Tiny House in the Trees

by Celia Bonaduce

  “Hey, Molly,” Officer Melon said. “What are you doing here?”

  Molly went through myriad reasons why she was here.

  She was driving by and saw the gate open?

  She’d thought Bale was back and stopped to chat?

  It occurred to her someone must have reported her, so perhaps she should confess?

  “I’m staying here watching the place while Bale’s away,” she said, opting for a version of the truth.

  “That explains it,” Officer Melon said. “We had a report that there was some activity on the lot, so I thought I’d check it out. How is Bale doing?”

  “He’s… He doesn’t really keep in touch while he’s away. You know how that goes.”

  “Yep,” Officer Melon said. “I know how that goes.”

  He nodded sagely, as if knowing how not keeping in touch goes was the stuff of enlightenment.

  “Is there anything else?”

  “Nope. That’ll do it,” Officer Melon said, giving Molly a little salute.

  As he walked back to the patrol car, something occurred to Molly.

  “Officer Melon?”

  He turned around, eyebrows arched waiting for her to finish her thought.

  “How did you get in here?” Molly asked. “I’m sure I locked the gate before I left this morning.”

  A smug grin spread across the officer’s round face. He walked back to her, eyes darting in both directions to make sure he was not overheard.

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” he whispered, “but that lock of Bale’s? Easiest model to pick in the whole world.”

  Chapter 22

  Bale sat at the coffee shop, pretending to look at his phone, while he kept an eye out for Violet. He was sitting at an outdoor table so Thor could keep him company—and for moral support. The waitress had brought a bowl of water for the dog along with Bale’s coffee. Bale hoped Thor would hurry up and drink. Thor was a noisy slurper, and when every drop of water was lapped up, his little white beard dripped sumptuously. Bale wanted time to clean him up before Violet arrived and Thor covered her with kisses.

  “Come on, little guy, cut me some slack,” Bale said to the dog, whose head was deep in the bowl.

  Thor looked up and wagged his tail. The bowl was empty.

  “Good dog,” Bale said.

  He wiped Thor’s whiskers just in time. He caught sight of Violet’s purple truck pulling into the parking lot just as he judged Thor presentable for kissing.

  He wished he had someone who could judge him presentable for kissing.

  “Hi, strangers,” Violet called as she walked toward them.

  “Hi,” Bale said as Thor strained at his leash. “Looks like Thor missed you.”

  “It’s always good to be missed,” Violet said as she scooped Thor up in her arms. “Isn’t that right, Thor?”

  Bale felt himself losing his power of speech. Violet was so incredibly beautiful. She couldn’t possibly be interested in him, could she? He thought she gave him every indication that they could move their relationship in a more personal direction, but he had a history of misreading women. Sometimes he was interested and they were not. Sometimes they were interested and he was not. The common denominator was he got it wrong most of the time. Maybe he was misreading Violet. Maybe she only wanted to talk about tiny houses.

  “I have some really good ideas,” he blurted, hoping to cover his tracks.

  Violet looked up at him, surprise and amusement dancing in her violet eyes.

  “That’s nice to hear,” she said, putting Thor on the ground. She studied Bale a minute before adding, “I’ve got a few really good ideas myself.”

  * * * *

  Expand

  Confident

  Free

  Molly wrote her affirmation words to start her day. It was Saturday. She didn’t need to go to the farm. She decided to start her morning by making notes for improvements she was going to recommend to Bale once he returned to Cobb. First and foremost, Bale had to find a way to make the bed under the kitchen easier to slide. Molly also thought the kitchen sink shouldn’t be round. Since Officer Melon now knew she was residing on the tiny house lot, Molly had gotten a little bolder about cooking. While circular was certainly an interesting look for a kitchen, the design made it difficult to wash a rectangular pan. She also thought the Tower might be pitched to bird owners as the perfect model. Galileo had more room in this tiny house than anywhere he’d ever lived. He gave her much less sass, feeling that he was the master of all he surveyed.

  She’d sketched a few ideas for Bale, hoping her residency would be seen as something positive instead of a break-in. She also adjusted her own tree house to include a tower for Galileo…not that she expected to actually ever see her tree house realized, but keeping the design grounded in reality was part of the thesis. This was not just a concept home—it was a real possibility.

  If not for her, for someone.

  As she eyed her ever-changing tree house model, Molly sighed.

  She envied that someone.

  She eyed the clock on her phone. Even though she didn’t have to go to work, Quinn had asked her if she wanted to meet him at the gym for a swim. Molly’s instinct was to say no—there was no way she was going to look half as good in a bathing suit as he did. But she realized, between the now frequent visits to the gym, the wrestling match every day and evening with the bed, her endless walking at the farm five days a week, and climbing up and down to the tree fort, she actually would look pretty damn good.

  Her really cute bathing suits were locked up at Crabby’s, but she knew she had at least one suit…somewhere. It was interesting; even with very few possessions, it was still hard to keep track of everything. She dug around in the crevices of her gym bag and the car trunk. She was about to give up when it occurred to her she’d stuffed a bunch of clothes in a pillowcase to use at night as a makeshift pillow. She pulled the bed out from under the kitchen—a concept that still made her head reel—and dumped the contents of the pillowcase onto the bed.

