Rowan Revived

by Colbert, Taylor Danae

  “Hi, Caleb,” she says warmly. His little cheeks flush pink as he tucks himself behind me on the bottom step.

  “Are you all...staying here?” the woman asks. Caleb nods. She turns to Jesse again.

  “They are paying guests,” he says, clearly worried that the woman is making the same assumption that I think she is.

  “Paying?” she says, turning to face him completely. She takes a few steps closer to him, her voice going quieter. “Please tell me you, like, made the beds at least?”

  Jesse doesn’t answer.

  “Pillows?” she asks. He shrugs. She leans into one hip and crosses her arms over her chest. “Did you at least dust the fucking furniture?”

  Then she remembers Caleb.

  “Oh,” she says, covering her mouth, “sorry, sweetie.”

  “It’s okay,” Caleb says. “I know I’m not supposed to say the fuck-word.”

  My jaw drops as Caleb hops off the bottom step, making his dinosaurs fly through the air as he does.

  “I’m so sorry for my mouth,” the woman says to me, putting a hand to her chest. I smile and wave it off.

  “I told them they could stay as-is. The inn is technically closed,” Jesse says. I can’t figure out who this woman is, but I sort of like the way she looks him directly in the eye. The way she owns the room. The way she makes him back into a corner a bit, gruffness and all.

  “Yeah. We’re paying double,” Caleb says, his eyes still on his dinosaur. I swallow. This kid catches way too much.

  Now, the woman’s eyes are squinty and pointed directly at Jesse, fire burning behind them.

  “My word,” she whispers, taking a breath. She turns to us quickly. “I’m so sorry. My brother has never been the best at the hospitality business.” Then, she saunters over to him. She takes her big-ass Coach bag off of her shoulder, and swings it at him as hard as she can. She pulls it back, and swings again.

  “Are you friggin’ kidding me? You’re charging them double to sleep on a bed with no pillows, a bathroom with no towels, and no goddamn breakfast?” He’s shielding himself from the blows, and I am trying desperately not to laugh. Caleb’s eyes are wide with excitement.

  The woman collects herself and walks toward us again.

  “I am so, so sorry. I’m Josie Rowan, Jesse’s older, and much wiser sister,” she says, sticking out a perfectly-manicured hand to me. “You’re not paying double—the nighty cost will be just fine, and your first night will be completely free seeing as you would have been better off sleeping in the barn with the other animal that lives out there. My brother here will have breakfast ready for you in a jiff—”

  “Oh, no, really. We were just about to go grab some food, and—”

  “No, no. Please, the cost of breakfast is in the nightly fee. I’ll have the beds made up this morning, too, and your rooms will be cleaned by lunch. Again, so sorry. If my parents could see how this place looked while you were staying here, they’d be jumping off the dock. So sorry, again. If there’s anything you need, please, let us know.”

  Then, she turns to Jesse and nods to the front door. He sighs, grabs his keys off the table, and trudges out the door like a sad puppy.

  I sneak over to one of the huge windows in the front room, and see Josie reaching into her wallet. She pulls out a credit card and shoves it in Jesse’s direction. Then she points to his truck as if he’s a child. He stomps over to it and drives off, full temper-tantrum mode. I chuckle to myself. I am a big fan of Josie Rowan.

  She pulls her cell phone out of her bag as he speeds off, with the ease of a woman whose purse is perfectly organized, and I hear her requesting a cleaning service for the afternoon. She marches back up the porch steps, her heels clicking across the wood. She steps inside and sighs.

  “I am just...I’m so sorry about all this. I promise this is not how things normally are here.”

  “Oh, it’s fine, really,” I say, waving her off. “We’re just happy to be here.”

  “Where are ya’ll traveling from?” she asks, her long, straight blonde hair falling perfectly on her shoulders.

  “Boston,” I say. She nods.

  “That’s a long ways away. Just a weekend trip?” she asks.

  “We might not go back to see my daddy,” Caleb says, just before he runs out the front door to catch up with Coby in the grass. Josie looks toward me.

  I swallow nervously.

