Flipped! (Spinning Hills Romance 1)

by Ines Saint

  According to the town’s yearly ghost tour, Manor Row was the third most haunted street in Ohio. Probably because no one who’d chosen to live in Spinning Hills over the last two decades could afford the rehabilitation and subsequent upkeep of any of the eleven mansions on the street. Renovating any of them would cost more than it could ever be sold for. What had Sam been thinking?

  “It’s on the corner of Manor and West Main, so people will be less likely to mind the rest of the street, it faces the river, and it’s a five-minute walk to the schools and downtown Spinning Hills. I’m thinking of turning it into four apartments.” Sam turned to him. “Let’s get going.”

  Sam’s plan made sense, but Dan would feel better about it if he could visualize it. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  Johnny texted them a few minutes later, asking if they wanted to hang out. Sam told him where they were going and asked him to bring his laptop, which he’d forgotten back in the office.

  A few minutes later, Dan was looking over the house while Sam explained his ideas. He then stood in the middle of what had once been a grand dining room and tried to picture it all. “You know, it might just work. The bike path that runs along the river would be a draw for young professionals working in downtown Dayton who are looking for more of a small-town atmosphere.”

  “It’s a fifteen-minute bike ride to Riverscape.” Sam nodded, mentioning a downtown Dayton park that hosted festivals, concerts, ice-skating, and more.

  “When would you start?” Dan asked. The feeling that this was something he’d like to take part in threaded through him. If it worked, the entire street might eventually be brought back to life. It would take years, but if the town continued on its current path, Manor Row would be the icing on the cake that was Spinning Hills. Or was that wishful thinking?

  Johnny arrived with the laptop and looked as enthusiastic as Dan was about Sam’s plan when they filled him in on what they were doing there.

  Sam showed them initial plans, and each brother laid out his particular ideas and vision. As different as they were, they usually had no problem agreeing on how to restore and modernize a place. They’d worked with their father throughout their teenage years, and he’d drilled the principles of preservation and aesthetics into them. Sam had earned his degree in preservation architecture, and they knew to defer to his judgment. Not that a few arguments didn’t break out, but it was all part of the fun.

  “So, how’d it go in Toledo? Did you get the stained-glass window?” Sam asked when they were through.

  “We came back empty-handed. The woman wasted our time,” Dan answered, not looking at his brothers. He’d tell them what happened when he was ready.

  “She didn’t have it?” Sam looked up from the laptop he’d just closed.

  “Or the memorabilia?” Johnny asked.

  “She didn’t have anything either of us wanted.”

  Sam and Johnny looked at each other, but didn’t say anything.

  Dan fell asleep the moment he hit the bed, just as he’d intended. One moment he was arranging his sheets, the next he was dreaming he was in a room with multicolored sunlight streaming through an open window. A bright white curtain fluttered in the breeze. He looked down but couldn’t see his body. A sound caught his attention and he turned. There was a little girl curled up in a corner of the room. An older woman was ripping up a piece of paper on top of the huddling little girl, yelling hysterically, “You can never do anything right.”

  The little girl looked up, scared and uncomprehending. Her eyes were summer sky blue, and her hair was dishwater blond. She looked to be about six years old.

  It was his mother. He’d seen tons of pictures of her as a little girl. She’d hung them all over the run-down house they’d shared until he was seven.

  The hysterical woman left and the little girl turned to the wall. The multicolored light streamed over to the little girl’s fingers, and she wiggled them. The light shimmered, and she smiled, but her smile and her mood were chilling. She used the light to draw a new little girl. She said, “You’re perfect. You do everything right. Everyone loves you,” to the new little girl, who was warped, and not perfect at all.

  The light from the new little girl took over, blinding him one instant, and fading to black the next.

  Dan shot up and looked around, half-expecting to still be in that room. But he was at Johnny’s, and only the light of the full moon was streaming through the open window. It had gotten chilly and the cold air was instigating nightmares. He got up, shut the window, and closed the blinds.

