by Beth Andrews
“Yes. It was a dumb...spur-of-the-moment idea. I know it will require a lot more than a few days’ consideration. Because I’m forced to wait now, I’ll have time to really think things through. That’s not my strong suit, you know. I tend to get excited about something and jump right in, without planning ahead. Like I did with the library.”
“How did that idea come about?” He dried the last of the glasses and set it on the table.
“I was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee one morning and I looked out at the vacant library. It was a mess. The landscaping was totally overgrown. The town sent a maintenance crew over now and then to run a lawn mower, but nothing else. I remembered going in there when I was younger. Especially on rainy days. There was something so comforting in seeing the library all lit up and stepping into its warmth. The smell of the books. Mrs. Anderson behind the counter, smiling...”
She’d been lost in her memory, but snapped back as she handed him a plate. “Anyway, I was tired of waiting for the town to find the money to reopen it and decided to do it myself. One month later, it reopened a couple nights a week. Now, here it is, two years later and while it’s still only open minimal hours, it is open most weekday afternoons and evenings, as well as Saturday mornings. There are new books on the shelves. People use it.”
“You’ve actually made a case for your spur-of-the-moment ideas, rather than a case against them,” he pointed out.
She handed him another plate. “I don’t think remodeling a house over the course of a few weekends would have been that easy.”
He almost laughed at her use of the word easy. He doubted opening the library had been easy by any stretch of the imagination.
“Anyway, it’s a moot point. I’m sorry I was mad afterward. It’s not your fault. Again, I probably owe you a huge thank-you for saving me from myself.”
“What if I want to do it?” He set the plate on the growing stack on her table.
She passed him another one. “Do what?”
He took the dish and dried it. “The charity. The house charity.”
“Not a charity. A foundation. People would ultimately be paying for their own homes.”
“Fine. A foundation. What if I want to help with it?” he asked again.
“You’ll be going back to your own life as soon as your uncle arrives in Valley Ridge. I’m sure you’ve got enough on your plate until then.”
“I’m sort of between projects right now,” he said. He’d been in between projects for two years. “And as for a lot on my plate, this is coming from the woman who has a full-time job, volunteers at a library in her free time, and is now going to take on a new—foundation? I think I can find the time.”
“All right. I guess you could help research how other similar organizations are set up. Remember, rather than building new houses, we’ll be rehabbing existing ones. I like the idea of the greenness of it. Rather than all new materials, we’d recycle and reuse what we can. I guess the silver lining is that I now have time to plan it properly. A friend of mine consulted a lawyer a while back. Maybe he can suggest someone to help us with the legal details.”
Aaron set the plate down. “I have a very good attorney. If he can’t help us with the legal mumbo jumbo, he’ll know someone who can. But that’s not exactly what I was talking about.”
“Then what?” She started scrubbing another plate.
“I’ll give you the house.”
Maeve dropped the plate she’d been washing and let out a cry of regret when she picked up the pieces.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spit it out like that.”
“Not your fault,” she assured him.
“Was it a special dish?”
She didn’t answer. That was the most frustrating thing about Maeve Buchanan. He wanted to know everything, and she offered next to nothing.
“As for your offer, I’m not even sure that Boyd and Josie will accept the house.”
“If they don’t, then we’ll carry on with your original idea and find another needy family.”
He was fortunate that he was so well off. He’d bought the house on a whim. He thought he’d surprise his uncle. But to be honest, Valley Ridge Farm and House Supplies had enough space as it was. They didn’t really need more.
“I can’t pay you the same price you bought it for and still have money left over to fix it up,” Maeve said. “You went over my budget. And realistically, I don’t think any sane person can reasonably expect to start a foundation and renovate the first house in a matter of weeks.”
“I think anything that’s worthwhile happens because someone did what felt right. Because they had faith that they could make it work despite what naysayers might tell them.”
Maeve stood holding the broken plate, staring out the window. She didn’t say anything.
Since he sold his program, Aaron had made an important discovery...money talks. “Let me worry about the cost. I’ll get in touch with the mayor and the attorney and we’ll hammer all that out. Maybe this would be a crazy idea if you tried to do it on your own. But if you have help, it’s not that crazy.”
Aaron could see that was exactly what Maeve had been planning—to do this basically on her own.
“If you do this, then it has to be a community project,” he said. “Something realistic. One house a year. Maybe a Valley Ridge Christmas tradition. The foundation buys back one property that’s reverted to the town for taxes. They rehab it and let some deserving family move in and make payments on a sliding scale, according to their income. The payments go back into the foundation’s savings. Something like that would be self-sustaining and self-perpetuating. Keep it on a small scale, not a lot of bureaucratic overhead.” He shrugged. “I’m not really sure how it would work, but it definitely could work.”
“And you don’t want any money from me?” she asked slowly.
