The Cottage on Rose Lane

by Hope Ramsay

  “Let her go,” Nancy said in that quiet way of hers.

  “But—”

  “Really, Patsy. We all know you like to control things, but tell us you didn’t pay for that roof repair.” This came from Karen in her blunt way. “You know how proud Ashley is.”

  Patsy turned her gaze on the ladies of the Piece Makers. “I don’t know where y’all get the idea that I can afford something like a roof repair. If I had the money for something like that, believe me, I’d be fixing my own roof, not Ashley Scott’s.”

  The other ladies stared at her. “You’ve always given the appearance of being quite wealthy,” Karen said.

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” Patsy sank down into a chair with a deep, mournful sigh. “Ya’ll know how much we were counting on some money from Robert’s estate. Even a little would have helped. The economic downturn did a number on our savings because Harry decided that we could do better with an aggressive portfolio. The truth is he lost a lot of it on poor investments, and we’ve had to tighten our belts.

  “So no, I didn’t pay for Ashley’s roof. I couldn’t afford it.” She leaned back in the chair.

  “You should write to your niece,” Karen said.

  Patsy’s back snapped straight. “I will not talk to that woman. Period. I don’t want or need her charity. I don’t ever want to see her face. Is that clear?”

  A cold shiver started at Jenna’s shoulders and worked its way down her spine to the tips of her toes. It was almost as if someone had breathed icy-cold air on her neck. Why on earth was Patsy so angry? What had she done besides being born?

  Easy answer: She’d inherited Robert Bauman’s billions. And Patsy and Harry needed the money.

  Proving once again that her inheritance came with a boatload of issues attached to it. Money could do so much good in the world. It was also the root of all evil. How could she have a place here on Jonquil Island or make a family with Patsy and Harry when there was so much anger and so much grief to surmount?

  Her throat closed up. It was so unfair. She’d come so close and now…

  “Ladies,” Patsy said, putting her hands on her hips and pulling Jenna out of her own despair. “We can’t let Ashley sell this house.”

  “Why not?” Karen asked. “She just told us that she can’t afford to keep it. And you just told us that you don’t have enough money to help her keep it. So what can we do?”

  “We could help her write a business plan to turn the entire house into a B and B, not just the cottage,” Jenna said. “I’ll bet she could find someone willing to give her a line of credit.”

  Everyone turned in Jenna’s direction, evidently astonished that an outsider had the temerity to speak. If she invested in Ashley Scott, would that be the same as buying good karma with Patsy? She didn’t know. But obviously she needed to fix this mess too. But with Ashley, it wasn’t as easy as calling up a salvage service and paying for them to refloat a boat.

  “That’s a great idea, Jenna, but have you seen the rooms upstairs?” Karen asked, folding her arms across her Clemson sweatshirt.

  “No. But I’ve been staying at the cottage. And you yourself said you couldn’t wait to see what Ashley did with the rest of the house.”

  “She mortgaged the place to the nines to fix up the cottage,” Barbara (or was it Donna?) said. “I doubt she could get a line of credit.”

  “Don’t be so negative,” Patsy said. “We need ideas. Including some that might sound crazy or outside the box.” She turned toward Jenna with a genuine smile. “That’s good thinking, Jenna, but I’m not sure she’s creditworthy. Maybe we can find her a business partner or someone who could cosign a loan.” Patsy turned her gaze on the rest of the Piece Makers. “Any ideas?”

  The rest of the ladies shook their heads. But a germ of an idea sprouted in Jenna’s mind. She could easily cosign a loan. And maybe Milo would let her put a few bucks into Howland House as a means of cleaning up another one of her acts of kindness.

  “Well, I don’t know what. But we need to figure something out quick. We can’t let her sell Howland House. There’s been a Howland living on this land since before the Revolution.”

  “Well, that’s about to change,” Karen said. “And Ashley would be the first one to tell you it’s none of our business.”

  “But don’t you see? It is our business.”

  “How do you figure that?” Nancy asked.

