by Stacey Wilk
Table of Contents
Excerpt
A Second Chance House
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
A pickup truck glided off the road
and stopped behind her car. The sun’s glare bounced off the windshield, making it impossible to see the driver. She shielded her eyes with one hand and gripped her keys with the other.
A tall male hopped out of the driver’s side. “Do you northerners make it a habit of running out of gas?”
Grace loosened her grip on the keys, but she looked around for a way to escape. Maybe a tornado would appear and suck her up in its funnel. She’d hoped Blaise would never find out about her stupidity.
“Did Beau make you come?” Her voice wobbled.
Blaise swaggered up to her. “Nah. After he was done yelling about women and cars, I offered. Figured I’d save Pete the drive and Beau the call to bark at him.”
“Beau was yelling?”
“Whole neighborhood could hear him. Where were you coming back from anyway?”
She turned and looked toward the woods. That might be a good place to run and hide. “I’m sorry I inconvenienced you. I’m not the kind of person who runs out of gas.”
“Lighten up, Grace. Ain’t no big deal.” He pumped up his southern accent. “Pop open your gas tank. You know where that button is?” He laughed. “You weren’t trying to get out of dinner, were you?”
He poured the gas into the car, and she held her nose. “It would’ve been easier to call and cancel, don’t you think?” she said.
“Depends.”
A Second Chance House
by
Stacey Wilk
Heritage River Series, Book One
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
A Second Chance House
COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Stacey Wilk
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by RJ Morris
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Mainstream Women’s Fiction Edition, 2018
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1925-4
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1926-1
Heritage River Series, Book One
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To Chuck, Joshua, and Samantha.
You are my home.
Chapter One
Grace Starr turned her Subaru Impreza into the driveway of her two-story gray colonial with black shutters and matching black double doors. She loved this house with its oversized deck she sat on at night catching the breeze and drinking tea, the big kitchen with plenty of cabinets, and the gas fireplace that burned clean. Twenty-Five Tudor Drive was the place she started a family with her husband and raised her daughter, Chloe.
She hated the For Sale sign in the front yard.
She had an hour before she had to be back at the library. She should get some lunch, take a walk, clean a bathroom. The bathroom would win, and if she had time, she’d throw in a load of laundry, wipe down the counters, sort the mail into piles. Her favorite pile being the one that went into the garbage.
The extra car was parked in the driveway too. What was Chloe doing home from school in the middle of the afternoon? Had there been a half day Grace had forgotten about? Some kind of teacher in-service thing? Possibly. Lately, she kept returning to the bathroom to touch her toothbrush just to see if it was wet. Her mind couldn’t hold a thought if it were a vault. Problem was, she didn’t know if the absentmindedness was her age or the stress of the divorce. Better to blame it on the divorce. She wasn’t that old…yet. Maybe Chloe felt the effects of senior year ending and was ditching.
The garage door yawned open, and Chloe came out in bare feet, her blue-streaked hair bouncing off her shoulders. Her nose piercing sparkled in the sun, mocking Grace from its coveted place on Chloe’s face. Her shorts barely covered the necessary parts, and her shirt showed too much skin.
Grace cringed at the uncontrolled appearance of her almost-eighteen-year-old. She tried to arrange her face in a way that said she was used to seeing Chloe this way. Larry had let her get the piercing. He had bought her the blue dye. Grace was always the bad guy. The boring parent.
Chloe waved something in her hand. “Mom, you’ve got to see this.”
Please don’t let it be a letter from the guidance counselor.
“What are you doing home?” Chloe said, slightly out of breath, through the open car window. “I thought you were volunteering at the library today.”
“I am, later. I was wondering what you were doing home on a Wednesday. Did you get in trouble for wearing that outfit to school?” What was the point in fighting? But she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
Chloe rolled her eyes with the skill of a seasoned pro. “No one dress codes in June. School’s boring. We’re not doing anything. They won’t even notice I’m gone.”
The same arguments about doing the right thing bubbled inside Grace and died on her tongue. Did it really matter? And look what doing the right thing did for her. She had followed the rules and planned for all possible outcomes. She was the dutiful wife, and she had still been evicted from her life. “Don’t make skipping a habit. I don’t care that there’s only two weeks of school left.”
Ignoring her last remark, Chloe shoved the white paper at Grace. “This came in the mail today. I didn’t open it, but it looks interesting. Did Dad get new lawyers or something? Did he move out of state and not tell us? It would be just like him, the jerk.”