“No. I don’t advertise it, but I’m pretty solid financially.” That was an understatement. “I already bought the house, and I’m sure we can get the community to donate time and supplies.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “There’s a catch.” He started to protest, but she held up a hand. “Don’t deny it. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got this devilish sparkle. So, what is it?”
“If we’re both working on the house, I get to spend time with you. I don’t understand you.”
“Why do you want to spend time with me?”
He thought of the book in her room. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m not looking for romance.”
“Phew.” She wiped her brow with exaggeration. “I mean, nothing personal, Aaron, but you’re not exactly the kind of man I’m looking for.”
“What sort of man are you looking for?” he found himself asking.
She laughed. “I’m not sure, but I suspect I’ll know him when I meet him. That’s how it happened for my mother and father. And after Dad died, Mom thought she was done with romance, but then it happened again for her. Herm walked into the diner, ordered a chocolate milk shake, and to hear them tell it, it happened that fast.”
“And is that how it happened with the string of weddings here in Valley Ridge?”
She nodded, her red hair swishing around her shoulders. She set down the plate and pushed her hair off her face. “Yes. You can tell just by looking at them that Sophie and Colton, Lily and Sebastian, and Mattie and Finn were meant to be together.”
“Soul mates?” he asked. When she looked surprised, he said, “Hey, you don’t have to read romance to know the term.”
“Why do you need to understand me?” She finally set the cracked pieces of the plate down on the counter, and went back to washing the dishes.
She passed him another plate. As he dried it, he said, “I spent a month in detention when I was in eighth grade because I took apart a
computer in the lab. When I come across a puzzle, I have to solve it.”
She stopped, her hands still submerged in soap suds. “I’m not some computer that you can take apart and figure out.”
“No. You’re much more complex, and that makes you even more intriguing.”
“Gee, Aaron, that sounds kind of stalkerish.” She laughed, which told him she wasn’t particularly worried.
“I’m...” He didn’t know how to explain the way she made him feel. “You intrigue me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been interested in someone. It’s as if you’re too good to be true. People don’t just go around buying houses for other people. They don’t let strangers park their RVs in their driveway and invite them to Thanksgiving dinner. They don’t open and run the town library for nothing in exchange. You’re different than anyone I’ve ever met. I want to know what makes you tick.
“And I’ll help. I’ll help you set up the foundation, I’ll help with the renovations, and I’ll even help out at the library.”
“But you don’t want to spend time together in a romantic way?” she asked.
“I can’t get involved with anyone, so, no. But I also can’t get you out of my mind. I don’t like anomalies. I don’t like unanswered questions. And you are both those things.” Aaron used to believe that people were basically good. That life was fair. That if you approached things honestly, everything would turn out all right.
He’d learned his lesson.
Maeve raked her fingers through her hair and they got snagged in a curl. That seemed to annoy her and she yanked her fingers free.
“I’ll donate the house to the foundation and help get things off the ground. The store will donate materials and I’ll pitch in my time.”
Maeve snorted. “Most men, if they want to find out more about a woman, ask for a date. They don’t give away houses.”
“Most women don’t want to spend their savings to buy a house for someone they hardly know.” He shrugged. “So, maybe we should spend time together since we’re obviously not most people.”
She stared at the sudsy water for a moment. “I’m not sure if I like you enough to spend the next month working with you as much as we’d have to work together. I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong idea. You are not the kind of man I’d be interested in.”
“Like I said, I’m not in a position to date anyone.” He almost laughed at his choice of words. “I’m not interested in a romantic relationship. It’s just that I don’t understand your motivation. You said you were homeless once. It seems to me that would make you want to hold on to your savings rather than blow it on someone else.”
She glanced at the wall behind him, and then she looked him in the eye, her hair wild and her hands immersed in a sink of dirty dishes. “If I say yes, you’ll really help me get this off the ground, and get the house ready? If not for Josie and Boyd, then for some other family?”
“I will.”
“And you’re not in a position to date me—”
“Date anyone, not you specifically.”
She nodded. “Anyone. But you’re curious about me. You don’t understand why I do what I do? I can tell you that even if you spend the next month working with me, you’ll probably never understand. Because I don’t have a clue why I do what I do. I see something and I think to myself that might be a good idea. And the next thing I know, I’m doing it.”
“That may be, but you run a library that is a vital part of the community. You have an RV with people in your driveway. And now you have a run-down house. There might be something to your method of madness. I want to see for myself what that is. If you’ll agree...” He held out his hand, and she dried hers on a towel before shaking his. “And the thing is you have free labor. I mean, if altruism is your goal, if you don’t have some angle, then you should be jumping at this opportunity.”
“Okay,” she said. “I think you’re wasting your time, but I’ll agree.”
Aaron felt something in him settle. He might not understand her, but he was pretty sure that Maeve Buchanan didn’t go back on a deal.