  Holly and Ella got up early and went downtown to help hang wreaths and anchor Christmas decorations, but there wasn’t much left to do when they arrived.

  Sherry and Rosa were serving coffee, hot cocoa, and sugar cookies to volunteers under the gazebo. Holly took some coffee and sat at a nearby table to watch Ella play on the swings.

  “How’d it go yesterday?” Grandma Ruby came to sit beside her. “Did you find any interesting memorabilia?”

  Sherry and Rosa looked over, interested, but Holly hadn’t thought about what she’d say if anyone asked. “No. It was noisy when the woman and I spoke and we must’ve misunderstood each other.”

  “What about the stained-glass window?” Sherry asked.

  “I’m sorry, it’s a long story and I’m not up to telling it yet. We wasted our time, and you know how I hate wasting time.”

  “Well, I hope Dan is grateful. Because of you he found at least one of the windows and that wonderful tub. Johnny also said he used a few of your ideas and they look great,” Rosa said.

  Sherry tapped her finger on her lips. “You know, now that I think about it, helping him with the house was a great strategy. If you negotiate a discount in exchange for your services, you might be able to swing it.”

  “It wasn’t a strategy—” Holly began, but she was interrupted by Rosa.

  “The problem is that some men get off on negotiating. It brings out their competitive nature and makes them fight for the upper hand.” Rosa lifted a fist. “It would be smarter for her to subtly open his eyes to how valuable her input was and then charm him into giving her a discount.”

  “I have no intention of negotiating with him or charming him—” she tried again.

  “You forget this is Dan Amador we’re talking about. The boy was always smart. He’ll be on to her if she tries to charm him into anything. I think she should be straightforward about what she wants.”

  “I don’t know what I want.” She finally got a word in. “I mean, I know I don’t want the house at any price he could name, even with a discount. It would still be too much. Please listen to me,” she explained, trying not to sound exasperated. Why couldn’t they let the house thing go? “He’s put a lot of work into it. Whatever he tacks onto it, even with a discount, would cut into other, more important priorities. I’m okay with finding another house.”

  “What about Ella? She had her heart set on living next door to Gracie and building a tree house in that maple in the backyard,” Sherry reminded her.

  As if I needed the reminder . . .

  “The branches on that old silver maple are perfect for a tree house,” Rosa mused.

  Holly’s exasperation with them dissolved. “Look, I appreciate you all thinking of Ella, but disappointment is a part of life. We all know that! This has been good for her in a way. It was a dream that didn’t come true, and she learned to let it go.”

  Johnny came by then, with Ella in tow. “She says she’s hungry. I’m gonna pick up a few subs at Milano’s. Do you want me to bring back anything?”

  Holly smiled and got up. “Thanks, but we’re going home for lunch. Ella wants to be at the library for story time.”

  Sherry, their resident storyteller, looked at her watch. “That’s right, I have to get going.”

  “Oh. I almost forgot.” Grandma Ruby grabbed Holly’s arm. “I can’t make it to the ballet next Friday. Mr. Linden and I have to go see about materials for the new stage we’re hav
ing built for the Christmas Eve Festival. I’m sorry, hon. But Ella can still stay over that night, if she wants to.”

  “I want to!” Ella exclaimed.

  “I understand.” Holly kissed her grandmother’s cheek and was about to turn to Johnny to see if he wanted to go, when Ella piped up.

  “Maybe Uncle Dan will go. It can make him happy again.”

  All eyes turned to Holly. “He wasn’t sad. He was only tired.” She stroked Ella’s hair, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes.

  “That lady made him sad.” Ella looked up at her.

  “Because she didn’t have anything he needed or wanted.”

  “Those were Dan’s words, exactly,” Johnny said, watching her closely. “What happened yesterday?”

  “It was a long trip that ended in nothing. We wasted our time,” Holly said once again, never taking her eyes off Ella. “And I don’t think Dan’s into Cinderella, sweetie.”

  “But he came to my tea party and we played tricks on you,” Ella reminded her. “And he jumped like a yo-yo.”