  “I don’t need to know,” she says, holding up her hands. “But just know that you are welcome to a room here as long as you need it. Lord knows, we could use the business.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear about your parents. It looked like they really did a lot with this place,” I say. She smiles and nods, walking toward the parlor. I follow her, and she motions to a wicker chair.

  “They did. This place was the gem of the Chesapeake for over forty years,” she says, a sadness creeping into her voice. She sits down in the chair next to me and crosses one of her long legs over the other.

  “When we lost them, my brother sort of lost himself,” she says. I nod. I get that, way more than most people would.

  “So, your parents left the inn to you two?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she says, “but I’m just out of law school—change of careers, for me—and fresh at a firm in D.C.” Ah, that explains all the designer stuff and the impeccable taste in shoes. “So I’m afraid I’m not much help. It was all sort of left to Jess, and as you can see, it was a bit much for him. He’s hoping to fix it up enough to sell it, which will tear us both apart. But I’m not sure what other options we have… I can only make it out here once or twice a month.” Her blue eyes trail to windows, staring out over the bay.

  “Growing up here must have been amazing,” I say, following her gaze. I can’t imagine having a place like this to myself, and then having to let it go.

  “It was,” she says, smiling. “It was a complete dream.”

  A little while later, I hear the rumbling of Jesse’s truck pull up. He trudges back up the porch steps, Caleb and Coby following close behind him.

  He walks past us and into the kitchen, dropping a ton of grocery bags on the big wooden table in the center.

  Josie and I start to help him unpack the groceries, and Caleb parks himself at the table.

  Jesse grabs a small brown bag from the corner of the table and walks over to Caleb.

  “Special delivery,” he says, plopping it down in front of him. Caleb rustles through the bag and pulls out a giant chocolate donut.

  “Yum!” he says, biting into it like he’s never eaten a day in his life.

  “Thank you,” I say to Jesse. He nods, walking by me like I barely exist. I don’t know why, seeing as he has been nothing but an ass since I got here, but I want to exist to him.

  “So, what do you two have planned today?” Josie asks, pulling up a chair at the table next to Caleb.

  “Fishin’!” Caleb says, licking the chocolate from his fingers.

  “Oh, well, uh, the dock’s got a few missing planks. It’s closed,” Jesse says. Josie glares at him, and he just scratches his head and walks toward the door. He turns slowly to Caleb. “Sorry, kid.”

  Jesse exits the kitchen slowly, and we hear him go out the front door and down the porch steps.

  “Aunt Lee, I wanted to fish,” Caleb says, and my heart is breaking from the sadness in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie,” Josie says. “Do you like swings?” Caleb perks up a little, nodding his little head. “We have an awesome tire swing out back. After you finish your donut, I can show you?”

  “Okay,” he mutters.

  “So, you’re his aunt?” Josie asks, turning to me.

  “Oh, yes,” I say. “My sister is asleep upstairs.”

  She nods.

  “Ah, wonderful. Well tonight, I have one of our old chefs coming to make dinner,” Josie says. Wow, this place really was full-service. “You two enjoy your morning. I’m gonna go see what I can help my crazy brother with around here.” />
  “Thanks, Josie,” I say.

  As soon as Caleb is done with his final bite, he hops up from the table.

  “Can we swing now?” he asks. I smile and nod, dragging him to the sink to clean him up. We step outside, and I’m instantly calmed by the combination of the shining sun and the sound of the soft bay waves lapping against the dock.

  Caleb pulls me toward the huge oak tree that sits a few yards back from the water where the giant tire swing sits. He climbs on.

  “Push me, Aunt Lee!” he shouts. I do, back and forth, closing my eyes to soak in the sun.

  “For fuck’s sake, Jesse,” I hear Josie saying from way across the yard. “I have a feeling they’ve been through some shit. Can’t you just fix the goddamn dock for the kid?”

  “Jesus Christ, Josie,” he says. “If all you’re gonna do is bitch at me while you’re here, you might as well take your ass back to D.C. We’ve been through some shit, too. I have an inn to sell. I don’t have time for this,” he says, storming into the big red barn and slamming the doors shut behind him. That seems to be his signature move.