  “Use your imagination. The Howland House ghost is going to be very upset if the last Howland sells this house. And really, can the town afford that? I mean, we need our ghosts to be friendly, not vengeful.”

  Karen laughed. “You’re not serious. You don’t really believe…Oh my goodness, you do believe in the ghost.”

  “Well,” Nancy said in a voice hardly above a whisper. “I don’t have any ideas on how to keep Ashley from selling the house, but I will pray for her. And the ghost too. If you want my opinion, it’s well past time for him to cross over to the other side. I mean, I’m sure Rose is waiting for him.”

  Karen shook her head. “Y’all, there is no such thing as ghosts. And I think we should quit meddling in Ashley’s life. She’s had a rough time. If she wants to go back to Kansas, we shouldn’t be standing in her way.”

  Jude arrived at the law offices of Hubble & Hubble at six o’clock and was ushered into Junior’s modest office with its view of tree-lined Lilac Street. The law office was located far away from Magnolia Harbor’s downtown area, in an older, historic section of town.

  “It’s nice to see you,” Junior said, shaking Jude’s hand. “I want you to know that I was following your battle to protect our ancestors’ land.”

  “I guess a lot of us were disappointed,” Jude said.

  “So, you said you had a land issue. I’m not really a real estate attorney. If this is about heirs’ property, you should see—”

  “It’s not about heirs’ property exactly,” Jude said.

  “No?”

  Jude shook his head. “Junior, I want to form a nonprofit corporation to help our people protect their land from gentrification.”

  Junior lifted an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting idea,” he said.

  “Yeah, isn’t it? I’d like to tell you that I came up with it myself. But to be honest, I didn’t. Just recently someone told me that it’s faster and more effective to accomplish things privately than to rely on the government. And since the government’s decided that we need a museum instead of protection, I need to figure out a new way of fighting this battle.”

  Junior smiled. “Excellent idea. What exactly did you have in mind?”

  Jude leaned forward in his chair and started to talk. “I’d like to create an organization that could raise money either to help folks cover the taxes on land they’ve held for generations, or alternatively, to buy up historically significant sites and ensure that they will be protected from development. And I’d also like to figure out a way to fund legal help for families dealing with the complexities of heirs’ property. Or something like that. And, what the hell, maybe we could even support that museum Harry Bauman thinks we need. But bottom line, we need a way to raise money from rich people for all of these things. And I’m hoping that we can raise enough money to keep companies like Santee Resorts off this island.”

  Junior nodded. “I like it. We could get this up and running faster than you think.”

  Jude noticed the pronoun Junior had used, as if he’d adopted the idea. And something warm and exciting rushed through him. He could do this. Not alone, but with some help from his family and his friends in the community. They didn’t have to sit back and wait for the resort company to come destroy everything.

  “So, how the hell do we get something like that started?” he asked.

  And Junior had a lot to say on the subject. Including the fact that Hubble & Hubble would be happy to provide pro bono legal services for the creation of articles of incorporation and the filings necessary to obtain nonprofit status from the federal and s
tate government. That still meant that Jude had to find some startup money, but Junior suggested that it wouldn’t take much before they could go into fundraising mode.

  It was after seven o’clock when they finished talking and Junior stood up and offered his hand. “Jude, I’m honored to help you do this.”

  Pride coursed up Jude’s spine as he shook Junior’s hand. “Thank you,” Jude said.

  “So, let me put some of this down on paper and shoot you an e-mail tomorrow or the next day. You’ll need to think about who you want on your initial board of directors, and we’ll need to hammer out a mission statement and a list of programs the group intends to undertake.”

  “Okay,” Jude said, a little stunned.

  He left the office filled with the possibilities of success. Funny how all the failures had kind of turned themselves around. How had that happened?

  He had a short answer: Jenna. She was full of a lot of woo-woo Buddhist ideas, but that one about making your own reality was kind of true, wasn’t it?

  Once Daddy had freed him.