  Everyone’s eyes were now boring into her. The air around them crackled with unsatisfied curiosity. Holly took Ella’s hand and began pulling her away. “We’ll make a deal. If we run into Dan, you can ask him to go.”

  “I’ll make up a spell to convince him.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s go.”

  Dan slept till noon, something he hadn’t done in years. He got dressed and shot down the stairs. Sam and Johnny were eating sandwiches at Sam’s desk. “We brought you a sub.” Sam extended a wrapped package his way.

  Dan’s mouth watered. “Thanks. And don’t talk with your mouth full of meatballs. It’s gross,” he teased, feeling more like himself.

  “I saw Holly and Ella this morning.” Johnny glanced over at him and Dan tensed. Holly wouldn’t say anything about meeting his mom . . . would she? “Ella said she’s going to invite you to see the Cinderella ballet at the Victoria Theatre next Friday, since Ruby can’t go. Thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

  “Cinderella? Me?” Dan scoffed.

  “Ella thinks you’re a fun friend. Something about you drinking tea and bouncing like a yo-yo. She also thought a lady made you sad and you needed cheering up.” Johnny raised both eyebrows.

  Sam nearly choked on his meatball sub. “Dan was at one of Ella’s tea parties?”

  “Why do you think I was so sad?” Dan joked. “And the yo-yo thing was at Imagination Station, to show Holly up. You would’ve done the same thing.”

  “Impress a woman by bouncing like a yo-yo? I don’t think so.” Johnny snorted.

  “I said show her up, not impress her.”

  “You don’t impress a woman by showing her up, Dan.” Sam tsked.

  “Funny. Now, are we going to continue to chat like little sisters, or are we going to get some work done today?” Dan asked.

  “Not working today. We’ve just been helping out with Christmas decorations around town,” Johnny informed him.

  “Are you gonna help, or do you need some more beauty sleep?” Sam asked, looking at his watch.

  It was on the tip of Dan’s tongue to tell him he’d helped plenty last night, but it occurred to him his brothers had probably already known. He ate his sub and tried to come up with a valid excuse to say no to Ella’s invitation. There was no way in hell he was going to a Cinderella ballet.

  “Holly told Ella she was only allowed to ask you to the ballet if she ran into you, by the way,” Johnny mentioned, easily guessing his thoughts.

  “Good to know. I’ll steer clear of the Craftsman unless Ella is at school.”

  Learning about history had always been his favorite way of getting his mind off the present, and he was lucky to make a good living doing just that, by analyzing legal precedents. Coming up with a legal strategy was always an invigorating intellectual challenge.

  Writing his opinion up was another matter. It was draining. He threw his pencil on the library table he was occupying and rubbed his eyes. The voices and people around him came into focus.

  Childish voices and a familiar soothing tone drifted to him from beyond the shelves behind him. He smiled, going back in time in an entirely different way. It was story time, and Sherry had always been everyone’s favorite storyteller. She’d make up stories where either kids or animals were their own heroes in some way. No damsels in distress for Sherry.

  Hearing her storyteller voice took him back to when he was a kid. Holly’s mom would watch him on Saturdays from noon to five, while his dad visited his work sites to see what progress had been made during the week.

  Crystal was pregnant at the time and tired easily, but she was good to him. From noon to one, they’d take a walk and stop at the Gypsy Café for some fruitcake before heading to the library for Sherry’s story time. From two to three they’d watch reruns of Mr. Rogers’ and Reading Rainbow. Nap time came next, and then playtime until his dad picked him up. Those were pleasant, restful days. He always started out wishing he could stay with his brothers or tag along after his dad, but Crystal always made him forget he missed anything.

  Funny how the memories came back so clearly when he hadn’t thought of those days in years. Bits and pieces of Crystal and Ruby’s arguments at the coffee shop came back to him. He didn’t get what they were arguing about then, but he understood it now. Crystal hated anything esoteric, and Ruby loved everything supernatural. “No, I’m afraid I most definitely don’t believe in princes,” Sherry’s voice cut into his thoughts.

