Another flight of steps behind a hallway door led to the attic, but she wasn’t up for that just yet. Heading back down the stairs, grasping the rails with both hands, she decided that she would set up her bedroom in the main floor den for a while, at least until she could manage the stairs better.
Sitting on the bottom step to rest, Julia tried to imagine the home filled with furniture, but no visions materialized. Rays of sun streamed across the dusty floor and her thoughts wandered.
Her things would never fill this space. She didn’t own much now -- just a mattress and box spring, a small folding table with two chairs, a few boxes of clothing, and her basic kitchen pans and dishes. She couldn’t fit much into her room at the rehab center, besides, she wanted nothing of her past. Her things would only have reminded her of what she’d lost. Memories attached to the city and the people and things she’d cared about were far too painful and confusing to face on a daily basis.
She stood to meander across the living room, Ringo by her side, his nails clattering and echoing in the empty room. Perching on the built-in seat under the front windows, Julia stared across the overgrown, weed-riddled yard. Ringo jumped into her lap and licked her hand. Absently petting the dog, Julia resolved that this was where she belonged. No one here knew anything about her, the house needed her, and she could finally get on with her sorry life.
That deliveryman, Chad, crossed her mind, but she immediately turned her thoughts away. She didn’t want or need any kind of romance. The scars slashed across her heart were far from healed, and if she were honest with herself, she didn’t know if she was even capable of managing a relationship. She was no Snow White, and she certainly didn’t deserve a Prince Charming.
Shrugging off the dismal thought of men, she headed toward the back of the house. The realtor had said there was a mower in the garage, and she’d need all her strength and determination to mow the front yard. She couldn’t have Ringo running around up to his eyeballs in weeds.
At the back of the house, Julia found a neglected, weather-worn, detached garage. She circled it once, her mouth tugged into a grim slash, trying to decide if the decrepit building would stay standing long enough to even open the door. The filthy windows were dark and the wood shingles were gray with age, yet somehow managed to cling to the bowed gray roof. Ringo barked from inside the house as Julia tugged at one of the sagging double doors of the garage. The door should have rolled on casters overhead, but even without a ladder, she could see that the track was rusted, and leaves and debris clogged the wheels. She wasn’t strong by any means, but she was determined and was finally rewarded by the door skidding open wide enough to walk through.
Patting her back pocket and groping for her ever-present notebook, Julia realized she’d left it in her purse. She could have started a mental checklist of things to do and add cleaning the tracks over the garage door to the many things already piling up in her mind, but she knew that she’d never remember the list and only be frustrated that she’d forgotten the whole thing. She’d have to walk around the property later with her notebook and take notes.
When the door was finally open, Julia stood scrutinizing the dark interior of the garage. Cobwebs hung like fairy wings from the open rafters, the air was heavy with dust, and a streak of dim sunlight gleamed weakly through the cracked window on the back wall to land on the dirt floor. A gray wood ladder lay tucked among the rafters, alongside various warped boards and an old toboggan.
As promised, a relatively new lawnmower sat near the front. Evidently the real estate firm had been sending someone to mow, but once the house had been purchased, they hadn’t come back.
Tugging the mower out into sunlight, Julia paused to catch her breath. Why were everyday tasks still so hard? Bending to put her hands on her knees, her head hanging, for the first time she seriously doubted her choice to move to Smithville. If she couldn’t do something as simple as open the garage, let alone cut the grass, how could she manage to take care of a home?
Desperate and angry, she stood upright and kicked the mower, then perversely watched for a response. Nothing happened, of course, her hopelessness never seemed to change anything, so she reached for the pull handle. Remembering her father starting his lawn mower back in her childhood, which seemed five lifetimes ago, she gave the handle a sharp tug, nearly unhinging her shoulder. Luckily, the mower started with the first yank, and she turned to bump the noisy machine down the strip of grass beside the house leading to the front lawn.
