A Fresh Start

by Grace, Trisha

  Whenever they went up to someone, the person would stop whatever he or she was doing and greet her affectionately, welcoming her to town.

  Her brain churned while she shook all the hands and smiled warmly at everyone. She tried hard to remember all the names, silently thanking God for all the improve-your-memory books that she’d read.

  She never imagined herself having to describe after church mingling as fast-paced, but being pulled around and given all the information about the various people were slightly overwhelming.

  “And this is Jane, Jane Cassells,” Mrs. Seymour said, moving her closer toward a woman. “Jane, this is Paige Watson.”

  Jane gave Paige a small nod, adjusting her black metal spectacles. Her copper-brown hair was tied back in a low ponytail with her fringe pushed aside, hanging just below her brows.

  “Hi, Jane,” Paige said with a bright smile.

  “Hi,” Jane replied, her hand moving to push her fringe further to the side, then tugged at her ill-fitting long sleeve shirt.

  “Jane works in the library,” Mrs. Seymour added.

  “What a great place to work. Quiet and relaxed.”

  “Celia!”

  Paige jumped, gasping, and turned to see another copper-hair woman waving Mrs. Seymour over.

  “You girls talk.” Mrs. Seymour turned to Jane. “I’ll see what your mom wants.”

  Paige drew in a deep breath through her nose, glad for the break from meeting new people. She glanced over at the copper-hair woman and back at Jane. “You look just your mom.”

  “Short and pudgy.”

  “You’re not pudgy, you’re petite. The type that guys will want to protect.”

  Jane adjusted her spectacles again. “If only.” Her tone wasn’t rude. In fact, it seemed inclined toward some deep-seated despair.

  “Are you all right?” Paige blurted.

  Jane blinked, looking right into Paige’s eyes. Then, her brows drew closer and her hands moved over to adjust her spectacles.

  “So, what you do at work,” Paige continued before the atmosphere got more awkward.

  “I’m in charge of returning the books to the right place, checking the system to make sure that books are returned on time. Basically everything.”

  “That’s quite a lot of work.”

  Jane opened her mouth to reply, but her eyes flickered over Paige’s shoulders and she suddenly turned mute. Jane’s hand moved to rub down one of her arms while tilting her torso away.

  Paige looked over her shoulder and saw the woman who was sitting next to her in church trotting over. Next to that woman was one of the two younger women who had turned up at her house.

  “Hi again,” the woman greeted her with a wide grin and raised brows. Her affability seemed forced and insincere. “I’m Jaslyn Bradley, and my daughter,” she moved her hand behind the golden blonde, “Gloria. I believe you met her yesterday.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Paige couldn’t help noticing Gloria’s long acrylic nails adorned with crystals. Just looking at her nails felt heavy.

  “So, I heard Justin is working for you?”

  Though the older Bradley had made it sound like a question, it felt somewhat like an accusation to Paige. “He’s helping Travis out.”

  “You know his story, right? His mother was an alcoholic and a complete…well, she was basically the town’s whore,” Gloria whispered, as if she was letting Paige in on a secret.

  Paige’s eyes widened. That was a rude thing to say. Even if it was true, there wasn’t a need to bring it up after all these years.

  “He used to get up in the morning and roam the streets in search of his mom.” Bending her torso forward, Gloria continued softly. “There was this time his mom passed out drunk on our lawn and I saw him checking her pulse before dragging her back,” Gloria said and rolled her eyes. “How pathetic, right?”

  Paige shook her head. She couldn’t imagine what life was like for Justin. No wonder he didn’t miss home. Those memories, the life he had as a child…

  Gloria took a small step closer. “He’s always been a loner even since he was in school. Doesn’t speak to anyone, except when picking a fight.”

  Mrs. Bradley took a step into the tiny circle they had formed. “And I heard Justin had followed in his mother’s footsteps,” she said. “You’ve better be careful. You don’t want your roof falling over you while you sleep.”

  Clasping her arms behind her, Paige took a step back from the mother and daughter. “He isn’t like that.”

  She hadn’t spent much time with Justin, but each time he was with her, she felt safe.

  He was quick to observe everything that was wrong in the house, even deducing that she was from New York and was hiding from someone.

  There was no way someone as alert as he was could be a drunk.

  “Do you know that the Webbers are divorced because of his mom? They weren’t the only ones,” Mrs. Bradley continued as if she hadn’t noticed Paige’s disgust with them. “And they say he was out with a different woman every night while he was at Cheyenne. Someone saw him.”

  Paige couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “There’s always a they say, but 99 percent of those aren’t true.”

  Mrs. Bradley laughed dryly. “I’m sure this is the one percent. Trust me. For someone with such a rotten mother, he won’t be far behind.”

  No wonder Justin and Mrs. Seymour didn’t like them.

  She pinched her lips into a thin line, drew in a deep breath, then continued. “I don’t know him very well. All I know is that he’s been extremely helpful. He has shown gratitude those who was there for him. And he’s big-hearted enough that despite what you say of his mother, he still rebuilt his old house for her.”

  Her short speech stunned the Bradleys.