  “Okay,” a voice harrumphed. The voice belonged to Ella. “Do you believe in magic? Grandma does.”

  A pause. “Do you feel loved?” Sherry asked.

  “Yes!” came Ella’s confident reply.

  “Well, you know that pressure you feel inside when someone who loves you hugs you?” There was another pause, and Dan could imagine Ella’s head of curls bobbing up and down. “It feels glorious, but it’s a force no one can explain, so we call it love. Almost everyone has felt that force, so we put a name to it. When a force is so rare that no one can explain it or put a name to it, we call it magic, but it doesn’t mean there’s anything cagey about it. Do you understand?” Sherry sounded doubtful.

  “A little.” Ella sounded doubtful, too.

  “Sleep on it tonight.” Sherry chuckled.

  “Uncle Dan!” Ella exclaimed, spotting him.

  Dan waved. She got up and ran toward him, waving a glittery stick in front of her. “Bibbidi bobbidi . . . fudge, Dan will Cinderella watch,” she chanted, her face all lit up with pleasure over what she clearly thought was a rhyme.

  Dan’s eyes widened. He hadn’t come up with an excuse. “Uh—”

  “It’s next Friday. Will you come?”

  “What time?” he asked, still trying to think up an excuse.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  He cleared his throat. Refusing a three-foot costumed fairy godmother holding up a wand and chanting a made-up spell made him feel like an ogre. “I’ll, uh, check my calendar and let your mom know.” He’d text his no to Holly. The cowardly way.

  “Isn’t your calendar on your phone, like Mommy’s?” Ella touched her wand to his phone.

  “No, I’m old school. Besides, I still don’t know what time the play is. But I’ll text your mom.”

  “Hey, pumpkin, there’s your mom outside. She’s looking for you through the window.” Sherry’s voice cut in.

  “Mom!” Ella turned and skipped away.

  Parents’ and children’s voices again faded to the background. Holly was near. Something sweet and painful twisted deep inside him.

  “Aren’t you a little old for story time?” Sherry appeared before him.

  “No one’s ever too old for a good story.” Dan motioned to the chair in front of him.

  “Charmer.” She sat down, one leg tucked underneath her, giving the impression she’d pop up again at any moment. With her petite frame and pixie cut, she almost looked like another kid.

  “
Me? A charmer? Nah. You’ve always been an optimist.”

  “True enough. So, are you going to watch the ballet?” she asked.

  “No way in hell.”

  “Why not? You’re never too old for a good story, you know.”

  Dan laughed. “I thought you hated fairy tales.”

  “Yes, well, I never liked the idea that a woman needs a prince to rescue her.” Sherry rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth went up. “But I have nothing against falling in love. Mack and I fell in love and we were both better off for it, though it wasn’t always smooth sailing,” she said, mentioning her late husband. Dan had liked Mack a lot. He’d been all about living. Probably a little too much. He drank, ate, and laughed a lot and often.

  “It’s this idea that the man has to be born into power and wealth and that the woman has to be rescued that bothers me,” Sherry continued. “Even in these new stories, where the girl rescues herself, one of them is born into privilege. Why can’t they both be people of average means who forge a life for themselves?”

  “Don’t let Ella hear you.” He smiled.

  “Oh, she’ll come down to earth sooner or later. A lot of little girls like fairy tales but most grow out of them.”

  “What if Ella grows up and somehow finds a prince who takes her away to a castle where she’ll never have to worry about things like laundry and groceries and paying the rent or mortgage?” Part of him was teasing, but part of him hated the thought of Ella coming down to earth, which was weird, because he was all about living in reality.

  Sherry frowned. “Now that you put it that way, I was kind of hoping that would happen to Holly. Well, not the prince and no laundry or groceries or mortgage part.” She looked up, as if something had just occurred to her.

  “So you’re saying you want average Joe to carry Holly off to a castle and saddle her with its mortgage?” He quirked an eyebrow.