* * *
An hour later, Julia put all her weight into pushing the garage door closed and flopped against it, gasping for breath. Sunbeams sliced through the naked tree branches, casting stripes across her face. Goosebumps rose along her arms as she brushed dust and dead grass from her shirt. The temperature was dropping as the spring day drew to a close, and even though she was overheated, a chill rose across her skin.
Limping up the single step to the back room off the kitchen, Julia turned the handle and braced herself for Ringo to vault into her arms. As expected, the little dog jumped into her waiting hands, lapping at her face as if she’d been gone for weeks. Inhaling the mingled scent of frantic dog and cut grass, she walked inside and leaned against the wall to rest.
“Come on, boy, come see what Mom did,” she finally mumbled to the wiggling dog, straining her neck to evade his kisses as she plodded forward. The old house echoed Ringo’s whimpers and Julia’s sighs as she wandered through the living room to the front window. She held up the little dog to see out. “See? There it is,” she whispered to the dog. “Your bathroom.”
Dropping into the window seat, Julia stared blankly toward the fresh lines in the newly cut yard, now dappled with shadow. Patches of sky past the yard were streaked with pink and orange, warming her weary heart.
She had no idea what would happen to her now, but she was away from the city, the past, and the pain. Loneliness she could handle. She knew that for a fact. Her expression darkened. Chad would be delivering her furniture soon. Turning away from the window, she cuddled Ringo and stubbornly decided that she would be just fine there alone, and she did not need anyone to come over – especially not Chad.
Chapter Two
In the truck hauling the moving container, Chad and his helper, Bobby, lumbered to a halting stop in front of Julia’s house. Tooting the horn to announce their arrival, Chad huffed out a sigh and turned to Bobby with a grin. “Let’s get this unloaded, shall we?”
The short thin man in the passenger seat pushed his thick glasses up on the bridge of his nose and reached for the door handle. “No problem, it can’t hold much, as light as it is.”
A tingle of anticipation surged momentarily under Chad’s skin, and he wondered at the sensation as he tugged on his work gloves. It was uncharacteristic of him to be intrigued by Julia, let alone care why she was here or what she would do next. He usually didn’t think about women until work was finished, his day was winding down, and he was ready to relax.
The men jumped down from the truck and walked across the lawn. Chad cupped his hand over his eyes to get a better look at the old house. The place looked much better than he remembered, with the windows sparkling, the grass cut and fresh, and comfortable wicker chairs on the porch. The roof and porch rails had also been repaired recently. Distractedly, his head nodded in approval.
As they crossed the yard, Chad could hear bits and pieces of the Beatles song, Here Comes the Sun, filtering from the house, causing him to smile. The gingerbread-trimmed screen door creaked open, and Julia ambled onto the porch. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, and her loose blond curls ruffled in the breeze.
The sun indeed, he acknowledged.
A shy smile flickered across her face, then disappeared as she glanced over their heads toward the truck. She bit the inside of her cheek and shoved her hands into her front pockets, murmured something to the little white dog, and let the door bang closed. Behind her, the dog stood inside with his front paws on the screen, his tail waggi
ng.
Chad glanced back at the truck and wondered momentarily what had made Julia apprehensive. Then, taking the lead, he stepped up to her and extended his hand. “Morning ma’am, nice to see you again. This is my helper, Bobby.”
Ringo barked twice in greeting. Julia shook Chad’s hand with a head bob and glanced toward Bobby, who pushed up his glasses and dipped his head in greeting. Releasing Chad’s hand, she stepped forward with her hand out to Bobby. “I’m Julia. Nice to meet you.”
The little man cleared his throat, leaned forward, and pumped her hand determinedly. His eyes appeared extra-large behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “Mighty nice to meet you as well, ma’am. Me and Chad, we got this handled for you. That’s our specialty you know, moving, deliveries, and such.”
Julia retrieved her hand and absently massaged the edge of her palm with her other hand. “I don’t have much, this shouldn’t take long.”
