The House on Main Street

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Goodnight, Tess,” he finally managed to say, and then he walked outside, got in his truck, and drove away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alarm system. Done.

  Wallpaper. Ordered.

  Paint . . .

  Yeah. Paint.

  Tess glared at five gallons of eggshell white that sat in the foyer. Sunday morning, and Gertrude and Alex were sleeping in. This was as good a time as any to get some work done inside, but she wasn’t feeling motivated. She was feeling tired, the remnants of the first migraine she’d suffered in years pulsing behind her left eye.

  Stress. That’s what the doctor at urgent care had said before he’d shot Tess full of drugs and sent her home with Gertrude. Twelve hours later, and she was feeling almost normal again.

  Her cell phone rang, and she dragged it from the back pocket of her oldest pair of jeans. Splotched with paint and scribbled measurements, they were so faded and worn, she was pretty sure they’d give up the ghost soon.

  “Hello?” She answered without looking at the caller ID. She knew who it was. She’d sent in her resignation in the wee hours of the morning, right around the time she’d come out of her drug-induced sleep.

  “What in the hell are you thinking?” James Winthrop said in his you-really-pissed-me-off voice. She couldn’t blame him for using it. He’d hired her right out of college, helped her hone her skills and artistry. Like her, he was passionate about restoration of antiques, and they’d been a good team for seven years; first mentor and student, then peers, sharing ideas about projects and working together on several of James’s larger accounts.

  It physically hurt to think of breaking away from that.

  “I’m thinking that I can’t make my nephew leave the only home he’s ever had.” She sat on a paint can, rubbing a knot from the back of her neck, willing the dull throb in her eye to not worsen. “You know I hate to do this—”

  “Then don’t.” He sighed. “We discussed all this when you left for the funeral. We decided you were going to move your nephew and aunt here. I was even going to talk to my kids’ school about finding a spot for Alex.”

  “I can’t do that to him, James. He’s already been through too much. Tearing him away from his home is just going to make things worse.”

  “Would telling you that I’ve been planning to make a special announcement during the company’s annual Christmas party convince you to change your mind?” he asked. “I want to make you a partner. You’ve worked hard for it, proven yourself. It’s time. And not just because I don’t want to lose you. I’ve been planning this for months.”

  Partnership in one of the East Coast’s premier interior design companies? She’d take it. A million times over, she’d take it.

  “You’re quiet. That must mean you’re tempted.”

  Tempted? She was ready to pack her bags and get on the next plane to Maryland.

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she said, glancing up the stairs.

  “Then, come back.”

  “Is that what you would do if you were in my position?” she asked, because James was a father, his children the absolute loves of his life.

  “Don’t ask me that, Tess,” he growled. She could picture him, sitting in his home office, surrounded by swaths of fabric and cabinet samples, probably staring at a picture of his family.

  “I’m asking you because we’ve been friends for years, and because I trust you to tell me the truth rather than what we both want the truth to be,” she pressed, her heart beating heavy and hard. This was why she had postponed sending in her resignation. It was why she’d e-mailed rather than called. James was like a brother to her, his sometimes dramatic and artistic nature tempered by compassion and a true desire to connect with the people in his life.

  “Like you trusted me when I told you Kent was a prick?” he responded dryly.

  “I trusted you. I just chose not to take your advice.”

  “Then trust me when I say that you’re not a small-town girl.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question, and you know it. What would you do?”

  He sighed. “You’re like a dog with a bone, kid. That’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you, but right about now, it’s annoying the hell out of me.”

  “Because you’d do exactly what I plan to. You’d sacrifice anything for your kids, James, and you know it. Even a job you love. Even a partnership you’ve worked seven years to get.” Her voice broke, but her eyes were dry.

  “Are you crying?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because the damn job isn’t worth it.” He sighed again, and she knew he was smoothing his black hair, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. “Okay, here’s the deal. As unhappy as it makes me, I’ll accept your resignation. On one condition.”

  “What’s that?” she said through a mouthful of cotton and unshed tears.

  “Knowing you, you’re already scoping the area for restoration projects. I want in on that. The market here is picked through and expensive. Out there, you might be able to get some farm-fresh product that the firm can use and that my clients may be interested in.”

  “I have a few pieces in mind already, but I thought . . .” What had she thought? That James would break his ties with her completely, sever all communication, turn his back on their friendship because she had to stay with her nephew?

  “You think too much, Tess. That’s your problem. As much as I hate knowing you’re going to be three thousand miles away, I don’t see why we can’t still have some collaboration. I can’t offer you partnership, of course, but I can certainly continue to use your pieces in some of my designs and consult with you on some of my bigger projects.”

  “That means a lot to me, James.”

  “You mean a lot to me, kid.” He cleared his throat. “Do you need me to pack some things up at your apartment and send them your way?”

  “I can’t ask you—”

  “You didn’t. I offered.”

  “It would help. I planned on coming to Annapolis to do it myself, but Alex really needs me here.”

  “Kids come first. I have your house key, so I’ll toss your clothes into a couple of boxes and ship them there. What’s the address?”

  She rattled it off quickly, her stomach churning.

