“How long do you think it’ll take to strip it right back?”
“With this number of people, demo should be done in a day, maybe two.”
I look around, and there has to be easily twenty people working here. “This is amazing.”
“See that guy over there?” He points to an older man wheeling debris from inside the house, down the makeshift ramp, and to the giant dumpster.
“Yeah.”
“He said his daddy helped build this place with Old Roger. And he wanted to help, so he can say to his children and grandchildren that he helped rebuild it.”
“Wow,” I say. This town is forever surprising me. “The plans are all good. Once we’ve stripped her down, then we’ll start putting her back together. The concrete trucks should be here Friday morning to pour the foundation for the extension.”
“I’m already digging the footings out. They’ll be done by tomorrow at the latest.”
“Excuse me, Charlie?” one of the young guys interrupts us.
“What is it?” Charlie says, getting down to business.
“We’ve got a problem in the back.” He looks nervous, like he’s afraid to tell us.
“What’s the problem?” I ask as the three of us head out back to see what’s happening.
There are four guys standing around looking at something.
“Ah, that tree’s roots are growing up under here.” Charlie gets into the ditch, to see that the roots have destroyed the old clay pipes running under the ground. “Part of old houses, boys,” Charlie says. The guys back away, and wait for further instruction.
“That tree is too pretty to get rid of,” I say looking up at the beautiful overhanging branches.
“I’ll get someone to come look at it, Hope. It’s not healthy; you can see that. The branches look dry and dark, and the leaves aren’t healthy and green. But, let me get someone in, and we’ll see if it’s worth keeping. If it is, you’ll have to make this bump-out smaller. We won’t be able to have the extra space come out so far.”
I look up at the tree. I’d hate for it to go, but if it’s not healthy, it’ll destroy the house if it falls. There’s still the beautiful tree out the front. “Get someone in, let’s see what they say.”
Charlie turns and gives further instructions to everyone, before hoisting himself out of the hole, and retrieving his phone from his pocket. I head inside to look at what progress is being made.
The downstairs is about half ripped down, and I can hear a lot of commotion from upstairs, so I carefully avoid getting hit by fly away materials, as I take the rickety steps up to the second level.
“Jesus,” I say. Demo upstairs is nearly done. There are still a few original walls, but most have been taken down. I assume the walls still standing are load bearing, which will mean we can’t remove them without putting temporary support beams in first. And we can’t do any of that until we know exactly what we’re working with.
“Excuse me, Miss Hope,” one of the guys says to me.
“Yes?” I smile.
“Is Mr. Charlie somewhere? I need to show him something.”
“You can show me.”
“Okay.” He leads me to a far corner, and points. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“Shit.” Kneeling down, I run my hand over the wood and it crumbles in my hand. “Termites.”
“Yes, sorry,” he says again, as if it’s his fault.
“Is this the only area you’ve seen them?”
“No, some more here.” He points to another spot.
“Alright, thank you.” Some of these planks have been completely destroyed. It looks like the termites have only just started feasting. He walks away and continues ripping things up, and throwing them out, leaving me to deal with the termite issues.
Charlie comes up to find me still kneeling, as I look around. “Termites?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Tent or replace?”
“I’m not sure yet. We’ll wait until everything is out, then we can make a decision.”
Charlie walks around the massive area upstairs, closely inspecting every exposed piece of wood. “I’ll call a specialist and let you know what they recommend,” Charlie says as he looks down at his phone.
This house is a hive of activity. It’s loud, and there are a ton of voices with the expected accompaniment of swearing. Building sites are always filled with testosterone, men who sweat, and loads of colorful language.
“What the hell?” I hear Charlie call.
“What is it?”
“The fucking cat,” he says, looking beside me. I almost forgot about the cat.
“He helped me pick out a stone countertop.” I pet the cat before heading back down the rickety, scary steps and going into the bathroom. This seems untouched, so I run out to my truck, grab my tool belt, and return to the bathroom. Yes, demo day! I love demo day almost as much as Charlie does.
All the workers have left, and it’s just Charlie and me at the house. And the cat.
“This place is so big. I can’t quite get over how large it is.”
I look around, and totally agree with him. “What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask.
“Pest control will be here first thing, and then we’ll know where we stand with the termites. I think we can replace some things, but it might be cheaper not to replace everything. We’ll see what the pest guy says. Then, I have someone coming to look at the tree out back. If it’s dead, I’ll arrange to have it ripped out.”
“Concrete’s coming Friday for the footings.”
“Okay, if we need to tent it, we can still do the stuff outside. The footings, pouring, all of that,” Charlie says.
“What do you think? Eight weeks?”
“For here? Nope, I think closer to twelve.”
“Okay, let’s try and get it done in twelve.”
“Hope, we’re tearing nearly everything out, and restarting. Anyway, I’m tired, and hungry, and I’m going home. How long will you stay for?”
“I’m going to walk it, and see if I can come up with anything else.”
Charlie runs his dirty hand through his hair. “You like your quiet time. I’ll see you back at the house. If I’m snoring, don’t wake me.”
“I won’t.”
