A Fresh Start

by Grace, Trisha

She took in a deep breath and sighed.

  “Can’t breathe?”

  “It’s all right, just a little warm.”

  A few quick raps on her front door made her gasp.

  “You’re jumpy.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Probably just Mr. Seymour. I’ll see what he needs.”

  While she was still removing the mask, Justin went down the stairs and opened the door.

  “Hi, Justin. We’re here to spring you.”

  Even after a decade, Gloria hadn’t changed her choice of friends. Gloria stood side by side with Magdalene, who was wearing an equally tight dress.

  “Who is it?” Paige asked as she hurried down. She peered from behind, then turned to him, confused. “Your friends?”

  “You’re the new girl making Justin work on a Saturday?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I volunteered,” he cut in.

  “It’s Saturday, join us for dinner. I’m sure new-girl here won’t mind.”

  “Her name is Paige. I’m sure she doesn’t, but I’ve no interest in joining either of you for dinner.” He closed the door and gently nudged Paige up the stairs.

  “Who are they?”

  “Ex-schoolmates.”

  “Why are you so mean to them?”

  “I don’t like pretentious people.”

  She halted halfway up the stairs. “Justin, you really don’t have to do this. You can join them if you want.”

  “Why would I join them? I don’t even like them.”

  She pursed her lips, but nodded and continued walking. “Why do you think they’re pretentious?”

  “Aren’t you offended by how rude they were to you?”

  She shrugged. “No.” She sat cross-legged on the floor and stared at him, seemingly waiting for an answer to her question.

  He sat down beside her and drank a squirt of water. “The people in this town, not all, but most of them avoided me like a plague.”

  “Why?” she asked, her brows drawing closer.

  She was bound to hear about it from someone sooner or later, might as well be him. “My mom was an alcoholic. She would do anything to get money for her alcohol, including sleeping with half the town.”

  Her eyes widened, pushing her brows up along with them. She quickly wiped off her surprise and her jaw dropped slightly as she seemed to consider what her next words should be. “I’m sorry, that must’ve been rough.”

  “I had the Seymours.”

  She nodded slowly. “Then why are they so eager to have dinner with you now?”

  “Money?”

  Since he started getting more money, he realized more women began throwing themselves at him. At first, they would be willing to do anything for him. Then, the demands would start coming in.

  A bag they really wanted to have. A dress so they could go out to dinner. The pair of diamond earrings they saw at the mall.

  “You’re rich?”

  “Why do you sound so skeptical?” He couldn’t help feeling frustrated at her reaction.

  “I’m sorry,” she quickly said. “I’m not looking down on you. But if you’re rich, why are you working with me on the house?”

  “I was actually in Cheyenne to look at some properties, thought I’d drop by to see the Seymours and Travis. I didn’t think I’ll end up helping you with the house.”

  “So it’s by chance that you ended up here.”

  He nodded.

  She reached over for her water bottle. “Do you think I’m pretentious? Was that why you didn’t want to tell me what you do?”

  “No. I just—”

  “It’s okay. It’s not like I told you everything about myself.”

  “I already know that you don’t have an alcoholic mom. Tell me something else.”

  Her eyes flickered to the side and she appeared to be thinking of something to tell him. “I’m adopted, but I don’t think I could’ve found a better family.”

  Justin broke into a smile. He wasn’t expecting Paige to tell him anything. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I used to teach accounting at a community college. I started teaching the night classes while I worked as an auditor during the day. I enjoyed teaching so much I quit my day job and taught full time.”

  Teacher. It suited her.

  “Do you have a job now?”

  “No. I’m hoping to get a job at Pine Bluffs High School.”

  “Don’t you need a license or something?”

  “Yeah, I’ve all the necessary credentials, and I passed the exam. They’re not looking for a teacher, though.”

  “You’re unwilling to drive further?”

  “I’d prefer to stay in town,” she answered. “And you? To do what you do, you probably move around a lot.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t you miss home?”

  He had never felt at home anywhere. He loved the Seymours, he loved how they took care of him while his mother was only concerned with getting another drink. But he never felt he belonged anywhere. “Not really,’ he said. “Why Pine? I’m sure there are bigger towns with better opportunities. You’ve taught in a college, you were an auditor. I’m sure you can do better than teaching in high school.”

  “It’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone.”

  “And you like that?”

  “I can tell that you don’t.”

  “I prefer the city lifestyle. Everyone minding their own business. Nobody cares who you are and what you do as long as you don’t disturb them.”

  She shook her head with a grin. “Then what are you doing here?”

  “Using you as an excuse to skip dinner with people I don’t like?”

  She laughed and shrugged. Her genuine laughter made him grin.

  “Well then, get to work mister, or I’m kicking you out to the pretentious ex-schoolmates.”

  Chapter Five

  The sun streamed into the window, through the curtains, and onto Paige’s face. She turned her face into the pillow, hoping to get more sleep. She kneaded her face against the soft, comfortable sheets; the way old sheets always were.

  She didn’t want to get up. Her arms, back, and neck were aching.

  But no matter which way she turned, the light always found a way to her eyes.

