“They published the article about Honeysuckle Hollow?”
“And Mystic Water and the adventurous lady who bought it just so she could save it.”
Tessa’s eyes widened. “Congratulations! I’ll have to tell Mr. Wallach at the library and Tracey at the bookshop. They’ll want to order copies. This town loves reading about themselves. But…did you say you wrote about me?”
“How could I leave you out?”
Tessa looked at her feet before glancing at the mint plant, which had wrapped new tendrils around pins in Australia, New Zealand, and an island north of the Arctic Circle. “Can you write for them and work for your other job—the thing in the Cook Islands?”
Paul looked down at his lap and rubbed the back of his neck. “Freelance work is flexible. Steady work is preferred.”
Her expression softened. “So you don’t want your whole life willy-nilly?” She waved her hands around in the air. “Just bouncing all over the place, never knowing where you’re going to land? You like having something steady?”
Paul glanced up at her. “I sense you’re making fun of me.”
“I’m half serious.”
Paul shrugged. “I like willy-nilly, so you say, but I like landing here too.”
Tessa’s smile slipped apart, and hope pressed its needy hands against the inside of her chest, expanding her ribcage with an inhale. “You like it here?”
Paul’s lips lifted on one side. He moved his laptop to the coffee table. “For multiple reasons.”
What reasons?
Paul watched her, and she rocked on her heels beneath his gaze.
“I believe Mom said that every Saturday morning you go to the diner for a lumberjack-size breakfast. I’d hate to bust up your traditions. Can I join you?”
Tessa nodded. Paul’s cell phone rang and vibrated the coffee table. The mint twitched in its pot. Paul glanced down at the blinking face of his phone and frowned. He lifted it and stared at the screen while the phone trembled in his hand and flashed colored lights against his cheeks.
“Something wrong?” Tessa asked.
When he looked up, his expression was blank, and his unfocused gaze stared at a spot over her shoulder. “It’s Natalie. My ex-fiancée.” With one swift movement, he answered the phone. “Hello?”
Air whooshed from Tessa’s lungs, and she deflated on the hardwood. Her heart thumped a painful, heavy rhythm, sounding like a base drum inside her head. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Her mouth dried. He was engaged? How could she have known? She knew little to nothing about Paul, and she’d been silly enough to believe they had a connection. But how could she connect with someone she didn’t even know?
Paul stood. “No, I’m in Mystic Water with Mom and Dad.” He glanced once at Tessa and jerked his head toward the bedroom. Then he walked away from her and closed the bedroom door behind him, officially shutting out Tessa.
Tessa’s throat tightened, and she blinked a few times, staring at the shut door. She couldn’t seem to pull enough air into her lungs. Pull yourself together. He was never going to stay. He has a life…somewhere. Maybe with Natalie. Tessa ignored the ex part of Natalie’s title. What kind of ex called anyway? The kind who’s not over him. The walls of the apartment pressed in. She had to get out of there.
Tessa grabbed her purse, closed her eyes, and inhaled. On the exhale, she opened her eyes and left the apartment, leaving Paul and Natalie alone to reminisce about willy-nilly lives and weddings that might need to be planned.
Tessa skipped Scrambled and opted to buy a pack of strawberry Pop-Tarts from the pharmacy, which she swallowed down with a can of Pepsi that burned her throat with its acidic bubbles. If only she could swallow down the disappointment. Gone was the feeling of being buoyed by Paul’s attention and interest. Now, feeling as fragile as antique glass, she slumped on a bench outside of the hardware store.
A whirl of wind whipped around the street corner and blew Tessa’s hair into her eyes. She pushed out her bottom lip and puffed the hairs from her face just in time to see a curly redhead plop down beside her on the bench.
“Tessa!” Nell Foster said with a smile as wide as the crack in Tessa’s heart.
“Hey, Nell. How’s the rental?”
Nell’s green eyes sparked with a joy that had been missing on their last meeting. “Great. Just great. I can’t thank you enough. Liam is happy. The kids are happy. I’m happy. You’re the bee’s knees, Tessa. I’ve been telling everybody what you did for us. For all of us.”