He goes to his truck and takes his work boots off. He throws them in the back, then walks around the driver’s side. “Want me to pick you anything up for dinner?”
“Nah, I might head into town. Grab something there.”
“See ya.”
He closes the door to the truck, starts the engine, and pulls onto the road. I know Charlie’s tired, but he loves this as much as I do. It’s in our blood.
Meow.
“You should’ve gone with Charlie. He could’ve fed you.”
Meow.
Note to self, grab another bowl so he can have food here too. “You’ll have to wait until we get home.”
Meow.
Once back inside, I take the plans out, and keep looking at them, trying to visualize how everything will turn out. This place will be so large. I think multiple generations will be able to live here comfortably.
“Have you been avoiding me?”
The deep voice makes me jump out of my skin. Turning, River’s standing at the door holding a pizza box. “No, why?”
“I bought a pizza, and saw you were here, so thought I’d stop by and see if you’re hungry.” Pursing my lips together, I raise my brows in question. “More like I was hoping you’d be here, because I want us to talk.”
“River, we’ve gone over this. There’s nothing for us to talk about. In a few weeks, I’ll be done here and gone.”
“Come, sit with me. Have something to eat.” He opens the lid, enticing me with the aroma of the pepperoni, and the sight of the molten cheese.
“Pizza is a sin.” But so damn good.
“Yes, yes, it is. Now, come on.”
He sits on the front porch, where we were less than a week ago. I sit to the side
, making sure the pizza box is between us. “Thank you, I’m starving.”
“I thought you would be.”
He waits until I take a piece, before he takes one too. “You and I, River…”
He holds his hand up, stopping me from saying anything else. “Tonight, we’re just two friends having dinner. That’s it. There’s no pressure, no explanations, no anythings. I heard Gran helped you with the permits.”
Why am I even surprised that everyone knows what’s happening? “Yeah, she did.”
“And there’s problems with the tree out the back?”
I blink, still not believing how much he knows. “Do you have a direct line to what’s happening here?”
He smiles. His gorgeous chin dimple highlights his strong, square jawline. “Everyone’s talking about the house. They’re super excited about what you’re doing here.” He looks behind him.
Meow.
The cat tiptoes over and curls up next to me.
“So you’ll sell it once it’s done?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Plans can change. Anything can happen,” he says. “See, you’ve got a cat. Maybe you and the cat can move in.”
“Nope. Way too big for me.”
“You might end up having your own family, Hope. You never know, you might grow into this place.”
“I don’t see that being in the cards for me, River.”
River bites into his pizza and looks around. “I think you need to stop being so damn controlling and uptight,” he says as he takes another bite.
Wait, what? “Sorry?” I say.
“You’re being a stubborn ass. You’re meant to be here, with me. And the sooner you get out of your own damned way, the better it’ll be, for both of us.” He takes yet another bite.
He’s rendered me speechless. I find myself kinda turned on by him right now. But the logical part of my brain is jumping up and down, having a tantrum. “Problem is, River, whatever we could have won’t last. I’m leaving once this house is finished.”
“No, you won’t. You’re supposed to be here.”
“Stop trying to get in my head. It’s not going to work.”
River offers me another slice, but I shake my head. He closes the box, then stands. “I don’t have to do anything. You’re already questioning if it’s the right decision for you to leave. If I have anything to do with it, you’ll be staying. Maybe this house is too big for you. You could move in with me.”
The moment I’m on my feet, I’ve disturbed the sleeping cat. But the anger fueling me doesn’t give a shit if I’ve disturbed the cat or not. River’s walking back to his truck, completely oblivious to how wrong he is, or even how he’s making me feel. “Hey,” I say loudly, but making sure I’m not yelling because I don’t want to wake the neighbors. He keeps walking. I run up and stand in front of him. He stops walking and looks down at me. “You have no right in telling me…no, you’ve…can’t.” I’m tongue tired and muddled. I want to yell and scream, but I won’t. “You can’t, you’re…” I poke him in the chest, mad at him. He’s standing there, looking amused. “Stop being so smug, you bastard.”
“Now I’m a bastard, am I? Why, because I’m right? Because we belong together? Or because you’re a pain in the ass who’s standing in the way of her own happiness?”
“You don’t think I’m happy? Why, because I’m not dating someone? I need to be dating to be happy? I’ll have you know…”
He drops the pizza box, and pounces on me. He passionately weaves his hands through my hair, and demands my mouth with his. He untangles his left hand from my hair, and places it around my lower hip, pulling me closer to him. I fight him, wanting to get away, but my resolve is dwindling the longer we stay connected.
I find my strength and push back from him. “You…” I shake my finger at him, still unable to form a coherent sentence. “You…” I say again, stepping further away from him.
He stands tall, looking damned pleased with himself.
I want to scream and yell, and smack him. I want to do so many things. But the biggest emotion overriding every negative one, is lust. I want him to grab me and kiss me again. I want to taste him, feel his naked warm body up against mine. Jesus, I’ve missed him so much. My body is reacting in the craziest of ways.
