by Leanne Davis
She sat back up and glanced up. “So I was doing some research on this place. God, it has a whole history, back to when it was built in 1882. Can you imagine? It’s been around for longer than a century. It’s fascinating really, this family the Townsends built the house. They had made their fortune in logging before they had this house built, then moved in. It—”
“I know the history, I’m pretty sure I once told you it.”
She paused. “Sometimes these facts just get me so enthralled I forget most people don’t care. But I was thinking, you should put together a pamphlet about the history. Really play up all the tragedy, angst, betrayal, family history that this house has endured. There is even the suicide in the turret room by one of wives that lived here. I mean that stuff can’t be made up—”
He looked down at her. “No one wants to read about some woman shooting herself inside this house. I don’t want people to think suicide when they look at the turret.”
“It was during the Great Depression, it’s so perfectly tragic, and the time period, people would totally get that.”
“They would get what? Suicide?”
“History. That for a decade the kids who lived here claimed they could hear her ghost standing in the turret on stormy nights—”
“You don’t really believe in ghost stories, do you?”
She got up as he was coming down the ladder, she helped move the ladder as he was picking up the bucket of muck. He didn’t comment as they stood a foot apart looking into each other’s eyes. Hers were animated, alive, excited. About what? Suicidal ghosts?
No. About history. The history Angie so loved. He hadn’t seen her this happy, excited, passionate in years. He climbed the ladder and glared at the slime growing in the gutters.
“No. No, of course not. But think of the marketing ability of that story. That’s the stuff you have to use to create a buzz about Seclusion. Really advertise it to all the local businesses, the motels, the restaurants. Put out flyers, with pictures of the house from the last century to now. Really turn the story from facts to life. It will create a buzz, people always come to places they’ve heard about.”
“What are you, my marketing director?”
“You need one. You’re sitting on a jewel here. You can’t leave it to chance. You need to put a café in too. Take the second living room and make it into a café. Think of the business it would bring. People would pay to sit for an hour to look at this view. Open it for lunch and dinner only, people who come to eat, will eventually come back to stay.”
“A café?”
“Yes. And it wouldn’t kill you to add some kids’ play equipment. Really work up the family angle. Kids see shiny toys and they beg to stay. Trust me.”
“A playground?”
Angie nodded, she turned and started pacing as she walked. “And over there, over the bluff, perfect spot for an archway to perform wedding ceremonies under. Put up one of those elaborate tents and you would be the only destination location for weddings in a fifty-mile radius. I looked it up. The only thing close to a wedding spot like this is the local youth center over in Tillacomson. That’s twenty-five miles away. And this beats a smelly gym any day.”
Sean hadn’t climbed up the ladder. She didn’t notice. He was leaning against it, watching Angie go. She was like a windup toy let loose over the table. Here and back as she talked and walked.
“Now I’m a wedding destination?”
“Think of it, the bridal party would most likely want to rent out Seclusion, that in and of itself, could keep you busy for the entire summer.”
She was walking back toward him. She looked up finally as if to catch her breath. “What do you think?”
“I think I’d better get these gutters clean before that cloud brings more rain in,” he said, as he climbed up the ladder.
“No. About the potential of this place. Not about the gutters.”
He paused, leaned a gloved hand on the rung of the ladder as he studied her. “And therein lies the difference between you and I. You see the pipe dreams; I see the gutters that need to be cleaned before they fall off the house. I see reality; you see rainbows and pots of gold. I think I’ve thought of most of that, and when I’m a multi-millionaire I’ll get started on it all.”
She rolled her eyes. “You bring in investors, get a business loan, you—”
“You have any idea how to do all that?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Well, I do. And it’s not like applying for student loans. They don’t just give the money and say pay it back in twenty years.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did mean. I should do more, be more. This isn’t enough.”
“That isn’t at all what I was saying.”
“It isn’t?”
“No. I was saying you have so much potential here. That you could maximize things, invest in others to increase your pricing, your reservations—”
“You want me to open a restaurant? Have you seen the work my mother goes to for a breakfast that usually feeds up to ten? It’s an incredible commitment of time and money. So how logistically do I open a restaurant? It would require a new kitchen, a cook, a wait staff, let alone the food and drink that would have to be here every day. It would never be feasible.”
She kicked a rock at her feet and rolled her eyes. “You’re so literal. I was thinking, dreaming, can’t you ever do that? Wonder what you could do? What you could be? I didn’t say do it all, I was suggesting you could do it.”
He met her gaze before turning back to the gutters. “I have gutters to clean.”
She turned to leave after glaring at him. “I’m surprised you had enough imagination to even go shark hunting with Marie. I’m surprised you didn’t tell her there was no Santa Claus while you were at it. I don’t think I’ve met anyone so freaking unwilling to take a chance in my entire life.”
He threw another gob of leaves into the bucket. “Yeah, well, some of us can’t always go running off after what catches our eye just then, now can we? We have things to do right where we are.”