“Chloe, don’t call your father names.” Even if Larry was a big fat jerk. Grace inspected the envelope addressed to her. A postmark she didn’t recognize. A law firm’s name and address in the top corner. Pretty official. What had Larry gone and done? She shoved her way out of the
Impreza, gripping the envelope. She took a closer look. Tennessee? “This must be a mistake.” She handed the envelope back.
“Are you kidding? You’ve got to open this.” Chloe shoved the envelope at her. “Maybe we won something.”
“Wishful thinking. I’ve never even been to Tennessee. Take it inside, please.”
“No, Mom. Open it.” Chloe gripped Grace’s hand and shoved the envelope in her grasp.
Why was this so important? “Oh, all right.” She ripped the envelope open and scanned its contents.
A letter on the firm’s letterhead. Her hand began to shake. She had to read it twice to make sure she was seeing things correctly.
“Well, what is it?” Chloe’s blue eyes had grown to the size of sunflowers. Her face sagged when she stared at Grace. “Dad did something bad, didn’t he? He’s keeping all his money or not letting me go to college, right?”
Grace shook her head and searched for her voice. “Surprisingly, Dad has nothing to do with this, but it must be a mistake. There’s no way this is real.” She looked back at the letter. “It says someone has left me a house. Who would do such a crazy thing?” A laugh bubbled up into her throat.
“That’s great. Now we have a place to live. You can tell Dad you don’t need him anymore.”
Grace thrust the letter back in the envelope. Chloe’s loyalty was sweet, but it might not last. These days they got along one minute, and the next Grace had said or done something wrong. Having a teenage daughter could be wonderful and exhausting at the same time. “The house is in Tennessee. You don’t want to live there. I don’t want to live in Tennessee. I like it here, in this town. Like I said, I’m sure it’s a mistake. You want to get some lunch?”
“Wait. Who does it say gave you the house?”
Grace folded the envelope. “I don’t know. They don’t want to be identified.”
“And you don’t think that’s mysterious and want to find out more?” Chloe raised her eyebrows.
She envied Chloe’s ability to still believe amazing things happened at random moments. That was a blessing of youth. “Even if it’s legitimate, which I highly doubt it is, nothing good can come from an unidentified person giving you a house. It’s unheard of and ridiculous. People don’t do things like that.” Well, not practical people anyway.
****
The darkness covered Grace like a cocoon. The only light spilling into the kitchen was the dim one over the sink. She liked this time of night when Chloe either was out or barricaded in her room and she sat in the protection of the dark.
She sipped the white tea with citrus and stared at her computer. The law firm on the envelope had an impressive website. They certainly looked legit. But it still didn’t make any sense. Who would leave her a house, especially one in Tennessee? No one she knew, and no one she knew had recently died. She had no relatives except Chloe. Her father had walked out of her life when she was too young to remember him, and her mother passed away when Grace was in her twenties. Both of her parents had no siblings.
What would it hurt to call? And what if someone had left her a house? The idea began to buzz around inside her head. She could sell it and buy something nicer up here. She had been planning to rent, but with extra money she could maybe buy sooner. Renting left a lot of unknowns, but buying at least would allow her to settle in and make the place her own.
She shook her head. What was she thinking? Stick to the plan. She and Chloe would move in with Grace’s long-time friend, Jenn, until she found a place. She would have to find a job at some point too. The alimony was enough, but it wasn’t her money. Never was.
She gripped the letter, ready to tear it in half. Her cell vibrated and interrupted her thoughts. Who would call at that hour? She checked the screen, and her heart sank.
“Hello, Larry.”
“Sorry to call so late.” His voice was low and raspy, as if he might have been speaking for a long time or didn’t want anyone to hear him. “I haven’t had another chance all day, and I wanted to reach you as soon as I could.”
He had stood in their kitchen on a night not much different from this one and leaning against the gas range, confessed feelings for someone else. He had used words like controlling, obsessive, cold, and buttoned up.
She was controlling, but she wasn’t buttoned up. She thought they were in a rut. Didn’t all marriages have those after nineteen years? How excited could you get when you knew all of the other person’s moves? It wasn’t as if Larry was creative. While she was busy running their home, raising their child, and volunteering at the library, he was busy being creative with someone else, though. Someone younger than she was. Grace was the quintessential cliché. He had packed up and moved in with his young hottie whose skin still stayed in all the right places and who hadn’t pushed a baby out of her hooha.