Tessa waved her hand in the air and sighed. “It’s the least I could do. I’m glad it’s working out.”
Nell’s smile was infectious, and Tessa’s lips tried to mimic her joyful expression.
Nell turned toward Tessa. “Now, you didn’t mention this to me, but you know how people talk, and I heard that your condo flooded over on Jordan Pond. And there you were helping me and you didn’t have a place either. I felt awful when I heard that, but then someone said,” Nell leaned closer to Tessa and lowered her voice, “that the Borellis were letting you stay in the apartment above the diner. I also heard they’re oldest son came for a visit, and he’s staying there.”
Tessa stared at the branches of a dogwood bending in the wind across the street. Thinking of Paul made her feel as though she burned from the inside with a slow, deliberate smolder that caused her to fidget. The Pop-Tarts squirmed in her stomach. She tried to inhale, but her lungs felt as flat as notebook paper. I can’t breathe, she thought.
When Nell didn’t say anything else, Tessa looked at her. Nell’s questioning expression and wide green eyes confused Tessa.
“Was there more to that story?” Tessa asked.
Nell’s mischievous grin scrunched the freckles scattered across her nose. “Is he staying there?”
“Yes.” Can we please not talk about him?
“With you?” Nell giggled like a girl. “I know it’s none of my business, but, Tessa, he’s a real looker, isn’t he? A regular Italian movie star and those gorgeous blue eyes. I wouldn’t blame you a bit if you were getting to know him.”
The back of Tessa’s neck burned in embarrassment. “It’s a one-bedroom apartment.”
Nell’s eyes twinkled, and she whispered, “Even better.”
Tessa shook her head. “No. No. We’re not…doing anything, and I’m not…well, I’m not staying there.” Even though she was lying, the words felt like the truth. “Actually, I bought Honeysuckle Hollow yesterday.”
Nell gasped and leaned away from Tessa. “Dr. Hamilton’s old place? Gosh, last I heard it was a real wreck.”
Tessa swallowed. “That pretty much sums it up, but I’m going to rehab it. I’m going to stay there.”
Nell gaped. “You mean now? Before it’s rehabbed?”
Tessa shrugged. The idea crept into her heart and beat steady and strong. “Yes.”
“Aren’t you a brave one?” Nell said. “Braver than me. I nearly died staying with my mother-in-law. I can’t imagine having the kids in a run-down house.”
“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? I don’t have anybody. It’s just me. Just me and Honeysuckle Hollow.”
Liam Foster walked out of the hardware store and nodded at Tessa before looking at his wife. “Ready, honey?”
Nell patted Tessa’s hand. “You be careful over there. Don’t…I dunno, fall through the floor or anything.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Tessa said, but Nell didn’t look like she believed Tessa. She waved goodbye and climbed into the SUV with her husband. Did Tessa believe her own declaration?
She dialed Charlie’s number. When Charlie answered, Tessa explained how she’d boarded up the windows the night before and she wanted to know when Charlie’s workers could get started on the rehab. Tessa could use the rest of her savings to pay for the work, and then when the sale of the condo was complete, she’d combine all her money and pay off the house and the workers for as long as she could.
“I thought I could get a group out there on Monday,
but it might be the following week or even longer,” Charlie said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how far behind my guys are because of the flood.”
Tessa chewed her bottom lip. “Nothing sooner?” Could she live in a house for weeks without stable electricity? Would the plumbing still work?
“I don’t wanna make you any promises about an exact date. But…”
“But what?” Tessa asked when Charlie didn’t continue.
“Well, a lot of guys are out of work because of the flood. They’re scrambling around for money because their job sites are out of commission. Those builders lost a good bit of homes, especially the guys in the basin areas.”
Tessa smelled the lingering sweet scent of honeysuckle blooms being carried on the breeze. She thought of how Honeysuckle Hollow had come to the rescue of so many in need. “Do you think any of them would be willing to work on a run-down Victorian?”
“I think they’d jump at the opportunity for the work. A lot of them have families they need to feed.”