  Grudgingly, she opened her eyes and stretched. She raised her arms over her head and arched her back, trying to get rid of the soreness plaguing her.

  There was still so much to be done.

  She had thought that painting the house would be fun, but just the one wall alone in the morning made her regret her decision.

  Thank God for the paint sprayer that Justin brought over. It made painting so much faster and easier. Holding the paint sprayer and looking up at the ceiling was tiring, but definitely way better than using her rollers and brush.

  Then there was the prepping of the other room. There was no escape from that.

  She had to wipe the walls, wash it, and do all those preparations before she could start painting.

  Thank God for Justin.

  With his help, they had cleared both rooms and the tiny walkway outside the rooms. While she spray-painted the rooms, he had gone on ahead to clean the walls by the stairs.

  Without him, she would probably still be painting her bedroom today.

  Turning on her back, she moved her arm over her eyes and tried to block out some of the light streaming into the room.

  She groaned when she heard the knock on her door and, with great effort, sat herself up on the bed.

  “Paige?”

  It took her a moment to react. She didn’t want to get off the bed, but it was rude to pretend she was still sleeping.

  Swinging her legs from the bed, she plodded over to open the door.

  “Good morning, dear. Do you want to go church with us?”

  No, her aching muscles cried. Besides, she was sure God wouldn’t care much for her missing attendance.

  “Wash up and get changed.”

  Pai
ge blinked. Mrs. Seymour had asked politely enough, but clearly an answer wasn’t required of her.

  “I’ve already brewed the coffee, I’ll get started with breakfast,” Mrs. Seymour continued, then went down the stairs before Paige could say anything.

  Paige closed the door and leaned back against it, gazing at the bed. She wanted so much to crawl back into it.

  She didn’t like meeting new people. For a long time now, she had learned to keep to herself and stay away from people she didn’t know or people she wasn’t well acquainted with. One point for bed.

  But she did move out here for a fresh start. One point for church.

  She yawned again. Bed wins.

  She dragged her feet back to bed. On the way back, she grabbed her cell phone from the desk and set a ten minute alarm.

  Just ten minutes.

  She didn’t know how it was possible, but she fell asleep and jumped when the alarm rang. Moaning quietly into her pillow, her arm reached over to the nightstand to shut off the alarm.

  Ten more seconds, she told herself.

  No! The responsible her shouted. She wouldn’t be able to get off the bed if she lingered there for another second. She pushed herself off the bed and headed straight into the bathroom to wash her face.

  She didn’t dare to glance back at her bed; she wasn’t sure she could resist its temptation.

  The warm shower did make her feel better, but the soreness in her muscles were still screaming for the bed even as she dressed.

  She went down the stairs, smiling when she saw Justin in quite a few of the photos on the wall.

  With a warm smile, she settled into one of the seats around the dining table.

  “You look tired,” Mr. Seymour commented, putting down his newspaper. “You should’ve let me help.”

  “You’re already putting me up and feeding me. Besides, Justin helped me with the painting.” Speaking of Justin, Paige stole a peek at the old-fashion clock with a swinging pendulum.

  “He’s a helpful boy to a few selected people,” Mrs. Seymour said as she came out of the kitchen with a plate of bacon and eggs for her. “I doubt he’ll be joining us.”

  “Thank you.” She was slightly embarrassed that Mrs. Seymour read her thoughts. She took the plate from Mrs. Seymour and set it down. “I know. Two women came by last evening and he was quite harsh to them.”

  “He had a tough childhood,” Mrs. Seymour said protectively.

  “I heard.”

  “He told you?”

  “He told me his mom was an alcoholic.” She cut a strip of bacon in half and folded it. “Where is his mother now?”

  “He doesn’t know. She only calls him when she needs money. Other than that, she stays away,” Mr. Seymour answered.

  “He rebuilt the house for her, you know. But she didn’t want to come back. She’s afraid that Justin will force her into rehab.”

  “That’s sad.”

  Paige never knew who her biological mother was and had been blessed to be adopted by the Watsons. They loved her like their own child.

  Whatever her brother had, she had.

  Even Andrew was the best brother anyone could ask for. He was always protective of her. If there were only one cookie left, he would give it to her without her asking.

  Compared to Justin, God had been nice to her.

  She took a bite of the bacon. Maybe she shouldn’t be blaming God for everything that had happened over the past three years. If God hadn’t given her the home she had, she didn’t know what could’ve become of her.

  “He’s lucky to have you,” Paige said.

  Justin’s didn’t grow up in a favorable situation, but God didn’t leave him all by himself; he had the Seymours.

  “He’s pretty successful now. You must be proud.”

  “He’s rich, but he isn’t happy,” Mrs. Seymour said. “Oh, don’t look so troubled.”

  Paige didn’t know she had looked troubled. She smiled and poured some milk into her coffee before taking a sip.

  “He’s fine.” Mrs. Seymour paused for a moment, turning to her plate of food, then back to Paige. “Who turned up at the door?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

  Mrs. Seymour’s head bobbed up and down, seemingly considering who they could be.

  “It’s not important.” With his fork in hand, Mr. Seymour pointed at her plate. “Eat.”