She stopped dead on the stairs. “Oh, so we’re going there? I didn’t run from Seaclusion for nothing. I left because I was willing to take a chance in the world. You weren’t, and now look at what that got you. All alone in your big house. And you know what? It may never be more than this because you won’t even try.”
He jumped off the ladder, until he was within a few feet in front of her. “I won’t try? At least I don’t always make the wrong decision then spend years crying about it. At least I stick to what I commit to.”
“What you commit to? As long as it isn’t a human you commit to. You can commit to places. To inanimate objects. To jobs and houses and Seaclusion. But when it requires emotions from you, you won’t do it. You give this house more work than you ever tried to give me.”
“Yeah, well, in my experience you merely let everyone down anyway.”
“Let you down? You wouldn’t even consider leaving here.”
“You wouldn’t consider staying.”
“You didn’t deserve the consideration. You made it known you wanted nothing to do with my baby.”
“Maybe I just wanted a chance to be with you without having to step up and be a father every time. You ever consider that? You were always pregnant. It wasn’t exactly easy.”
“Pregnant with your child, you bastard.”
“Not every time. Besides you were the one who was married within six months of leaving here.”
“I—”
She suddenly stopped talking when she looked past Sean. He turned to see what had stopped her. There stood a family of six, all staring, mouths open, between Angie and him. Their luggage was clutched in their hands. Sean swore to himself, immediately came forward with a tight smile to try and pretend he and the crazy woman on the step hadn’t been re-hashing the intimate details of their past. He heard the front door slam as Angie disappeared inside.
Angie looked up f
rom the laptop she was typing furiously into when she sensed someone watching her. Sean stood in the entry staring at her, his expression hesitant, unsure. She saved her work, and then shut the laptop with a snap.
“What? Are you going to stand there staring at me or apologize?”
“Apologize? Why should I to do that?”
“Because you were out of line.”
“I was also right.”
She watched him come into the turret room and sit near her. She’d taken the room as if it were her personal office, she loved the rounded windows, the feeling of being outside while in. The window seats that made one feel like even lounging there you were actually at the beach. She loved this big, old house.
“You were not right. Not today, and not back then.”
“Because why? We would have stayed together? Look at us, we can’t even talk about it without fighting.”
“Because you bailed.”
“I bailed? How do you figure? You had the boyfriend, the baby on the way, and you think I was the problem?”
“Yeah. You bailed. One word. One, ‘sure, Angie, I’ll try to accept you’ and I’d have stayed.”
“Bull shit. You were itching for any escape you could get. David was just the easiest one. The thing I don’t understand is why you’re back here.”
She set her computer aside. “I told you why.”
“Ah, the commendable student teaching. Why the hell would you settle here? You hate everything about it. Always have. From the ocean to the small town, to your mother living here. And I’d assumed you had added me to the list after your last visit here.”
“No. You were right. I was doing my pattern last time I was here. So I went home and changed it. If you can’t believe that, fine, who asked you to? Certainly not me.”
“Why are you staying here?”
“I thought maybe we could be friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah, friends. We know each other, share history, we share a child. I thought, this time maybe we accomplish friends.”
“That’s what all that crap about Seclusion was? You trying to be friendly?”
“What did you think it was?”
“I don’t know, seemed like you didn’t think I could run this place.”
“I don’t know if you can. But it was ideas. Nothing more. I like ideas, I like to think of them. I’m good at it. I don’t know what that says about me, but there it is.”
He was silent for a moment, finally he nodded toward her computer. “I was thinking that brochure idea, the history and whatnot, that was a pretty good idea.”
She regarded him. “Do you want me to write it?”
“I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
“So ask me.”
“Ask you? I just did.”
“No, you danced around it. Ask me if you want something from me.”
He shut his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Fine. Angie, would you make the brochure for Seclusion?”
“Sure. It’s already half done. But you’ll have to pay me. Say five hundred dollars? That should cover my week here. Seems a fair deal.”
His mouth came open. “You want me to pay you?”
“Of course. Why would I do it for free? Besides it gave me a great idea, I’ve contacted several local businesses with my sample of the Seclusion pamphlet and they’re interested in me making pamphlets for them too. You know, find the local flavor and market it. Turns out I’m pretty good at this.”
“I thought you were trying to be friendly. You turned it into a business?”
“Yes, I think I did.”
He crossed his arms. “When did you become so—”
“Entrepreneurial? When I decided to quit living with my two-timing husband. Now do we have a deal?”
He frowned, but finally put his hand out to the one she had put out and shook on it. “Fine. But I don’t appreciate letting you stay here for the price of a piece of paper.”
“A promotional tool that will increase your overall overhead through increased brand awareness. Brand awareness—”
“Better make people pick up the phone to come vacation here.”
“I’ll have it done before I leave.”
“Leave? Where are you going?”
“My apartment. Monday I’m moving into it.”
“Oh. Okay. You need some help?”
“No. I got it handled.”
“My sister?” he said wearily, probably assuming Sarah would handle it all.
“No. I paid Luke’s nephew Tim Tyler to help me. He’s sixteen, looking to get a car, wants all the jobs he can get.”