Tessa thought of the weeds that were fighting for dominance of Honeysuckle Hollow’s garden. “Do you happen to know a good gardener? Someone who’s not afraid to tackle a yard that’s been growing out of control for two years?”
“I can call around, if you like. If anyone—gardener or worker—is free today, I can run over there and talk them through the basics. Could you meet us there?”
“The sooner the better.”
Tessa stood on the cracked sidewalk in front of Honeysuckle Hollow while husband and wife team Porter and Sylvia Potts attacked the weedy front yard. They’d already made a dent in the overgrowth. The herringbone pattern brick path leading up to the front door had been revealed. It was in need of leveling, and a few bricks poked vertically out of the ground as though they’d been slammed upward from beneath the earth. In a couple of hours, Tessa imagined the front garden would fit right in with the other manicured yards on Dogwood Lane.
Charlie was inside the house talking with a handful of workers, walking them through the different rooms and explaining what needed to be addressed first. Tessa followed behind them, nodding and tossing in her opinions. Her cell phone rang, and she walked out of the kitchen to answer it so Charlie could continue the tour without disturbance. But when Tessa saw that Paul was calling, she silenced the ringer and stared at his name and number without answering. Soon, the phone stopped vibrating, and within a few seconds, her phone notified her of a voice mail. An irritating combination of hope and angst tangled in her stomach. She pressed her lips together, and distant thunder rumbled. A gust of wind buffeted the tarp over the French doors, rippling the fabric like a sail.
Tessa’s fingers itched to play the voice mail, and her ears grew hot. Another burst of wind slammed against the tarp and ripped the tape away from the doorframe, snapping the thick fabric against Tessa’s legs. She flinched and backed away, leaning over to rub her calves. A slamming noise sounded from upstairs and something banged against a wall over and over again like a screen door butting against a house in strong winds.
Tessa grabbed the tarp and tried to stick the tape against the doorframe again. Charlie and the crew re-entered the kitchen.
“We’ll get it,” Charlie said, motioning for one of the men to help her. Tessa backed away, and Charlie glanced at Tessa over her shoulder while she held the tarp in place. “What’s that banging?”
“No idea. It’s coming from upstairs. I’ll go check it out,” Tessa said.
The stairs creaked as Tessa ascended them. The repeated thumping grew louder, and Tessa slowed. A door in the hallway had swung open, and it bounced against the wall, denting the sheetrock with its doorknob. Tessa had assumed that a closet was behind the door, but when she stood in the open doorway, she saw a set of stairs leading to an attic. A steady rush of air billowed down the staircase, and Tessa stood rooted at the bottom.
“I don’t like creepy attics,” she said, shaking her head. “It goes beyond my better judgment to hike up these stairs.” But curiosity pushed one foot in front of the other, and she grabbed the handrail and ascended the attic stairs. “Please don’t be creepy. Please don’t be creepy.”
Tessa exhaled in relief once she reached the top. Other than dust and a few dangling cobwebs, the attic housed no creepy mannequins or bat colonies. The exposed, slanted rafters held no moth-eaten wedding dresses. But a constant stream of air circled around the space and whipped dust around Tessa’s feet.
One round window against the far wall let in a circle of light that shone a beam onto a trunk pushed against its shared wall. Tessa walked to the window. It wasn’t damaged, so from where was the breeze coming? Thunder grumbled again, and gray clouds lumbered across the sky.
She knelt in front of the trunk and unlatched it. After flipping open the lid, Tessa saw stacks of books and photo albums. She grabbed one of the albums and sat on the floor. Scribbled on the inside cover were the words Wedding Day, 1957. After looking at the first few photographs, Tessa realized the wedding had taken place in Honeysuckle Hollow’s backyard garden.
Tessa flipped through the pages and smiled at the happiness that oozed from the fading pictures and seeped through her fingertips, traveling up her arms to her heart. A photograph adhered to the bottom of the next page captured two young men, who had to be brothers, and one young girl, standing with her hands clasped together in front of her, smiling shyly at the camera and staring at Tessa with her dark eyes. Tessa’s smile faltered. She lifted the book closer to her face. Crazy Kate. Tessa lowered the book into her lap. Rain slapped against the round window. She heard laughter rising from the backyard.