  Paige walked alongside Mrs. Seymour as they moved through the crowd. She smoothed down her beige colored dress and pulled her cardigan closer together.

  She was glad she’d picked this dress instead of a comfortable pair of jeans.

  All the women were wearing dresses while the men wore shirts with either pants or jeans.

  “Hi, Celia.” An older lady wearing a sky blue dress with small floral prints strode over, easily moving past the crowd. “I’m thinking of visiting—” The older lady turned toward Paige and was taken aback for a moment.

  “Susan, this is Paige. And Paige, Mrs. Mckay.”

  “Aah…The new owner of our town’s haunted house.”

  She grimaced. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Mrs. Seymour suddenly said, her eyes staring past Mrs. Mckay. “The vultures are circling.”

  “What?” Paige turned to look, but was dragged away before she could get a clear glimpse.

  Their short conversation with Mrs. Mckay had brought more attention to her presence. With every passing second, more stares were directed toward her. Everyone whom they passed by studied her with utmost curiosity, some with slight disdain.

  She didn’t understand what could’ve caused that look, but brushed it off as her paranoia.

  Several more people came up to them, trying to pull her away from Mrs. Seymour. But each time, Mrs. Seymour would take her by the wrist and drag her along.

  Paige moved along, smiling politely at everyone who was looking her way, and continued into the church with Mrs. Seymour.

  Though the walk into church took less than ten minutes, it was enough for her to catch the words ‘haunted house’ and ‘Justin’.

  As Paige followed Mrs. Seymour down the aisle, she wondered if the term ‘haunted house’ would forever be linked with her name here.

  She noticed Mr. Seymour seated on one of the pews and scooted in along with Mrs. Seymour. She had barely sat down when Mrs. Seymour looked around and began introducing Paige to a few of those seated close by.

  There seemed to be a selected group of people whom Mrs. Seymour would speak to. Some, she introduced with great alacrity. Others, she would merely grunt or give a curt nod before turning away.

  From all that she’d heard from Justin, from all that the Seymours had done for her, she was surprised to find an unfriendly side to Mrs. Seymour. Paige had assumed she was this nice to everyone.

  She looked over at Mrs. Seymour and smiled. Whatever reason Mrs. Seymour had, Paige was sure that she wouldn’t go wrong by following her lead.

  A buzz from her phone startled her. She smiled sheepishly when she saw Mrs. Seymour staring at her. Pulling her bag from the back of her chair, she placed it on her lap and leaned back.

  She took out her phone and read the message from Justin.

  Did you get dragged to church?

  Her smile grew wider, and she shook her head. She was about to reply when she felt a strong sensation of someone staring at her.

  She looked up and turned toward the person sitting next to her.

  The woman with bleached blonde hair, probably slightly younger than Mrs. Seymour, stared intently at her phone. She was one of those in the greeted-by-a-grunt group.

  Paige frowned and waited for the woman to look up from her phone.

  It didn’t take long. The woman noticed Paige’s gaze and quickly turned her attention toward the pastor, pretending as though nothing happened.

  Paige scooted a little closer to Mrs. Seymour and typed a reply.

  They didn’t drag me, I went along.

  She loo
ked up again and found another pair of eyes on her phone. This time, it was Mrs. Seymour.

  “That boy, always skipping church,” Mrs. Seymour whispered. “Tell him to join us for lunch.”

  Really? You didn’t want to stay in bed on a Sunday morning after a day of painting?

  Paige pushed her hair behind her ears. I’m not lazy, and you’re summoned for lunch.

  I’ll be there. And for what it’s worth, maybe you can find the answer to your question. See you later.

  “Is he coming?” Mrs. Seymour asked.

  Mrs. Seymour had probably seen his reply, but Paige answered her anyway. “Yes. He’ll be there.”

  She turned her attention to the pastor and tuned out the stares she felt on her back. If everything happened for a reason, if there was an explanation for all that had happened, she wanted to know.

  She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Lord, I’ll settle with knowing that you remember me.

  “Jesus knows the number of hair on your head. He cares about you so much that He takes an interest in every area of your life, even the ones that you don’t think matters,” the pastor said.

  Then why did you let all this happen?

  “We may not know the answer to everything, but that doesn’t matter. God made it simple; all we have to do is trust. Trust that if the devil throws lemons at you, He will make lemonade out of it. Trust that the plan He has for you is a good plan.”

  She sighed softly. Trust. That was easier said than done.

  Once service was over, the woman beside her leaned over and said, “So, you’re the one who bought the haunted house.”

  Paige cracked a smile. “I—”

  “Come on, Paige. I’ll introduce you to some of the neighbors.” Once again, Mrs. Seymour’s hand wrapped around her wrist and dragged her away. “Stay away from that vulture.”

  Paige bit down on her lips to stop herself from laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Mrs. Seymour asked with a hint of suspicion.

  “Nothing,” she quickly said.

  Mrs. Seymour arched her brow, but spared Paige of any further questions.

  Mrs. Seymour introduced Paige to many of her friends, giving her a background on who the person was. Most of the people Mrs. Seymour introduced were long-time friends who had volunteered in church.