Sean blinked. Was he surprised that she had made plans without his knowledge? “Okay, then, I guess it’s a deal.”
Chapter 26
Angie had spent two years bending to David’s will, while hiding her true self, and her true feelings. There were times, now, that she wondered if she’d ever shown her true feelings or her true self. The thing was, suddenly, after deciding to divorce David she felt a glorifying freedom to be herself, an empowering she’d never felt before. She had spent her life looking for love. That compulsive need made her do reckless things, careless things, and she only ended up hurt and alone anyway.
But now that she had Marie, suddenly she didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t looking for the next man to fill something she thought was missing in her. There was no longer a gaping hole inside of her that she felt a compulsive need to fill. She’d waited her entire life to feel better, and now that she did, there was nothing to run from anymore, and no more stupid decisions.
She didn’t know if Sean and she had anything left over, other than obvious issues they had never worked out. The thing was fighting with him didn’t leave her wanting to run away in confusion or flee in shame. It merely left her pissed off. It left her wanting to try and insult him some more. And most of all, it was the most fun she’d had in years. Fighting with Sean Langston, trying to annoy him through siccing Marie on him when he was busy had begun to amuse her like nothing ever had.
Marie talked more than any child she had ever met. Marie could talk nonstop about the same subject for an hour at a time. She was just over two and a half, but she talked like other four-year olds. It was incredible. She was already displaying some of the intelligence of David, and the curiosity and single mindedness of her mother. It was great, wonderful future qualities to succeed in life with. It was also one of Marie’s most annoying traits. So when Marie talked Angie insane, she purposely hunted for Sean, and then guided Marie to him, while making sure to stay back so Sean couldn’t catch her.
Sean was everything she remembered. He was annoying, grumpy, funny, too honest, too forward, too macho. He was also suddenly, strangely responsible, hardworking, successful and focused. The change being, so was she. For once she was all those things too.
She had work of her own to do. Work that applied toward something that just might for the first time in her life give her some independence, some confidence, and a real life for herself and Marie. Because the truth was, she didn’t miss David. He’d surprisingly done her a favor by cheating on her, one she wouldn’t have done herself; made her go find her own happiness.
She didn’t know what that was yet. She thought it might be teaching, it was definitely Marie, and it was beginning to seem like even Seaclusion might be the place she wanted to stay. And eventually maybe, she wanted to see about Sean.
But right now, she was having too much fun bothering him. Annoying him. Pissing him off to the point his face turned colors.
Angie left Seclusion without much ado. She packed their bags, loaded her car, paid her bill, waved goodbye to Tina and left. Sean was busy out doing one of his thousand chores. Most of which she noticed involved a ladder. No one could claim he didn’t deserve his success. He worked harder on Seclusion than anyone else she knew worked at their jobs, or at their dreams.
She passed Sean in town. They sometimes spoke briefly, or smiled politely or at other times they
exchanged painful small talk when absolutely forced to. It was as if they were finally, vague, friendly, nothings to each other. Something Angie didn’t think she wanted, but she was too busy, too focused, enjoying herself too much to think about much more. She was for once not obsessing about what her life could be, but enjoying what it was. And she was finding that she liked it that way.
She moved into the apartment over Sarah’s Secrets in town. It was where Sarah used to live before she and Scott got married. Angie arranged the apartment, she organized the closets, and she bought food and supplies. She for once made her own home hers. She realized she had eclectic taste. She liked brown too. In fact, she loved the color brown, and used it as the base for decorating, despite how Sarah cringed over it. Angie stuck to her guns. She bought her furniture. It was sturdy, big, and stout. There was nothing frilly or dainty in sight, it was all what she liked and wanted. It was her place.
And over the summer she finished up a bunch of her classes in between playing with Marie. The coming fall, she started student teaching with Luke Tyler, the man raising her daughter. It took a while, but finally after a few weeks together the awkwardness started to recede. It was hard work, his job. Keeping the students in line, interested, passing. It was a quest between teaching and babysitting. Between being the students’ friends so they wanted to come to your class, and not being their best friend. It was finding a balance of being knowledgeable and yet still approachable to hormone filled teens who most wanted nothing to do with the subject matter you were trying to teach them. Angie realized how little the knowledge teachers had actually got appreciated by high school students they tried to share it with.
Strangely, she became almost friends with her daughter’s adoptive parents. Luke asked Angie over to his and Kelly’s house quite often to go over things together. And somehow it would work out to bring Marie, and suddenly, Amy would babysit Marie, until eventually Amy came over to Angie’s apartment to watch Marie while Angie worked on her school work.
Marie beamed in excitement over Amy. Just the mention of Amy had her grinning and asking for her. She started to save treasures to show Amy, or draw her colorful scribbles, that Amy hung in her bedroom to please Marie. They were eight years apart, didn’t share parents, but they seemed to have a connection no one else had counted on. And suddenly Angie had the tie, the anchor, the commitment to Seaclusion she had never had before; her daughter needed her big sister. The thought was stunning to her. She’d never considered she’d get Amy in her life and in such a way that it worked out for everyone.