Tessa stood and peered out the window. Rain fell from the sky and sparkled in the sunlight. She squinted down at the yard. Were people outside? Tessa didn’t see anyone, but what she did see trapped her breath halfway up her throat and paused her heart.
Watery outlines of people gathered in the backyard. The window glass muffled their faraway voices. Three misty people stood near the oak tree. Two of them held hands and looked at each other while the third person held an open book in his hands. A group of guests sat facing the couple. The wedding? Thunder disturbed the silence. The ghostly group looked up and then they scattered, holding their hands over their heads and running for the house. Most of the guests disappeared, leaving only a few standing in the yard, staring up at the rain. Tessa heard their laughter.
The storm clouds split apart and thick beams of sunlight covered the yard. The watery gathering was gone. Tessa closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, the rain had stopped, and the backyard was empty. She pushed away from the window.
Tessa rubbed her hands down her face. Then she returned the photo album to the trunk. She turned her back to the window and faced the rest of the attic. “Honeysuckle Hollow, are you trying to tell me something?” Something along the lines of I’m losing my mind?
17
Blackberry Cobbler
Tessa’s cell phone rang in her pocket, and she screamed. She glanced at the caller. Paul. She squeezed the phone in her hand, desperately wanting to answer it, but not wanting to subject herself to further disappointment. She could already imagine him saying, That was Natalie, my perfect not-for-long-ex-fiancée. She loves willy-nilly living, and I’m leaving immediately so that we can get on with our perfect lives. Good luck in the run-down house.
Tessa wanted to answer and tell Paul what she’d just seen out the attic window; she wanted to tell him about the backyard wedding that Crazy Kate had attended. She wanted to ask him if he believed in the house, but what she needed more than that was distance—distance between Paul and her clingy feelings for him. She silenced the phone and slipped it into her back pocket. “He’ll be gone Sunday. Tomorrow. Remember that.”
She pulled out her notepad and tapped it against her palm. “I need a plan. I need a place to stay. I can stay here, but I’ll need…a bed, for starters.” Tessa opened the notepad and flipped through the pages of questions. Most of them had a
ll five numbers filled in with advice offered to her by friends and family, until she reached the newest pages concerning Honeysuckle Hollow. She’d been impulsive and erratic, buying a house and attaching to a stranger for comfort. Tessa sighed. The consequences of her recklessness had always wounded her. Could she start damage control and try to salvage the mess?
Tessa closed the notepad and slipped it back into her pocket. She looked around the attic. “Maybe staying here won’t be so bad. It’ll be like…camping.” But I hate camping and bugs and killer bats and no toilets and… “But this is camping indoors,” she argued with herself. Is it? She nodded. “Let’s check the plumbing.”
Tessa found Charlie downstairs finishing up with the workers. She pulled Charlie aside. “How about the pipes?”
Charlie stared at her. “Could you be more specific?”
“The plumbing. Can I use the water? Or the toilets? Or just a toilet would be nice because I just can’t stay here without a working toilet, and I have to stay here. I mean, what would I do without a toilet? It wouldn’t be acceptable to think of the backyard as a bathroom—”
Charlie waved her hands around. “Whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute, will ya? I feel as though you’re about to get a crazy tick in your eye.”
Tessa lifted her fingers to her left eye and pressed. She inhaled and exhaled. “I think I almost unraveled. Sorry.”
“Almost?” Charlie asked. “The pipes are good. They were updated a few years ago, so there’re no problems with the plumbing that we can see for now. The water was never shut off here, for whatever reason. I have a contact down at the water works, and she told me that it’s still on. Here, I’ll show you.” Charlie led Tessa into the downstairs bathroom where Tessa had found the cat. Charlie flushed the toilet, and Tessa leaned over her and watched the vortex of water swirl in the bowl and disappear.
“Thank goodness.”
Honeysuckle Hollow Page 18