“Great. So after we finish the dishes, we can sit down and map out a strategy.”
“Oh, so you’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“A strategy sort of guy.”
“It’s the programmer in me. Step A leads to Step B, leads to...well, pretty soon I’ve written a program. Or in this case, renovated a house.”
“So, let’s get a strategy.” She washed the plate and handed it to him. “But you are crazy.”
“You may be right,” he admitted. “You definitely may be right.”
CHAPTER SIX
AARON AND MAEVE finished the dishes. Afterward, they started their list for the house. Maeve seemed to feel it was only going to need some paint, a new porch and some other minor renovations.
He didn’t want to tell her that he’d been inside and didn’t think renovation was the right word. Reconstruction was more like it. She’d figure it out soon enough for herself.
It was almost eleven when he left Maeve’s and strolled through Valley Ridge toward his uncle’s. Farm and House Supplies. F&H Supplies. Valley Ridge Supplies. VR Supplies. They all had a nice ring. Much better than the current mouthful, Valley Ridge Farm and House Supplies. He thought about going up to the apartment, but he knew he was too keyed up to sleep, so he continued his walk through town.
It hadn’t snowed in a few days and the sky was clear, but it was cold. The puddles had frozen into pockets of slush on their way to becoming ice. The boots he was wearing were a much better winter choice than sneakers.
Most of the shops and businesses had some sort of security lighting, but the light was blazing at MarVee’s Quarters. He started toward it to investigate.
Back when he was a kid and visited his uncle during the summers, MarVee’s had been called the Five and Dime. It closed down and was vacant for years until two women named Marilee and Vivienne had bought it. When they reopened the store, they changed the name from Five and Dime to Quarters...because of inflation.
He smiled as he reminisced. Valley Ridge, New York, was a small town. It had a great sense of community and a lot of heart in its hardworking citizens. And it definitely had its share of quirky residents. His uncle always said that they were part of the town’s charm.
Aaron reached the big plate glass window at MarVee’s and found the lights were on because old Mr. Mento was in the window setting up a train track. Not only a train track...an entire miniature town that was decorated for Christmas. There was a teenage boy helping him. They both looked up and waved.
Aaron waved back. He should have remembered that Mr. Mento’s tradition was to set up the Christmas trains on Thanksgiving night. It was an elaborate display, so he knew the older man would be pulling an all-nighter. But finding the store window decorated was a Valley Ridge Black Friday tradition. His uncle had talked about it frequently. It was a sign that the Christmas holiday season had officially begun.
Aaron went on past the fire station to the town hall. The mayor’s office was there. He’d bought the house there. The house he was using to bribe Maeve into spending time with him.
He’d told her he was curious about what made her tick. That was the truth.
He’d said he wasn’t in a position to date anyone. That was absolutely the truth.
But it was more than that. He enjoyed being with her.
More local government offices marked the end of the town. The handful of blocks that made up the heart of Valley Ridge.
It had just started snowing again. Nothing like the blizzard that brought Boyd and Josie to town—merely a light dusting of flakes. He’d be surprised if there was more than an inch or two of snow come morning.
He turned around and walked back toward the apartment.
&n
bsp; In some cities and towns a couple inches of snow would be enough to shut everything down, but here, along the southern shore of Lake Erie, two inches of snow was nothing. He’d always liked that about his uncle’s town—they kept going no matter what.
He headed down the other side of the street, past the coffee shop. It was one of the new businesses that had opened since he’d last visited his uncle. He’d been there a few times for a good cup of coffee, something he didn’t seem able to make on his own no matter what brand of coffee he used, or how he brewed it.
He walked past the pharmacy, the antique store and the dentist’s office before he made it to his uncle’s store. F&H Supply? In an age when acronyms and texting shortcuts ran rampant, the business’s name was too long.
Maybe he’d talk to Uncle Jerry about switching to the shorter version.
Aaron was still too keyed up to sleep. And knew it wasn’t the question of a new name for his uncle’s store that was keeping him awake. It was Maeve.
He decided to copy old Mr. Mento and get a head start on his Christmas decorating.
He already had his employees coming in tomorrow an hour before they normally would to decorate the store.
He was pretty sure they wouldn’t mind if he did some of it on his own.
He meant to string a few Christmas lights along the tops of the shelves and call it a night, but he got caught up in the moment. Soon black-and-red plaid bows hung from lights and his uncle’s artificial tree stood in all nine feet of glory near the registers.
By the time his first employee arrived the next morning, Aaron had not only decorated, he’d set up a ten hour loop of Christmas music on the intercom system.
He looked at the clock. It was 8:00 a.m. on Black Friday. He knew his mom and sisters were decorating, too. Picturing his family made him feel lighter. He peered out the window, trying to decide whether the store should have some Christmas lights, when he noticed someone near the house he’d bought and given away.