  Mrs. Bradley gave a crack of scornful laughter. “He must be doing very well now. Can’t wait to snap up the money pot, huh?”

  “I’m sure Gloria would know that better than me. She was the one who came knocking on my door in hopes of getting Justin to go out with her.”

  The amiable facade on Mrs. Bradley’s face faded. She straightened and jutted her chin out, glaring down at Paige with stiff, pinched lips.

  “Paige’s right.” Mrs. Seymour burst in. “And why do you care? I distinctively remembered you being the one who declared to everyone in town that Justin would never amount to anything.” Mrs. Seymour arched her brow at the Bradleys. “Come on, Paige.”

  Pushing the Bradleys aside with her clutch, Mrs. Seymour dragged Paige along and pulled her back toward the car. “Vultures, I told you,” Mrs. Seymour muttered.

  From behind, she heard Gloria screaming at Jane for something.

  Paige looked over, just in time to see Jane scurrying away.

  “They’ve been like that since high school. I don’t understand why Jane bother to hang out with them.” Moving over to the car, Mrs. Seymour continued. “Victor, you’re right. This girl has it in her. You should hear what she said to the Bradleys.”

  “What did you say?” Mr. Seymour asked as he slipped into the car.

  “The truth?” she said uncertainly.

  On the way back, Mrs. Seymour filled her in on the Bradleys.

  The Bradleys own the town’s grocery store. It was a successful business, and most people found Mr. Bradley to be a nice person.

  Mrs. Bradley, on the other hand, always thought she was better than everyone else because they were considered to be one of the richer families in town. So Mrs. Bradley did everything she could to make the town turn their back on Justin and his mom.

  To her, they were the outcast; the untouchables.

  “His life is like a soap opera,” Paige said her thoughts out loud.

  The Seymours laughed.

  “Maybe that’s why he’s unhappy. Being back here, facing the people and the memories,” she stated.

  “You believe that running away will solve everything?” Mr. Seymour asked.

  “Running away?”

/>   “He hadn’t been back here for nearly 10 years.”

  “10 years? I thought he was coming in and out of town due to his work.”

  Mrs. Seymour shook her head. “He left. He left for nearly 10 years. He’s only gotten back recently. That was why Victor and I were saying how much of a coincidence it was for the two of you to meet.”

  “So you haven’t seen him for 10 years?”

  “Oh, we have. Every year he’ll send us some tickets for a cruise or to some place for a holiday. He’ll pick us up at the airport. I don’t know what brought him back this time.” Mr. Seymour turned into the lane and parked the car.

  Justin’s car was right in front of Paige’s house. At least someone is utilizing the space.

  She stepped out of the car and saw Justin on the Seymours porch, lying lazily on the swinging two-seater, his legs hanging out by the side.

  “Hadn’t slept enough?” Mrs. Seymour chided as she walked across the deck to the door.

  “I was up early, running errands for Miss Watson over there,” he said as he pushed himself up on the chair.

  “Running errands for me?”

  “We forgot to buy the paint for the front porch.”

  “Oh, I was thinking we could use the paints that I already have.”

  “It’s not suitable. You need tougher paints; otherwise it’ll start peeling very quickly.”

  “You should’ve told me, I could’ve gotten them.”

  “I wanted to buy something else anyway.”

  “That’s nice of you,” Mrs. Seymour said. “But it’s no excuse to skip church.”

  “I don’t mind going to church. I mind having to entertain the people after church.”

  “We’ll go cook. You kids go watch TV or something.”

  “I can help,” Paige offered.

  “You can help by accompanying him. Otherwise, he’s going to start looking around for things to fix or buy.”

  Paige laughed softly. “Okay,” she said, moving over to sit next to Justin. “Do you think I can have something like this over on my front porch?”

  “You like this?”

  “Yeah, it’s cute.”

  “Shouldn’t be too difficult to find. So, tell me. Who did you meet in church today?”

  “Mostly Mrs. Seymour’s friends. Oh, and Jane.”

  “Jane Cassells?”

  “Yup.”

  “Still shy?”

  “Very.” She chuckled. And rather afraid of Gloria, she thought. “What else did you buy?” she asked before Justin could ask her another question.

  “Another paint sprayer. It’ll be faster with two.”

  “I should pay for that.”

  Justin shrugged. “It doesn’t cost much, and I can use it in the future anyway.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “And, I just found out that you haven’t been in town for 10 years. So I’m not the only new-in-town; you’re sort of new.”

  “Someone has been gossiping after church,” he teased. “I’m not new in town. I left, then I came back.”

  “Why?”

  Justin leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know.”

  She bent forward and waited for him to turn his gaze toward her. “Welcome home,” she said softly and stood. “I, for one, am glad that you and your paint sprayers are here.”

  Justin broke into a grin.

  “Can I ask another favor?”

  “What do you need?”

  “We have some time now. Do you think you can practice driving with me? Like reversing up the slope and down. And parking.”

  “How did you survive before you got here?”

  “There are subways and taxis.”

  He shrugged. “It is impossible to find parking space in New York.”

  Her smiled grew wider. She could tell he was fairly certain of his deduction and was merely teasing her. She promised Andrew she wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened and why she had to leave New York so suddenly, but surely not denying was fine.