  This was it. The real deal. Knowing James, he’d have the boxes packed and on their way to her by Monday evening.

  “Got it,” James said. “You’re planning to keep the brownstone?”

  “I’ll probably list it.”

  “The market isn’t good. Why don’t you let me find a renter? Maybe someone from the firm? That’ll hold you over until you have time to come out and deal with things properly.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Great. I’ll give you a call once I’ve sent the boxes. I know you won’t be back for Christmas, but think about coming in the spring. Bring your family. You can stay at my place.”

  “I will.”

  “Good, and as soon as you have something ready, send me the specs and pictures.”

  “You can expect something before Christmas.”

  “Make it in the next two weeks, okay? I’m looking for something special to go in Hinckley Manor. A parlor piece would be really nice, but if you have something for the upstairs lounge, that will work, too. I’ll give the kids your love,” he said and hung up.

  And, damn, if she didn’t actually want to cry, because it was over. All those years of hard work, living off of coffee and a couple hours of sleep, so that she could be the best and the brightest in James’s company: They didn’t mean squat anymore.

  Someone knocked on the door, the sound so unexpected Tessa nearly fell off the paint can.

  “We’re closed,” she said as she opened the door.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Cade replied. He looked good, neat and clean shaven, a blue dress shirt visible beneath his coat, dress slacks hugging his firm thighs.

  She knew her cheeks were blazing.
<
br />   She’d been avoiding thinking about him since the incident. She preferred to think of the kiss as that rather than the moment her entire world shifted.

  “Can I come in?” he prodded. “It’s ten degrees out here.”

  “Sure.” She moved aside, catching a whiff of soap and winter as he stepped into the room. “What’s up?”

  “I’m on my way to church—”

  “You’re kidding.” She laughed, the sound spilling out into the foyer and seeming to echo off the walls.

  Hysteria? If it was, she was entitled. Her boss had just accepted her resignation, and she was looking into the eyes of the man who’d kissed her senseless less than forty-eight hours ago. A man that she’d spent ten years trying to forget. Hysteria was as good a response as any.

  “Everyone has to believe in something, Tess,” he said quietly, and her laughter died.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing about you going to church.” She touched his knuckles, fingering the thin scar he’d gotten when he’d freed a cat’s head from the inside of a tin can. “It’s just been a long weekend, and you surprised me.”

  He captured her hand before she could pull back, pressing a kiss to her palm and closing her fingers around it.

  “Apology accepted,” he said. “I heard you were in urgent care yesterday.”

  “From who?”

  “At least ten different people. Ida being one of them. Everything okay?”

  “Just a migraine. You know how those go.”

  “I do.” He eyed the paint cans and the plastic drop cloth she’d laid on the foyer floor. “And I’m wondering why you’d think that painting is a good idea after you’ve been suffering with one.”

  “I feel a lot better today.”

  “You’re pale as a ghost.”

  “Spewing my guts up for twenty-four hours because of a migraine tends to do that to me.”

  “You want to know my opinion?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Tough, because I’m going to give it anyway.” He laughed, and she couldn’t help smiling. “I think you should lie down for a while longer. Make sure you’re feeling a hundred percent before you start filling the house with paint fumes.”

  “Thanks for sharing, but I’m fine.” She popped open a can of paint just to prove her point, gagging when the smell hit her nose.

  “Do not spew,” Cade warned, setting the lid back on the can and tugging her away. “Because that would be really embarrassing for you and really unfortunate for me.”

  “Glad your concern is in the right place.”

  “Sarcasm becomes you, Red,” he murmured, his palm sliding against her bare forearm, his fingers caressing her elbow.

  “Cade—”

  “Tess! Is someone here?” Gertrude called from the top of the steps, interrupting before Tess could say something inane and stupid. Like please, don’t ever stop touching me.

  “Cade stopped by,” she called back, slipping away from his touch so that Gertrude wouldn’t catch a glimpse of them and start thinking something ridiculous that involved a short engagement and marriage.

  “Alex said he heard the sheriff. I thought he was full of sh—stuff.” Gertrude walked into view, her hand on Alex’s shoulder. She’d been keeping him close, barely letting him out of her sight since he’d wandered off.

  He didn’t look happy about it, his brow furrowed, his lips pressed together. He’d combed his hair neatly, though, and dressed in a white button-up shirt and dark slacks that were about an inch too short. White socks. Yikes! Shiny black loafers. She needed to get him some new clothes. Boys his age grew like weeds. At least that’s what James had said when his son was around Alex’s age.

  “You look nice, Alex. Where are you heading?”

  “Church.”

  Surprised, Tess met Gertrude’s eyes. “Really?”

  “Don’t act so shocked, Tess. It’s not like I’m a heathen or something.” Gertrude brushed a hand down black slacks that hung a little too loosely from her scrawny hips. She’d paired them with a muted pink sweater set that only clashed with her hair a little.

  She looked almost . . . respectable.

  “Besides,” she continued, “Emily and Dave brought Alex to church almost every week. He likes the music. Don’t you, son?”

  Alex nodded, patting his thighs and then his knees, his hands and fingers restless without piano keys beneath them.

