quiche sitting on one of the countertops. “It was supposed to be a courage quiche. If you can believe this, I went out to the garden this morning to grab rosemary, and I noticed a few dozen crocuses popping up through the dirt. They’re all in bloom, and it’s not crocus season. Not only that, they are…what are they called again, Harry?”

  “Crocus sativus.”

  “That’s right. The kind of crocus that yield saffron.”

  “Does that mean they’re special?”

  “Of course they are. Saffron is rare and expensive, and I certainly didn’t plant them in the garden.” She shrugged. “Who knows who dropped them there.”

  Tessa glanced over her shoulder as though she might be able to see th
e garden from the closed-in kitchen. She swallowed and tucked her hair behind her ears. So, now the garden was pushing up not only out-of-season plants but saffron-producing crocus? What was the garden trying to tell them?

  “I brought the saffron threads inside and put them in a small jar. Then I accidentally tipped the entire jar into the eggs. It wasn’t worth fishing them out. I wanted to throw out the quiche, but Harry told me that someone might want it. I guess that someone is you.”

  Tessa walked over to the quiche. It wasn’t as yellow as a crayon, but it was brighter and sunnier than other quiches she’d seen. “Why is it called ‘courage quiche’?”

  Cecilia lifted her hands. “Old tales say that saffron gives strength and courage to those who ingest it. My nonna used to add threads to her risotto—”

  “The best I’ve ever eaten, may she rest in peace,” Harry interjected, causing Cecilia to glance his way and smile.

  “This was one of her recipes too. It’s what we always called it. Now it’s yours,” Cecilia said, sliding the quiche into a brown paper bag. “And with the amount of saffron in it, I’d say you’ll be courageous enough to take on the world. Perhaps even take a chance on love with a wayward Italian young man—”

  “Cece,” Harry warned.

  Cecilia shoved the bag into Tessa’s hands. “Take it.” She shook her head at Harry. “Can you blame me, Harry? Tell me you don’t love having Paul around.”

  Tessa cleared her throat again. “Thank you for the quiche. How much do I owe you?”

  Cecilia waved her hands in the air. “Nothing. Share it with Paul. He’ll only come down and raid the kitchen for free anyway.”

  Tessa scooted out of the kitchen before the conversation became any more awkward. She slipped out of the dining room and stared at the garden as she walked past. Purple crocus blooms huddled together, waving to her in the breeze.

  At the top of the stairs, she paused. Why was Paul still staying? Even during dinner the night before, he hadn’t mentioned when his second attempt at leaving town would happen. It’s not because of you, a voice whispered in her head. For a moment, long enough for her to inhale and exhale a heavy breath, she imagined what it would be like for a man like Paul to stick around because of her. She almost smiled.

  Tessa opened the door and crept into the kitchen without disturbing Paul. She grabbed a fork and carried the quiche into the bedroom, where she pulled the fluffy duvet off the bed and dragged it into the bathroom. The en suite was half the size of the bedroom, large enough to contain an oversize garden tub, a tiled, walk-in shower, and a double vanity with a mirror spanning across the wall in front of the two sinks.

  Tessa checked to make sure the bathtub was clean and dry. Then she dropped the duvet into the tub, causing it to look like a giant oval filled with marshmallow fluff. She grabbed her cell phone and her notepad and pulled the quiche out of the bag, closed the bathroom door, and crawled into the tub, careful not to drop the quiche or fork on the floor.

  The first bite of courage quiche tasted earthy, and the crust melted on her tongue. She ate bite after bite, watching the sunbeams stretch across the bathroom tiles and striping the room in pink and gold. Before she realized it, she’d eaten the equivalent of two entire slices of quiche. She hadn’t bothered cutting the quiche into equal segments, so it looked as though a teenager had stood in the kitchen eating willy-nilly from the pan. She doubted Paul would want to eat after her now.

  Words crept into Tessa’s mind, blowing through her thoughts like a spring breeze. Buy Honeysuckle Hollow. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t worry that it was the most absurd and irresponsible idea she’d ever had. She ripped the question page from her notepad. She didn’t need five people to give her advice. She needed to save Honeysuckle Hollow, and there was no way to do that without purchasing it herself.

  First, she dialed Mr. Fleming and told him the deal was on. The buyer would purchase the entire building, and she’d be paid more than the condo was worth, especially at present. The buyer was supposed to call her before lunch and inform her of the details. Second, she called Ralph.

  “Huh?” He rasped his greeting into the phone.

  “Oh, did I wake you?” Tessa asked.

  She heard rustling around, muffled groans, and the sound of sheets being pulled across a bed.

  “It’s not even nine, Tessa. No one gets out of bed before nine.”

  Tessa frowned. “What world do you live in, Ralph? Not the real one. Anyway, how much is the investor giving Mrs. Steele for the land?”