  For lunch, Caleb, Millie and I drive over the bridge into town. There’s a small sandwich shop on the water that Josie told us about called Leaman’s. Out back is a big playground, and Caleb is loving life.

  “So, what’s the sister like?” Millie asks, clapping the crumbs off of her hands.

  “She’s great,” I say. “Nothing like Jesse. She’s got her shit together. Super sweet,” I say.

  “Yeah, well. Let’s not be too quick to judge. I don’t exactly have my shit together,” Millie says with a sad smile. I take her hand.

  “Hey,” I say. She looks up at me. “We’re gonna get our shit together. Without him.”

  She nods, resting her head on my shoulder.

  Dinner that night is amazing. The chef made a huge pot of Maryland crab soup, a gigantic Caesar salad, and Chicken Chesapeake as the main course. For dessert, he brings out a rich cheesecake, and before we know it, Caleb is rubbing his eyes.

  “Okay, little man,” Millie says, scooping him up from the table. “You’ve had an adventurous day. I think it’s time for some bed.” Normally, Caleb avoids bedtime like the plague. But I think a few days on the bay have done him good and zapped a lot of his pent-up energy. He raises his arms for Millie, and they say goodnight.

  “I hope we can fish soon, mama,” we hear him say as they make their way out of the room.

  My eyes flash to Jesse from across the table.

  “Well, I’m going to get some shut-eye myself,” Josie says, standing from the table. “I have a long drive back to the city tomorrow. Goodnight, all.”

  “Goodnight, Josie,” I say. “Thank you again. Dinner was amazing.” She pats my shoulder before she makes her way upstairs. And before I know it, it’s just Jesse and I.

  He stands up from the table, and turns awkwardly. I think if it were socially acceptable, and if he wasn’t so afraid his sister might see, he would have actually run away from me. He pauses and scratches the back of his head.

  “Well, uh, I’m gonna head out, so uh, night,” he says, starting to make his way to the backdoor.

  “I heard you’re trying to sell the place,” I say. I’m not ready for him to leave yet for some inexplicable reason. He pauses at the back door.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “I’m sorry about how everything went down after your parents passed,” I say, Millie’s warning against being too quick to judge ringing in my ear. Maybe if I just show him a little compassion, he’ll show me another side to him. “Josie says this all sort of fell on you.”

  He turns to me slightly.

  “Did she tell you how I let it all go to shit?” he asks with a scoff.

  “No,” I say. “She said it was a big burden to bear, though. It must be hard to let it all go.” He scoffs again.

  “It’s easier than you think,” he says. “I can’t wait to be done with this place.”

  Then he turns, and storms out the back door.

  Okay, I was wrong.

  This guy doesn’t have another side.

  5

  Jesse

  I wake up to the sun beating down on my face and a pain in my back, and I realize I fell asleep on the dock again. I pull myself up and walk back off the water to go change. As I’m making my way around the house, I freeze when I see her on the patio.

  She’s got her nose in another book—I’m pretty sure this is not the same one she was reading yesterday, or the day before that. Not that I’m paying that much attention.

  As I walk hesitantly toward her, she lifts her eyes to me. I freeze.

  “I made sure you were breathing,” she says. I nod and scratch the back of my neck. It’s this habit I have when I get uncomfortable or...jittery.

  “Uh, thanks,” I say. I feel like I need to explain it to her. Tell her that sometimes I have trouble sleeping in the barn, or the house, or anywhere, really, where I have any sort of memory of them. But I don’t. And what’s even more interesting, is she doesn’t ask.

  “Maybe you should leave a pillow or a blanket out here, if you’re gonna keep having slumber parties under the stars,” she says, closing the book and hopping up from the chair. She disappears through the back door, and although my eyes are basically glued to her ass, my fists are clenched in annoyance. Man, she’s a pain.

  And after all that shit my sister made me do for them while she was here...ugh. Not exactly how I was intending on spending my weekend—catering to a kid and two women, one of whom has the ability to piss me off from a mile away. But Josie was right: they are paying customers. I can practically feel my mom’s knowing glare and hear her toe tapping.

