Carpentry and Cocktails: A Heartfelt Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 5)

by Smartypants Romance

  With a sigh, I backed out of Everett’s driveway, promising myself I’d go to my mother’s house and not, well, anywhere else. I would come back here when dinner with my family was over and not run off. I pinky swore to no one and laughed at my reflection in the review mirror.

  The narrow road wound up and up as I left Green Valley proper and drove into the foothills above town, toward home. My momma’s land was technically part of Green Valley, but it felt like a different world up here. The creepy quiet of the hills started to freak me out so I flipped on my CD player. I had Bluetooth, WIFI capabilities, and a satellite dish, but some places didn’t accommodate the needs of techy stuff that required signals. Since off the beaten path was my favorite place to be, oftentimes CDs were all I had to keep the quiet away. And it was quiet up here, except for the sound of the light breeze rustling through the tree branches and blowing the shrubs around outside. Miranda Lambert was much preferable to the eerie sound of the hills.

  I tried to decide if I had missed my mother or not. We weren’t ever that close. I’d been closer to my daddy and his side of the family before he’d gone and run off on us soon after my baby sister, Gracie, was born. Maybe I got the urge to wander from him. Hill family stories always said there would be a black sheep in every generation. Maybe I was the one in mine?

  With a turn off the main road, I headed into the misty sunlight. Squinting my eyes against the brightness, I drove down the narrow gravel-covered road. Purple signs decorated with white arrows proclaimed that I was indeed headed toward my mother’s place.

  I inhaled a huge breath as I passed beneath the scrolled-iron sign arched delicately over the road. My hands trembled on the steering wheel as I tried to regain my composure. Lavender Hills, my mother’s farm, was named for the rolling lavender fields on either side of the narrow road. She sure as heck didn’t name it after the Hill side of the family. She cut us off from all of them after Daddy left. Lined with white-washed farm fence, the road curved gently before widening into a large parking area with her farm stand on the left. Since it was Sunday, it was closed. Herbs, planted in neat rows, filled up the land on the right. I rolled to a stop and looked out the window. Green houses sat in the distance alongside the elderberry bushes she had trained to grow like trees. Straight ahead, on the private road, was the long, winding driveway that led to the house. You couldn’t see them from here, but beehives filled the rear of the property. Momma was a farmer, a beekeeper, and an herbalist. She sold honey, soaps, herbs, and various lavender products in the Lavender Hills Farm Stand as well as at the Green Valley Farmers’ Market in town, and on her online shop. Momma was an entrepreneur, always hustling to take care of us girls. As for my Daddy, he was a “good-for-nothing” Hill, according to Momma. When I was a little girl, he worked for the Payton Mill, but now he was just gone.

  Finished with my lollygagging, I drove on. The long meandering driveway led through green grass and abundant trees with patches full of wildflowers dotted here and there. Momma’s green thumb and desire to make everything pretty was obvious as I admired the beauty of this place. Memories crashed into my mind, while a sharp bolt of sorrow pierced my heart. I had missed this place. I missed my sisters and found myself wishing I’d never left. The beauty that filled my eyesight seemed to eclipse the bad memories that had kept me away for so long. Blinking back tears as the white clapboard farmhouse rose in the distance, I wondered how I would ever make them forgive me.

  Two little boys kicked a ball back and forth in the grass across the white picket fenced-in front yard. They stopped and stared as I drove slowly toward the huge detached garage with its steeply pitched roof line. I smiled and waved to them. They had to be Sadie’s boys. My heart swelled at the thought of meeting them. They looked adorable. Would they like me? Did they even know about me?

  “Flynn! Rider! Boys! Y’all come on inside and wash up for dinner. Your Auntie Willa is here.” Sadie’s head popped out the front door and she waved to me with a big smile. I pulled to a stop next to a white minivan, shaking my head at the change from the wild party girl Sadie used to be to the minivan-driving mother she was now. The boys waved, faces full of curious smiles, before gathering their ball and darting into the house.

  With a hop, my feet hit the gravel driveway. I stared at the house with a pounding heart, my shallow breath escaping to the beat in panting puffs.

  “Oh. It’s just you. Don’t expect a hug or nuthin’,” a snide voice called from the swing on the back porch. She sat sideways, glaring at me over the railing, blue eyes flashing fire, and upper lip curled in a snarl.

  “Gracie?” She was beautiful, grown up, and probably as tall as me.

  “Who else would it be? Did you forget I existed?” She got up and stomped off into the house, through the back door. Yikes, that couldn’t have gone worse. Gracie had been a tiny kindergartener when I’d run off. She had been such a sweet little thing, constantly after me to read her stories and play My Little Pony. Obviously, I’d broken her heart. There was no trace of that sweet girl left from what I could see. If her hostile, black-lined eyes didn’t already tell the story, her ripped jeans and red plaid Doc Marten’s would have done the trick. Sadie was a sullen teen, direct from central casting.