  Whether it was because she’d woken him and he hadn’t thought to shield his answers or because he felt no reason to protect his client, Ralph gave her an honest answer. He seemed surprised when she thanked him and ended the call immediately.

  Tessa dialed Mrs. Steele’s number. She doubted she would receive an answer because of the time difference between the east and west coasts, but Tessa left Mrs. Steele a detailed message, including the price she was willing to pay for Honeysuckle Hollow.

  She jumped in the shower while Paul slept. Then she continued to get ready for her workday, drying her hair, putting on makeup, and changing into presentable clothes. All the while she felt the excitement about her decision to buy Honeysuckle Hollow growing inside her like a seed, sprouting and spreading. The words Honeysuckle Hollow and home tangled around each other until they felt synonymous. I can do this.

  Within half an hour, the buyer who wanted her condo building called her, and Tessa set up a time to meet with him in the afternoon. His offer was generous given the state of the building, and Tessa imagined how she would use the money to repair Honeysuckle Hollow because she felt confident that Mrs. Steele would not turn her away. She would also need to call the bank and inform them that she would be using all of her savings in order to purchase the house. She sank into the tub, letting the duvet wrap around her, and she grabbed her cell phone.

  As if on cue, her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Andrews? This is Trudy Steele. I can’t imagine why you want to save anything so worthless, but your offer is above what I was hoping to get from another investor. I’m prepared to accept your offer,” she said without waiting for Tessa to respond with a greeting.

  Tessa bolted upright in the tub. “You are?” A rush of energy zinged through her. She blurted, “Of course you are.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Tessa’s insides felt jolted with electricity. “Fax the paperwork to my office. I have a contact at the bank who can probably expedite this process. I’d even say that within two weeks, you will have the money in your account, and I will have the deed.”

  The phone call fell so silent that Tessa heard her own heart pounding in her ears. Her confidence wavered.

  “Mrs. Steele?”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Mrs. Steele asked, her voice more brittle than ever. “That’s a lot of money for a house that has brought nothing but misery and heartache.”

  “I’m sorry?” Tessa asked, frowning into the phone.

  Then, as though she’d never paused in the business transaction to show weakness or concern, Mrs. Steele said, “I’ll fax these papers to you, and although I’ve never heard of a bank working quickly on anything, I’ll take your word for it. I’ll need earnest money so that I know you’re serious. I won’t have you saying you’ll buy it only to change your mind when you realize what a mistake it is.”

  “Earnest money, of course. How much?”

  Mrs. Steele said she wanted half of the offered price—thousands of dollars, and Tessa’s stomach fluttered. She sat in silence.

  “Changing your mind already?” Mrs. Steele’s voice reached through the phone and filled the air in the bathroom with sparks, shocking Tessa where she sat, itching her skin like pinpricks.

  “No—no, ma’am. I’m thinking. I can go to the bank today. I can wire the money, but I’ll need a contract from you, even a basic one will do. Can you fax that to me this morning?”

  Mrs.
Steele agreed to send over the beginning paperwork, and Tessa promised to go to the bank as soon as she received the contract. She said goodbye and stared at her cell phone. Now she needed to get the cleaners and the exterminators over there as soon as possible. She searched for their numbers and gave them both a call, and to her surprise, both companies could be at the house after lunch. Tessa’s pulse raced.

  Then she called Charlie Parker and asked if she would be able to board up the broken windows until they could start renovations. Charlie said she could get someone to drop off the supplies, but she wouldn’t be able to nail up the boards until Monday. Tessa told Charlie the supplies could be dropped off after lunch, and they said goodbye.

  A knock at the bathroom door startled her, and she dropped the phone into the feathery clouds of the duvet. “Yeah?”

  The door opened, and Paul popped his head into the bathroom.

  “Hey!” Tessa shouted. “I didn’t say come in. I might not have been decent.”

  “Are you ever decent?” He smirked. When he spotted her in the bathtub, his brow furrowed. “Should I even ask why you’re in the tub with the blanket?” His cheek dimpled, and he stepped into the bathroom.

  “I just bought Honeysuckle Hollow.”

  His smile dimmed. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. It’s mine. Well, there’s paperwork to be done and money to be shifted around, but it will be mine.” She covered her mouth with her fingertips and released a girly squeal.

  “Whoa,” Paul said, sitting down on the edge of the tub. “Are you serious? When did this happen?”

  “Less than five minutes ago.”

  “And your condo?”

  “Sold. Or it will be this afternoon.”

  “And you’re sitting in the tub because?”

  Tessa fished around for her cell phone. “I didn’t want to wake you while I ate breakfast and made phone calls.” She pointed toward the vanity. “Your mama gave me a courage quiche.”

  Paul stood and crossed the bathroom while Tessa tried to crawl out of the tub without falling. The duvet slipped on the smooth ceramic surface, and she tumbled out of the bath, landing with a loud thump, sprawled on the bathmat. Paul looked at her over his shoulder, and she pointed a finger at him.