  Damn, what I wouldn’t give to see her standing like that in the kitchen again, telling me to “remember to tend to the guests.”

  Pops with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Listen to your mama, Jess,” I can hear him say. A flash of a sad smile washes over my lips as I walk back into the barn. Sometimes when I’m here, it’s like they are right here with me. But when I remember they’re not, it feels like this place is crushing me.

  I walk up the steps to my room and nudge the door open, taking off my shirt as I walk. This barn is my space. My parents let me move out here when I graduated from high school, and to be fair, it was a sweet little bachelor pad. It was easy as hell, sneaking girls in here when I was younger. It’s my sanctuary, this barn. My parents added working plumbing, insulated my room, and gave me the freedom I wanted. After they died last year, I couldn’t bring myself to move back into the house. That was their space. This is mine.

  I walk into my bathroom and turn the shower on, unbuttoning my jeans as I move. I spin around, and just as I’m about to pull on the waistband of my boxers, I freeze. Because she’s here, standing in the doorway of my bedroom, staring at me while I’m practically naked.

  “What the fuck!” I call out, stepping backward into the bathroom and slamming the door. I grab the towel off the rack and wrap it around my waist before I open it back up, completely fuming.

  But when I open the door, she’s gone. I sprint out of my bedroom and look down the stairs. She’s running down them and jolting across the barn floor.

  “Hey!” I call again. She freezes at the barn doors. I march down the steps, growling under my breath. “What the hell were you doing?” She turns to me slowly, her big blue eyes wide as she stares up at me.

  I watch as they scan my body, and I get that twitch in my crotch again. I inhale sharply and shake it off. I lean on one of my hips and cross my arms over my chest. I raise an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

  “Caleb took off after Coby. I thought they might have come in here,” she says. I take a step closer to her, breathing her in as I do. We’re a few inches apart now, and I’m glaring down at her. Her face is inches from my bare chest. And though I’m trying to be tough, intimidating, keeping up that “leave me alone” attitude, the flowery smell of her hair is driving me a lit
tle nuts. So much so that I take a step back. I exhale and clear my throat.

  “They’re not in here,” I say. She nods. “But I am. This is my room. I’d appreciate a knock now and then. Or better yet, just no visitors at all.”

  Now, she crosses her arms over her chest and shoots me a look.

  “You’re such a welcoming host,” she says. I shrug my shoulders.

  “That’s why I’m sellin’ the place. Not so good at the family business,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes, then they catch mine. Slowly, but surely, they drop to my jawline, to my chest, and down to my stomach. I watch as her eyebrow twitches ever so lightly, then she turns on her heel and leaves the barn. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t watch her, with every damn step she took away from me.

  Later that night, I’m back at the Broken Shell. It’s right before the busy hour, and I’m drying off some glasses behind the bar, staring blankly ahead at a painting of the bay that sits crooked on the wall.

  “What’s eatin’ you?” Berta asks, carrying over another crate of glasses from the dishwasher.

  I let out a long sigh and shrug my shoulders.

  “Nothin’,” I say, but she rolls her eyes, and honestly, I should know better. Aside from my parents and my sister, no one really knows me like Berta. “I had a busy weekend. We have some guests at the inn, and—”

  “Whoa, whoa...guests?” she asks. I nod.

  “They rolled in last week,” I say. Berta shifts her head back.

  “They?”

  “Yeah. This woman, her kid, and her sister,” I say, with a bitter snip on my tongue as I mention her. Berta looks at me for a minute, then a sly smile crosses over her lips.

  “So the sister’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning up against the bar.

  “Actually, she’s a giant pain in my ass,” I say, lifting up one of the crates to stack it on another. Berta lets out a snort.

  “That don’t mean she’s not cute,” she says. I give her a playful look and keep stacking. I will not confirm or deny. “Well, look. It can’t hurt to have the business, Josie’s right. And besides, it’s also not a bad thing for you to have some damn human interaction for a change. I worry about you, Jess.”