“I’ve got some news,” he said.
“You’re joining AARP?” She picked at the corner of her letter. She didn’t want this man back, did she? No, not the man. She wanted a marriage and a large family. He never really wanted to share a marriage with her, and his cheating had proved it. He ended the large family dream back when her eggs still dropped on a regular basis. She thought she didn’t care about the latter—how wrong she was—and was too blind to realize she was the only player on the marriage team.
“Stop being so bitter. I have something to tell you. This is going to come as a shock, because no one was more surprised than me. I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud—”
“Could you get to the point?” Why was he calling her with his news? Did he really care what she thought any longer? What was he going to announce? Early retirement?
“Annie and I are getting married,” he blurted in one swift breath.
The phone slipped from her hands. She grabbed at it like a hot potato. “What?”
“I want to buy your half of the house. Before you say a word, just listen. I’ll pay more than the market value for it. You know as well as I do we’ll never get full price for it if we sell, but if you’ll sell your half to me, you’ll get more than you expected.”
She gripped the phone tighter.
“What do you say, Grace? It’s a good deal. Better than you’ll get any other way.”
“Why do you want the house so badly?” She gripped the kitchen chair, trying to steady herself. She couldn’t bare the idea of that woman living in her house. The house she had decorated with careful planning, from the colors on the walls to the pillows on the couch. The cabinets she kept cleaned and organized. The lamppost she had installed by the front walk because it was too dark for guests at night. All belonging to that woman? Over her dead body.
“I want to do this for you. I buy the house, you make the most money on your share, and you’re rid of me. It’s what you want. To be rid of me.”
She wanted him out of her life—no point in denying that little truth. “We have a child together. I don’t think we’ll ever be completely rid of each other, as you say.” She flopped down in the chair, creating a wind that sent the mysterious letter floating to the floor.
“Will you accept my offer?”
“I need time to think about it.” The money would be nice. They hadn’t had any bites on the house, and Larry couldn’t afford the mortgage here and his rent forever.
“We could have the sale completed in thirty days.”
“Thirty days? I don’t have another place yet. I can’t find a place that quickly.” She had barely begun looking. Research needed to be done first. She wanted to create a neighborhood prospectus. The new house would most likely be where she’d finish out her later years. She couldn’t buy a house that had the perfect number of rooms on a pretty yard without careful consideration.
He heaved a sigh. “Listen, Grace, I know this is coming as a shock. I’m a little shocked too, but we want the house.”
“Larry, I can’t make a split-second decision like that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
She wanted to reach thro
ugh the phone and strangle him. “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy in this one. It’s not fair. I need some time.”
Chloe shuffled into the kitchen in her slippers, yanked open the freezer door, and pulled out the cookies-and-cream ice cream. “Is that Dad?”
Grace covered the phone. How can you tell? she mouthed. It couldn’t be the rise and tightening of her voice. Oh no. Not that.
“Did he tell you Annie is pregnant?”
“Your girlfriend is pregnant?” she yelled into the phone.
“What? How did you—”
“Shut up, Larry. Just shut up. Chloe told me. That’s why you want this house so badly, you jerk.”
She stifled a groan and dropped her head between her knees to keep the room from tipping on its side. Larry, with his thinning hairline and paunchy belly, was getting married again and having a baby, having another child she’d wanted so badly her insides had ached for years. He had never wanted more children.
“I have my child,” he had said, flipping through the newspaper as if they had been discussing the weather. “I don’t want anymore.”
“I knew you might be upset. I don’t blame you.”
“Don’t tell me you know how I feel.”
“You’re right. I don’t. Annie loves the house. It has everything we’re looking for, including good schools. She wants to be settled in before the baby comes.”
Annie loved the house? When had she seen it? They wanted their new child to go to the schools Chloe had attended. Grace thought she might be sick. “And if I say no?”
“You’d be spiting no one but yourself. This is the only way to guarantee more than a fair sale price. If you want to sell it to strangers, then we will. I’m going to get married either way.”
Grace went to the faucet and filled the glass with cold water. She gulped it down, hoping to stop the sweats. She stepped on the letter, and the paper creased under her foot. Her damp fingers stuck to the paper as she swiped it from the floor.
Larry was getting on with his life. Had been even while they were still married. In a few short months, Chloe would be off at college getting on with hers. Where would that leave Grace?
She stared at the phone number at the bottom of the letterhead. “You’ve got a deal.” She ended the call and threw the phone down on the table.