Chad watched as a multitude of expressions fluttered across Julia’s face. He noted apprehension, embarrassment, and maybe sadness, but she had a way of quickly arranging herself back to dignified before he could put a finger on how she was feeling.
Julia turned toward the front doors. “Come into the house, and I’ll show you where I’d like things to go.” She waved at them to follow.
As he stepped onto the porch, Chad watched Julia’s retreating back, noticing how petite she was. Her steps were slow and measured, with the music. Her hand movements, even the way she spoke, appeared as if she had calculated every word and motion. She reminded him of a delicate bird -- plucky and sensitive. Again, he marveled that she was different than the brash women he spent time with. Not only did she have the most haunting dark eyes, but her voice was deep and silky, like a river. She made him feel restless and contented, both at the same time, and she had a tangible quality he couldn’t label. Usually, he noticed women’s physical assets more so than enigmatic feminine mysteries.
She opened the screen door and caught him staring like a schoolboy. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward and off-kilter. “You wanted to show us where to put things?”
Tilting her head, she gazed at him, her strange eyes piercing his thoughts and derailing his mindless question. She said nothing, just continued to search his face. One delicate brow arched as if she knew what he was thinking and had come to the conclusion it wasn’t good.
Bobby clomped up the steps, breaking the tension, and the men followed Julia into the living room where Chad immediately saw more improvements. Two plastic lawn chairs were the only furniture in the room, but the house was clean and bright with the smell of lemon-oil soap radiating through the space. Repairs to the woodwork around windows and doors were evident.
Bobby sniffed and glanced around the room. “Ma’am, this place looks mighty nice. It surely does,” he said, his thin face full of admiration.
Julia smiled warily, wringing her hands.
The slight man pushed up his glasses, strode to the stairs, and glanced up. Ringo jumped around Bobby’s work boots, sniffing his pants leg.
Bobby scooted nervously away from the dog and pointed up the steps. “Do you want a bunch of stuff upstairs?” he asked, dancing to avoid the dog. “Because we charge extra for that, you know. More effort and manpower and all. It’s in the contract.”
Julia patted her leg and called to Ringo. “That won’t be necessary. I’m going to use the first floor while I’m—” She paused, her face fell and she went pale, “—working—upstairs.” A slight blush crept up her cheeks, and she clasped her hands in front of her.
Sidestepping the little dog, Bobby pushed him away with his boot. Julia bent and scooped Ringo up, tucking him squirming and bucking under her arm.
Chad nudged Bobby with his elbow and headed toward the door. “You go ahead and stand right there, Julia,” he said, pushing open the screen. “As we come through, you just say where you want us to put things.” He grinned over his shoulder, then headed toward the truck.
* * *
As soon as the men stepped off the porch, Julia turned away and let Ringo down to bark at the door. The room narrowed as her vision fogged. Her breath caught, and she pressed her cold fingers to her cheeks.
Even the most casual conversation was difficult. Small hesitations, like just now when she had forgotten the word “renovate,” caused her heart to seize in her chest.
Wandering across the room, she rubbed the side of her hand. Thoughts still came to her as quickly as they ever had, but since her illness, the words got lost and disappeared somewhere between her brain and her mouth. It seemed like once she lost a word, she got flustered and struggled to maintain her emotions. She would never adjust to being so slow.
Never.
Feeling light headed, she balanced on the edge of the window seat, angry that when she least expected it, she’d struggle to speak and be tossed into a panic, ever-fearful that once again she’d be trapped in a world she could only watch pass her by. Tamping down the ever-present panic, Julia tried to banish the memories of waking to find she had lost the ability to speak.
* * *
Back at the truck, Chad tugged on the latch, opened the back door of the shipping container, and surveyed the contents. Surprised that Julia had brought so little, he shrugged and glanced to Bobby.
The slender man pushed up his glasses and leaned on the bumper of the truck. “She’s a looker, ain’t she? Holy smokes. And she has done some work on that house, I’ll tell you what.” His brow creased as he looked into the container. “She travels light though, don’t she?” he added with concern and confusion.