  He wanted to share his enthusiasm with someone. No, not someone. Jenna.

  She’d been texting him all day, and he’d been trying to figure out how to respond. He was glad he’d waited until now. But as his fingers began typing out a message, he decided it would be better to tell her the news in person, and maybe to thank her for the things she’d said to him the other day. All that stuff about being optimistic, about taking charge, about not being afraid to fail. He’d needed to hear those words.

  He drove his pickup across town and parked it in the lot at Howland House, and then he let himself into the rose garden by the back gate. But as he approached Rose Cottage, he was disappointed to see that all the windows were dark.

  He stepped up onto the porch and knocked. No answer. He knocked again and waited a good five minutes. Jenna was not there.

  Damn.

  Jude considered waiting on her porch but opted against it. He was hungry…finally. Maybe he should go on home and get a good night’s rest. He swallowed his disappointment and headed back toward his truck.

  Fifteen minutes later, when he pulled up to Old Granny’s place, he was surprised to find a whole mess of family waiting for him. Charlotte and Daisy, Annie, Jeeter, Colton, and Micah, and a half dozen cousins. Every single one of them had a key to Old Granny’s house, because they all owned a share in it.

  The family was sitting around the table with the remnants of a meal that Annie had probably cooked. There was fried chicken, rice, okra, lima beans, and stewed tomatoes. His stomach rumbled.

  “Where you been, baby?” Annie asked. “We got hungry and ate while we were waiting. But I made you a plate.”

  “What are y’all doing here?” he asked as he sat down and let Annie put a huge plate of food in front of him.

  “Micah called us,” Charlotte said. “He thought we should talk about how to save this old place.”

  A pit opened in his stomach. “Um, I got something I need to tell y’all. Something I don’t think you’re going to like much.”

  “What is it, baby?” Annie patted his back.

  “I went down to the bank today, and I took out a line of credit in order to salvage Reel Therapy. I had to use my share in this place as collateral. I’m really sorry. I—”

  “Oh, darling, you don’t need to explain about that,” Annie said, giving him a big hug. “How do you think I started up my kitchen?”

  “You used your share?”

  “I did. And I paid back that loan. We all have faith in you, Jude. I reckon that’s why we’re here. Just to let you know that.”

  He swallowed down a big knot in his throat. “Thanks.”

  “Eat,” Annie directed.

  But he didn’t eat. Not yet. “I need to tell y’all something else.”

  “Boy, you have been busy today,” Micah said with a little grin on his face.

  “I guess I have,” Jude said. “And we’re all going to be busy for a while, I think. We’re going to form a corporation.” Jude finally picked up a chicken leg and took a bite. Man, he really was hungry, and Annie knew how to fry chicken just right.

  “Lawd have mercy,” Daisy said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be part of no corporation.”

  “A corporation to do what?” Charlotte asked.

  “We’re going to form a nonprofit corporation to raise money from rich folks to help our people pay their taxes and keep the resort people away.”

  “How are we going to do that, Jude?” Charlotte asked, her eyes lighting up.

  “Well, Junior Hubble’s going to help us. But the very first thing we need to do is to name a board of directors and come up with a mission statement.”

  “Oh, I like that,” Annie said. “We’ll be like David kicking Goliath’s butt.”

  “Amen to that,” Micah said with a wink and a nod.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  On Friday morning, after another night disturbed by the same dreams she’d hoped to lay to rest, Jenna decided that today was the day to clear up all the problems she’d created over the last couple of weeks.

  First thing on the agenda was to talk to Patsy and Harry. Second thing was to come clean with Jude and explain why she’d paid for Reel Therapy’s salvage. And third, she needed to have a long chat with Ashley Scott.

  It was a gigantic agenda for a person who hadn’t slept well in several days. But Milo was right. If she wanted to start this business and make a difference in this town, she had to come clean with Harry and Patsy first. Without that, nothing was possible.