And I do something I never thought I’d do. I fly into his arms, and jump up, wrapping my legs around his hips. Our mouths stay connected, grazing, kissing, owning.
Arching my back, River’s hand slips under my shirt, touching my heated skin. Jesus, what am I doing? Why am I so crazy around him?
“Hope,” he whispers.
His lips touch my neck, and trail softly up to my ear.
“God, yes,” I say as I keep my eyes closed and tilt my head to the side.
“We should take this inside, unless you want everyone to watch.”
“Watch…yes. What? No!” I push away again. “Put me down, please.” River hesitantly, carefully places me to my feet. He looks just as confused as I feel. “We can’t do this, River.” His hands are still possessively clasping onto my hips, refusing to completely let me go.
“Why not?”
There’s a lurching in my chest as I break away from him. “Because we’ve never worked before. I can’t fall for you again.” Damn dust mites. I wipe at my eyes. “I couldn’t survive that happening again. It’s easier if we don’t start anything. That way, I can’t get hurt.”
He walks away from me, shaking his head. Turning, he stops and says, “You’re not the only one who risks getting hurt, Hope.” He turns again, walking away from me.
I have to tell myself, it’s for the best.
So why does it hurt so much?
The house has to be tented for two to three days. This morning, I’m taking myself back down to the ocean where Tabitha and I went to the growers’ market.
I park close by, and walk down to all the stalls. Along with the seafood and all the different fresh produce, there’s also an assortment of handmade crafts, jams, cookies, breads, everything a person could want. It’s later in the morning than the last time I was here, and now it’s bustling with so many people.
I walk around from stall to stall, having a look at all the local products available. But what’s really drawing me in is the sound of the water crashing up against the shore.
One of the vendors is selling fresh homemade donuts. I can smell the cinnamon sugar drifting through the air, mingling with so many other tempting aromas. It’s loud, and busy, but there’s also a calmness to the area.
“Hi, Hope,” someone says.
I have no idea who’s calling me and when I turn, I see the little girl from the flower festival. Crap, what’s her name? “Hello…” I stall for a second, trying to remember her name. “Rose! How are you?”
“I’m good, thank you. How are you?” Seriously, this kid is way too grown up.
“I’m very well, thank you. Are you waiting for some donuts too?” I ask. Her mom turns and gives me a small smile.
“Yeah, these are so yummy. Do you like donuts, or do you love donuts? Because I love donuts.” She rubs her little belly.
“I love them so much. And I’m thinking I’m going to buy some for my brother Charlie, because he loves donuts even more than I do.”
She smiles angelically at me. She’s such a cute kid. Her soft brown curls fall halfway down her back, and her big brown eyes are full of expression. “Mommy and Daddy said Old Roger’s house is going to look really good when you’re finished.” She motions for me to come close to her. When I do, she whispers, “I heard them talking about us moving into it.”
This is news to me. “Oh. Maybe you’ll have a new home soon.”
She gives me a huge grin. “Rose, come on, it’s our turn,” her mom says. She looks at me again. “Hi, I’m Tania. And I’m sorry, but I already know everything about you.” Sounds creepy, but it’s not. It’s small-town life.
“Hopefully not everything,” I say, with sass.
&
nbsp; “My husband and I are really eager to see what you’re going to do with Old Roger’s house. We’ve been thinking about moving into something bigger. When do you think you’ll be finished with the house?”
“We’re giving ourselves four, maybe five months to finish, hopefully sooner.” I know Charlie and I have already said we want to push it out in twelve weeks, but I’d rather tell people longer and finish sooner than the other way around.
“Have you set a list price yet?”
“Not yet, sorry. But, if you’d like to give me your number, I can always call you when I do.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh, my goodness, I’d love that! Thank you. I’ve driven past a few times. Yes, I know it sounds like I’m stalking, and I kind of am,” she openly admits with a laugh.
I take my phone out, and type in her name and number. “It’s okay. I became aware fairly quickly how important that house is to everyone.”
“It used to be one of the finest houses in all of Hope River, but then…” Her enthusiasm dies down. “Anyway, thank you. If there’s anything I can do to help around the house, I’d be happy to do anything. Painting, cleaning, anything.”
“Thank you.” How generous.
“Come on, Rose. Let’s go. See you around, Hope.” Tania smiles, and Rose waves as she eats her donut while they walk away.
“How can I help you?” the donut guy says.
“Can I get two dozen please.”
He packs twenty-four in a box, and I pay him. Walking toward the ocean, I see a coffee cart, so I stop and grab myself a coffee. It’s such a lovely day, that I head down to the beach to people watch. Nothing stalker-ish or bizarre than sitting on a bench, drinking a coffee, eating from a box of twenty-four donuts while watching people in their bathing suits. Nope, nothing weird about that.
“Hi, Hope,” a woman says as she walks past.
No idea who that was. “Hi,” I call, and offer her a small wave with my donut hand.
The sun is climbing, and although it’s not overly hot, there are still people laying on beach towels, and swimming in the ocean. Funny because it’s a weekday, but still kind of early. It’s like they’re on their own time schedule. Don’t people work around here?
Hope's River Page 18