Nodding his head, Chad reached toward a stack of boxes and pulled it toward the edge of the truck. For some inexplicable reason, he was irritated. He definitely didn’t like Bobby talking about Julia’s looks, which was odd, because they talked about handsome women fairly often. He didn’t know Julia, but he got the feeling that she cherished her solitude.
The boxes were all the same size and type from a storage facility in New York, and each was marked with a black marker -- exactly what he would have expected from Julia. Shrugging off the contradicting thoughts, he tugged the boxes into his arms. “That’s no concern of ours, let’s get this unloaded.”
Bobby scrambled into the container to reach more boxes. “I’m just sayin’, she’s got a great big house and precious little stuff.”
Julia held open the screen door for Chad to pass through with the boxes. Apparently unable to resist the temptation to gab, he balanced them on the window seat and turned to look down the hall where Ringo was crying and scratching from behind the powder room door. “You don’t have to lock him up on our account. What’s his name?”
Julia raised her chin a notch. “He’s fine, this won’t take long. His name is Ringo.”
Chad wiped his forehead on his shoulder, a disarming grim spreading across his face. “You a Beatles fan?” He motioned toward the boom box on the floor.
She smiled weakly, a spark returning to her eyes. “How did you know?”
He laughed, soaking up the first scrap of friendliness she’d shown. “These boxes say clothes, where would you like me to put them?”
Julia pointed toward the den, and as soon as he turned away with the boxes, a long breath escaped her lips. Bobby followed with three more boxes and she pointed toward Chad’s back.
The men carried in four boxes of kitchen items and the small folding table. The mattress and box springs were placed on the den floor and soon, the guys stood back at the truck, closing the container. Chad dusted his hands on his jeans, pulled folded forms from his back pocket, and turned to Bobby. “I’ll be right back, go ahead and get in the truck.”
The little man tugged off his work gloves and squinted up at Chad through the smudges on his glasses. “I’ll come with you.”
Sighing inwardly, Chad headed back across the yard, his brow knit, wishing he could have a moment alone with Julia. He lifted his hand to knock on the screen, and he could see her standing in the emp
ty living room, looking forlorn. His knock sounded loud in the naked space, and she jumped, her hand coming to her chest. Ringo barked and scampered to the screen.
Julia turned toward the door and pushed open the screen, her expression once again composed. The little dog clambered around Chad’s boots, and he bent to pat him. “Hey Ringo, I gotta admit, the name fits you.”
Julia’s expression softened. Apparently, she was pleased to see the dog respond to him. Bobby, on the other hand, backed away to stand in the yard.
Chad straightened and Julia glanced up, her smile evaporating as she raised a brow in question as to his return.
“I wanted to leave a copy of the paperwork with you.”
She nodded and he handed her the forms. She seemed contented enough now, he thought, but for some odd reason, he had the desire to take her in his arms and reassure her that everything would be okay. He glanced back down at the dog pawing at his leg.
For all he knew, things weren’t okay for Julia. She certainly appeared to be very much alone, and she didn’t have much in the way of worldly goods. The only thing he’d seen in the house when they arrived, besides the plastic chairs, was a sleeping bag and a small suitcase in the den. Suddenly, he realized he was worrying about a client, not a friend. He flinched. Usually he didn’t concern himself with clients, because their personal lives were none of his business. He was all about the delivery, but maybe she needed a friend.
Bobby clomped back onto the porch, hesitant to get close to the playful dog. Chad looked up to meet Julia’s eye, “Well, I guess that’s all then.”
She smiled politely and took a step back to close the screen. “Wait—” Chad sputtered, shocked at his own outburst.
“Yes?” Julia paused and peered up at him in question.
“I was just wondering—if you needed somebody to show you around. We don’t have much here in town, but we have a grocery store and you probably saw the café. The boutique has furniture for good prices.”
Hometown Series Box Set Page 28