  She bypassed her yoga, took a long, hot shower, and put on some clean clothes without paying too much attention to what she pulled out of her backpack. She restrained her hair in a ponytail, stepped into her new flip-flops, and headed out down Harbor Drive.

  The wind had diminished and had shifted direction, coming out of the southeast and bringing heat and sunshine. By the time Jenna arrived at Harry and Patsy’s house, her hands were sweaty and her heart was bumping against her chest wall with such force that it shook her whole body.

  She squared her shoulders and took a couple of cleansing breaths, redolent with pine needles, boxwood, and sea air. She would remain calm.

  If they hated her because of the money, she’d lay out the terms of her grandfather’s will, making it clear that she wouldn’t have control of the money until she turned forty-five. A term in her grandfather’s will that would probably enrage the Baumans because it looked as if it was specifically designed to keep her from sharing her wealth. With them or with anyone.

  And if they hated her because of Mom, she’d offer to send them the PDF file of her father’s letters, which seemed to suggest that Jamie went off his meds before he met Mom. It was quite possible that Jenna’s mother knew nothing at all about his medications. Although Mom might have realized that Jamie was bipolar.

  And if they still didn’t want anything to do with her, she would…

  No. She shook her head. She wouldn’t be negative. This was going to work out. They had met her. They knew her. It wasn’t as if she was some stranger knocking on their door.

  She ground her back teeth on that thought because, for all intents and purposes, she was a stranger. A stranger who had lied to them.

  Time froze. Only the relentless throbbing of her heart marked the moments until Patsy opened the door.

  “Jenna. What a surprise.” She opened the door wide.

  “Is Harry here?”

  “He is. What did you—”

  “I need to talk to both of you. It’s important.”

  “Come in, dear. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Oh my goodness, have you?”

  Jenna shook her head even though she’d felt haunted by her father these last few days. “No.”

  Patsy’s blue eyes turn up a little at the corners. Patsy could be dictatorial and bossy, but she was also kindhearted. “What is it, dear? Is this about Jude?”

  “No,” she said, even th
ough, in a way, it was all about Jude. Until this moment she hadn’t fully understood the stakes. If Patsy and Harry rejected her, they could turn her into a social pariah in this town. They could make it impossible for her to stay, and she wanted to stay…because she wanted to build something with Jude.

  In that moment, staring into Patsy’s eyes, she realized that she’d fallen in love with Jude. Not just in lust or infatuation, but love. True love. The kind of love that helps two souls find each other because, perhaps, they had loved in other lifetimes. Had that happened to Mom and Dad? Was that why Jamie’s letters had turned manic?

  Just then, as her chest felt as if it might explode, Harry came out of the kitchen carrying a coffee mug. “Who is it, dear?” he asked, and then stopped in his tracks and gave Jenna a scowl. “What do you want?”

  “Harry, really.” Patsy turned, shooting her husband a disapproving look. Boy, Jenna didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a look like that. But she had a feeling she was going to be before the morning was out.

  “Look,” she said in a breathless voice, “can we sit down? I have something important I need to tell you.”

  “Of course, dear. Can I get you some coffee? Tea?”

  Jenna shook her head. “No. I’m good.”

  Patsy gestured to the couch in the front room, and Jenna sank down into its soft cushions. Everything about this room was comfortable and homey. She glanced over at the photographs sitting on the end table, and there, smiling from behind a silver frame, was her father. He was older in this photo. He must have looked like that when he died. He was very handsome.

  “What do you want?” Harry said again in a gruff voice as he dropped into one of the side chairs.

  Jenna laced her fingers together and gulped down air in nothing like the controlled fashion she practiced every day. Suddenly, her plan to deceive her aunt and uncle seemed impossibly foolish. She should have followed Milo’s advice. Milo was always right. About everything.

  “This is about Jude, isn’t it?” Harry said. “You’ve been stalking that boy, and I’m telling you that if you don’t quit, I’m going to call the law on you. So whatever it is you want to say, say it quick but know that we aren’t a couple of senile old fools.”