  She picked up the rumpled navy blue one-piece with the racer back. It was even more hideous than she remembered. It screamed “This suit means business.”

  “This is the worst,” she wailed. “I’m going to look like an old lady in this!”

  “Amen, brother,” Galileo called from his loft.

  “Bite me,” she said.

  Molly ran into Bale’s workshop and rummaged around the tools. Huffing with disappointment, she went into the office and opened drawer after drawer. Giving up in frustration, she sat down at the big desk.

  “That’s where you are!” she said triumphantly as she seized the scissors.

  She climbed back into the tiny house and grabbed the suit. She held it against her body and made some computations. She put the suit on the little table that came down from a latch on the wall when needed, smoothed it out, and cut the leg holes higher until they had a sexier line.

  “This will have to do,” she said before grabbing her keys and gym bag.

  She heard Galileo offer her his leering pirate’s laugh as she hurried to the car.

  * * * *

  “Oh no,” Molly said to herself as she stared at her handiwork in the locker room.

  She’d miscalculated by a few inches. She admonished herself—a budding civil engineer should never guess. She recalled the carpenters’ mantra “Measure twice, cut once.” But the damage was done. The leg holes were almost to her waist. She looked in the mirror. She had to admit, she didn’t look half bad. But the effect was far from subtle.

  Molly took her towel and wrapped it around her hips. She hoped her ponytail would suffice. She may have made her peace with the devil about the bathing suit, but she was not going to let Quinn catch her in a swim cap.

  Okay, she could do this. She looked at the clock on the wall.
She was five minutes early. She could run out to the pool and get in the water before Quinn arrived.

  Now she felt more like an engineer—she had a solid plan.

  Taking a deep breath, straightening her shoulders, and holding in her stomach, Molly walked to the pool. It looked deserted, but then she spotted a figure sitting at the far end of the pool. As she got closer, she could see it was Quinn.

  Quinn, lounging poolside, in a Speedo. Molly willed herself not to run back to the locker room.

  “Hey, Jane,” Quinn called to her and waved.

  As if she could miss him. With his various tattoos, washboard abs, and the bright red Speedo, he looked like a Chippendale Santa.

  “Hey, Quinn,” Molly said, giving a little wave back.

  She willed herself to go through the motions anyone getting into the pool would do.

  Walk to the bench.

  Drop the towel.

  She tried again.

  DROP THE TOWEL.

  Walk to the pool.

  Don’t worry if it’s cold.

  Get in the water—at least until you cover up the problem areas.

  And just like that, she was in.

  She took a deep breath and turned to Quinn. He was no longer on the side of the pool. She looked around. Suddenly, she saw a flash under the water. She shrieked as something brushed by her ankle. Quinn emerged from the deep like a really fit Poseidon, popping up right in front of her. She lost her footing and started to fall backwards, hoping the water at least made her look less clumsy. But Quinn caught her and pulled her back to her feet. He steadied her but didn’t let her go. He looked at her hand and studied her words.

  “Expand, confident, free,” he said. “Those are good words for today.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed her palm.

  Chapter 23

  Molly was shaking as she let herself into the tiny house. She replayed every minute of her afternoon. She rubbed her chin. The fabulous make-out session in the pool left her with razor burn, which stung, but she was glad she had it or she would have thought she’d made up the whole thing. One minute, she and Quinn were lost in their own watery world, and the next, several of Quinn’s friends materialized out of nowhere. They were yelling to him that they had a game going and he’d better get his ass in gear or he’d miss it.

  Molly was thunderstruck when Quinn gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and swam to the ladder. His tight red butt was out of sight within minutes, leaving Molly standing in the shallow end by herself.

  Galileo greeted her in his pirate voice but clearly sensed her distress and cooed at her instead.

  “That’s okay,” Molly said, passing him a lettuce leaf. “I’m a total jerk.”

  But Galileo didn’t bite.

  Molly pulled out the bed and flopped down, her arm over her eyes. She tried to put a spin on the situation, so she could save face. Although she wasn’t sure with whom she was saving face.

  Herself?

  She wasn’t ready to sleep with Quinn, she told herself. But herself laughed back—who was she trying to kid? He was her boss and that’s always a bad idea, she floated. Maybe he was concerned about that too.

  Nice try, came the response from within.

  “I’m an idiot,” Molly said.

  “Amen, brother,” Galileo offered.

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you, Quinn.”

  “I know,” Molly said miserably. “Me too.”

  She tried to work on the miniature tree house, but inspiration deserted her. Molly moped around the tiny house lot the rest of the day. Her phone rang and she jumped. It was Quinn.

  Should she answer it?

  Of course she should. And she should act casual about the whole thing. Pretend as if she spent every Saturday making out with some guy in a pool who would apparently rather be playing cards.

  That sounded more bitter than casual, she had to admit.

  She took a deep breath and answered.