  “Please?” she said, already going down from the porch.

  He stood and followed. “New York. And the ex-boyfriend?”

  “Stop it.” She laughed, but bit down on her lips when she saw the hint of seriousness in his eyes. “I didn’t move here because of my ex-boyfriend. I moved here for a fresh start over something I’d rather forget.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” She arched a brow. “So no more fishing?”

  “I’m sure you found out more than the fact that I haven’t been here for 10 years.”

  Paige blinked, not knowing how to reply.

  “It’s juicy gossip, but you haven’t asked me about it.”

  She frowned. Was she supposed to? She thought he would rather not be reminded of those memories.

  “So,” he said and stood from the chair. “I promise I won’t tell anyone that you’re from New York, and no more fishing.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter Six

  The old, crumbing house that Paige had moved into was slowing turning into a livable house. In a month, the bathroom had been given an overhaul, all the interior walls were painted, and the floorings for her second floor and staircase were completely done.

  Once the bathroom was ready, she moved back into her house despite Mrs. Seymour insistence of her staying until the house was completely ready. Paige couldn’t keep imposing on Mrs. Seymour forever, but she promised Mrs. Seymour that she’d continue to dine at their place.

  So, every morning, except on the weekends, she would go for her run. She no longer saw Justin when she was out running. But with all the work he was doing around the house, there probably wasn’t any need for him to get any additional exercise.

  Every day, they would have their breakfast and dinner at the Seymours. Lunch would be settled at her house, eating her stash of frozen meals, or what Justin called ‘junk’.

  Her life fell into a routine, and she loved routines. The only difference was the time spent on lunch. Each day, the lunch she and Justin had were getting longer.

  They no longer work separately either.

  When she was painting, he’d be helping her. When he was ripping the floors off and taking the kitchen cabinets apart, she’d help him clear away the pieces he’d taken down.

  She ditched her iPhone, giving up the Italian lessons and audio books she was listening to while working so that they could continue with whatever conversation they had over lunch.

  She loved listening to his stories of the things he had seen. He had clearly amassed lots of stories with all his traveling throughout the years.

  As serious as he was when working, he had a lighthearted nature that always made her smile.

  She was beginning to enjoy herself so much that she felt somewhat guilty for looking forward to seeing Justin each morning.

  She did just end her relationship with Cole before coming over.

  But she couldn’t help the way she felt.

  She had found him attractive, especially when his hair was slightly wet from the rain and his darkened hair matched against his dark mysterious eyes. But he was tall and well-built; qualities that reminded her of Andrew, qualities that she’d come to associate with overprotectiveness.

  From the first night she’d met him, she was comfortable around him. Andrew and his friends were much larger than Justin was, so she wasn’t intimidated by either his height or built.

  Then, as they worked together, she began noticing how different Justin was.

  Justin never instructed her on what to do, and never tried to takeover when he thought she was struggling with a particular task. He would help her, either by providing better tools or teaching her some trick to complete the task, but he never treated her like a baby who couldn’t do anything.

  Her lips parted, morphing into a smile as she thought about how Justin had gone downstairs to find her jumping around and still wincing from the pain of her fingernails bending backward when she was peeling off the
wallpaper.

  She hadn’t screamed or anything. It was mere coincidence that he saw her.

  He had gone up to her, took her hand, and asked her what was wrong. His voice was harsh and serious, but after making sure that she wasn’t bleeding, he relaxed and listened to her account of silliness.

  He had laughed and headed out, returning with a flat scrapper. He handed it to her, but pulled it back at the last minute. He made her promise to tell him if she needed any help.

  Once she’d nodded, he gave her the scrapper and went back upstairs to work.

  He did come down periodically to check on her, but that was it. He didn’t hover over her, telling her what was the best way to do it or how she was doing it wrong.

  Then, they began working in closer proximity and she began noticing more of him.

  While Andrew carried bulging muscles, probably a necessity for carrying his heavy field pack and guns, Justin’s muscles were lean and sculpted.

  Each time Justin picked up something heavy, each time he was busy working on something, she couldn’t help but allow her stare to linger for a moment longer than she should.

  Closing her eyes, Paige pushed her hair back and turned off the shower.

  If only there was a way to know that Cole had moved on, that way, she wouldn’t feel so guilty over having such a great time with Justin.

  She sighed softly.

  Andrew did tell her that Cole had called once, and he’d given Cole the letter she’d written; the letter explaining her decision to leave and apologizing that she didn’t think they belonged together.

  Since then, Cole hadn’t called Andrew again.

  Maybe Cole had clean forgotten about her.

  Paige got dressed and moved to the window. She ran her hand down the edge of the curtain; down the line where the cloth had been folded back and stitched, feeling the grains of the cloth against her finger. She gazed out onto the streets and watched Justin parked his car in front of her house.

  A fresh start was exactly what she needed.

  She couldn’t remember when was the last time she looked out of her window from her apartment in New York. Her curtains were always drawn, and she didn’t allow herself to stay by the windows.

  She turned as the classic iPhone ringtone sounded from her bed. Moving over, she stared at the unfamiliar number across her screen.