  “I was heading to church, too, Gertrude,” Cade said. “That’s one of the reasons I stopped by. On Friday, Reverend Fisher asked me to find out if your family needed anything. I told him that I would, but with everything that’s happened, it slipped my mind.”

  “We are not a charity case,” Gertrude said with just enough snoot in her voice to make Tess want to giggle. She’d probably laughed more since coming to Apple Valley than she had in years. Which was funny when she thought about it. She’d been happy in Annapolis. Or maybe satisfied was a better word. Content?

  “His question didn’t imply that you were, Gertrude.”

  “Humph!” she replied.

  “You know Jethro and Natalie. They care about the community and the people in it. They know how difficult losing Emily and Dave was, and they want to make sure that if you need support, they give it.”

  “Well . . .” Gertrude softened a little. “They are good people, those two. I guess it’s fortunate that I’m bringing Alex to church. I can straighten out their thinking while I’m there.”

  “Gertrude, please don’t cause issues,” Tessa said, and Gertrude shot her the death glare.

  “I am going to church. Church is not a place where people cause issues. Not that I ever do,” she snapped.

  “Let’s go,” Alex said, opening the door. Frigid air blew in, and Tessa shivered.

  “It’s still a little early, sport,” Cade said gently, closing the door again.

  “I’m ready,” Alex insisted, patting his stomach, his thighs, his stomach again, and it was all Tess could do not to grab his hands and hold them still.

  “Not yet. You need black socks,” Cade responded, and Alex lifted his foot and frowned.

  “Okay,” he finally said, trudging up the stairs.

  “Good distraction, Cade,” Gertrude said. “But Lord help us all if the kid doesn’t have black socks. I’d better run up there and make sure he can find some.”

  “Are you going to come along, Tess?” Cade asked as Gertrude hurried after Alex.

  “Dressed like this?” She touched her jeans and the old sweatshirt. “I don’t think so.”

  “You have time to change.”

  “I know. I just . . . don’t know about going to church and seeing everyone.” She walked into the front room and pulled back the curtains, letting bright sunlight shine into the room.

  “You saw half the town at the tea. That went fine,” Cade pointed out reasonably.

  “Did you forget my nephew’s screaming rage? Or mine?” She sure as heck hadn’t. All the pain medicine in the world couldn’t knock that one out of her brain.

  “He was screaming. You were . . . venting.”

  “Thanks, but calling it something else doesn’t change the fact that I was cursing like a sailor in front of the reverend, his wife, and half the town of Apple Valley.”

  “So you’re embarrassed?” He leaned against the doorjamb, his shoulders fitting snuggly in a brown leather bomber jacket. He looked nearly edible.

  “Of course, I’m embarrassed. Who wouldn’t be?”

  “Probably just about everyone, but no one is judging you, Tess. Except you.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Sure you are. You think you have to act a certain way, be a certain way. You think you have to put on a show, and somehow doing it will make people around town accept you.”

  “I don’t need or want their acceptance! They’re just a bunch of judgmental small-town hicks,” she snapped, and regretted it immediately, because people in Apple Valley had been nothing but kind since the funeral
. They’d bent over backwards to help, and they deserved better than her derision. “I’m sorry, Cade—”

  “Forget it,” he growled, stalking out of the room and leaving her feeling lower than the lowest kind of scum.

  Let it go, her inner voice said. He’s the guy who broke your heart a dozen times, and you’re better off without him.

  But she couldn’t, because hurting Cade hurt, and because he deserved a lot better.

  She followed him into the foyer and put her hand on his arm. His eyes were stony and cold, his expression hard.

  “That was one of the stupidest things I’ve said in a long time,” she said, her throat tight and hot, regret jabbing like hard fists behind her eyes.

  “I’m one of those small-town hicks that you don’t want to impress, Tess,” he ground out, and she felt like an even bigger loser. “I think you forgot that.”

  “You know that I don’t really—”

  “What’s going on down here?” Gertrude hurried down the steps, Alex following along behind. Black socks instead of white, and for some reason that made Tessa’s eyes fill with tears.

  “Nothing,” Cade bit out. “You two ready to go?”

  “Sure.” Gertrude shot Tess a hard look. Assuming, of course, that whatever had happened was her fault.

  Which it was.

  Because she was an idiot and a fool, and she’d just proven it a hundred times over.

  No one said a word as Cade, Gertrude, and Alex left. Not even good-bye. The door closed. A truck engine roared to life, and then silence descended, leaving nothing but the echo of Tessa’s stupidity hanging in the dusty air.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She would not cry.

  Would. Not.

  Tess sniffed back tears as she poured paint into a pan, nearly puking at the smell of it. Just deserts for what she’d done.

  “Idiot,” she muttered. “Imbecile.”

  It didn’t help.

  The empty house felt lonely, its silence a sad song that she couldn’t stop listening to as she rolled paint onto the wall.

  After all Cade’s kindnesses, after kisses that had curled her toes and made her heart pound hard in her chest, after everything that Cade had done for her family since Emily and Dave’s death, that was how she’d repaid him. By belittling the townspeople he loved and by belittling him.