  “Hey, Quinn.”

  “Hey, beautiful,” Quinn said cheerfully. “Today was fun.”

  Today was fun?

  “How was your card game?” Molly asked icily. She decided to tone it down to frosty. “Did you win?”

  “I sure did. You’re my good luck charm.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “So, want to come out and celebrate? We could go someplace nice for dinner.”

  Molly was tempted. She was always tempted by Quinn. But she was really stung by the rejection at the pool—even if he didn’t see it that way.

  “I really can’t,” Molly said. “I’ve got to work on my thesis.”

  “Your what?”

  “My thesis,” Molly repeated. “You know, I’m building a model of a tree house? I know I’ve told you about it.”

  “That’s right. I keep forgetting that, don’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come out and party?”

  No! I’m not sure!

  “Yes, I’m sure. Sorry.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to celebrate by myself.”

  “I sincerely doubt that.”

  Quinn laughed good-naturedly.

  “I’ll survive until Monday,” he said. “Breakfast as usual?”

  Molly wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to seem like a pouting child if he just saw today as a fun but unimportant interlude. She really needed to be more sophisticated—not a skill she thought she’d need in a tiny town in Kentucky.

  “I’ll see you Monday,” she said vaguely as she clicked off.

  “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” she asked Galileo.

  “Amen, brother.”

  “I mean, I have to have some self-respect. Don’t I?”

  Galileo refused to get involved. Molly played her own devil’s advocate, trying to convince herself that she should be more cosmopolitan, more adult. A make-out session at the gym wasn’t exactly a marriage proposal. It meant nothing.

  Galileo suddenly started singing “The Female Highwayman” in her father’s clear tenor. Molly could just imagine her father’s reaction to today’s events.

  She was right to stay home.

  “Okay, knock it off,” she said to the bird. “I get it.”

  Galileo stopped singing and hopped onto his perch to look out the window.

  His job here was done.

  Molly turned off the sound on her phone so she wouldn’t hear it in case Quinn called back. She didn’t want to weaken and agree to go out.

  She strolled around the Bale’s Tiny Dreams lot, clearing her head. She missed working on her thesis model in the tree fort. When she was on the ground, the project seemed overwhelming, but the elevation always gave her confidence in her work.

  When it was time for bed, she’d done no work on her thesis.

  But she’d stood her ground and never looked at her phone to see if Quinn had called. She brushed her teeth and crawled, emotionally exhausted, into bed.

  She awoke in the dark to the sound of a roaring lion.

  Molly shot up in bed to see Galileo, feathers standing up, swaying side to side and making his wild animal noises.

  “It’s okay,” Molly soothed. “It’s okay.”

  Galileo quieted down.

  Molly heard him bark like a dog as soon as she turned her back to him.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m here.”

  She looked at him. He was still agitated, but he wasn’t making any noise. Molly was confused. She still heard the dog barking.

  A dog barking? Was she dreaming?

  She crawled to the window and saw lights coming into the lot. It was Bale’s bus. As Bale relocked the front gate, Thor was running toward the Tower, barking.

  Molly ducked down and put her fingers to
her lips for Galileo to remain silent.

  “Bite me,” he groused.

  “Please be quiet,” she said. “It’s a matter of life and death.”

  Chapter 24

  Molly heard Bale whistle for Thor, who was barking and wagging in front of the Tower where she skulked.

  “Go away, Thor,” Molly hissed through the door.

  “Bite me,” Galileo said in solidarity.

  “Don’t help,” Molly called over her shoulder.

  She peeked over the window frame again. Thor was returning to the bus. Molly leaned her back against the wall, trying to slow her breathing.

  This is nuts! Why am I hiding from Bale?

  Because you broke into his place of business?

  All her justifications as to why it was perfectly fine to trespass now seemed totally absurd. Explaining herself was going to take some time. She glanced at her phone. It was three in the morning. She really shouldn’t reveal herself now. Bale was probably tired, having driven all the way from…from…she had no idea where he’d come from. They hadn’t texted or chatted in weeks. Since the rest of the tiny houses weren’t caravanning onto the lot behind him, she suspected they’d arrive in the morning. She frowned. The fact that he was arriving before the tinies meant he must have been somewhere without them, but she let that pass. The fact that they would probably arrive in the morning was a good thing. He’d be distracted getting all the models back in place. She knew she couldn’t evade him, but at least she could minimize how long she had to explain herself.

  He would certainly understand.

  Bale always understood.

  Then why is my stomach in knots?

  Even though Officer Melon knew she was on the lot, Molly still made sure to keep a low profile with her car. She prayed Bale didn’t see it. She peeked out again and watched the bus’s headlights float just above her car.

  Safe!

  Bale parked the bus. Molly hoped he’d get in his truck and go home. She could be packed and sneak out after he left—although there was no way she could get Galileo’s loft-cage dismantled in the dark. She’d have to deal with that in the morning. She started to collect her things, but after ten minutes, it appeared Bale was going to spend the rest of the night in the bus. She lay back down, knowing she wouldn’t sleep, and waited for dawn.