  “Never mind Gracie and her bad attitude. Are you done bein’ controlled by your man, little miss?” I whirled to find my mother standing behind me, eyebrows up with a faint smile drifting across her face. Her tall, slim figure was dressed in a bright yellow sundress with matching Birkenstocks on her feet. My eyes roved over her features. She had hardly changed at all. Her silvered blond hair was in a long, twisty braid over her shoulder and her face remained almost untouched by the years that had passed by.

  “Yes, ma’am. And he’s not my man anymore,” I replied. Promptly and with respect, just like Momma liked.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Come and give me a hug, darlin’. I’ve missed your pretty face ‘round here.” That’s it?

  “I missed you too,” I whispered as I returned her hug. Apprehension kept me tense in her arms, and my heart fluttered nervously in my chest. I didn’t know what to expect from her. None of us ever did; Momma was always unpredictable and moody. Her stress levels had determined the entire mood of our household, and that was even before Daddy left. Maybe that was why he left.

  My eyes burned as I looked over her shoulder. Tears threatened to spill over as my gaze wandered over the perfectly landscaped yard behind Momma’s back, then drifted over the huge old-fashioned farmhouse that was always a crisp, freshly-painted white. It was always clean here. Immaculate, even. Nothing was ever allowed to sully this place—no sticky little fingers, no dusty work boots lying around, and no toys to clutter up the yard. Everything around here looked the same. And in her arms, I felt the same—hesitant and longing for her to just love me as I was. Why was that so hard?

  Momma let me go, and both our heads turned as tires crunched through the gravel driveway. A shiny, white BMW pulled to a stop and Clara got out with a big smile. “Hey, y’all.” She wrapped me in her arms. “I’m so glad you came,” she whispered.

  “Make sure you show Willa your new car, Clara,” Momma sniped. “Waste of dang money…” was muttered under her breath.

  “Everything will be okay,” Clara murmured before letting me go. “I like nice things and I work hard, Momma. There is nothing wrong with that. Let’s go inside. I could use some Flynn and Rider hugs. You could too, Willa. Those boys are good for lifting the spirits up around here.” She grabbed her purse from the front seat, took my hand and tugged me toward the house. Momma followed behind.

  “We’re in the dining room, y’all,” Sadie called after the heavy screen door slammed shut behind us. Clara kept hold of my hand and pulled me along. I wasn’t planning on running off, not yet anyway, but the way she held on to me made me feel good. It was the welcome I didn’t completely feel from Momma. My mother’s affection came with strings attached. We’d all felt them as we grew up, tugging us around, leading us in t
he directions she wanted us to go.

  My flip flops slapped across the wide wooden planks of the floor. Lemon floor wax and the scent of fresh cut lavender filled my nostrils as we crossed through the spacious living room toward the closed double pocket doors of the formal dining room.

  “Can we meet her now? Will she have presents for us?” I heard tiny voices coming from the dining room. Shit! I should have brought presents.

  “Oh!” Clara let my hand drop and pulled the huge—Louis Vuitton?—purse from her shoulder to rummage around in it. She pulled out two small gift bags and passed them to me with a wink.

  “Oh sure, you can buy their affection Willa. Just like Clara does. Never mind that the very roof over their heads comes from me since their no-good daddy up and left.” Momma stomped around us to enter the kitchen off to the right of the stairs.

  “Ignore her. You know I always do.” Clara rolled her eyes, then flipped the bird to Momma’s back. That gesture snapped me back to the past. Clara would always hug my neck and smuggle cookies in her pockets whenever I was stuck in the time-out spot underneath the stairs. She taught me to flip the bird to Momma’s back instead of cry over her words. It was a lesson I’d never fully learned since the tears came no matter how hard I tried to be defiant instead of heartbroken.

  I peeked inside the bags. “Clara, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “Those two boys are spoiled by their Auntie Clara. I’ve set a precedent.” She pulled two more gift bags out of her purse for herself to give. Her eyes twinkled as her grin turned sideways. “Now we’re both prepared. And girl, don’t ever cry over presents that aren’t even for you.” She smacked my arm. “Buck up, Butterbean. This is just the beginning of what should be a long, largely unpleasant evening.”

  My head bobbed up and down in a nervous nod and I clutched the bags to my chest. “Please tell me it’s pot roast, at least.”

  “Is it Sunday? Nothing ever changes around here. You’ll see.”

  “Oh, man.” My feet stuttered to a stop as I considered heading for the hills. As if she had a sixth sense, Sadie slid the dining room doors aside, grabbed my arms and walked backward as she pulled me inside, thwarting my almost-mad dash out the front door.

  “Boys, this is your Auntie Willa.” She beamed at me, pride shining in her eyes, then stepped aside with a flourish to reveal her adorable sons standing behind her. All blond hair, mischievous blue eyes, and freckled faces. I couldn’t help but grin at them.

  “I’m Flynn. I’m in second grade.” He held his hand out in a grown-up gesture of greeting. I shook it, he tilted his head to his brother. “This is Rider. He’s in second grade too.” He lowered his voice. “We’re identical twins, but I feel compelled to add that our intellect is vastly different. I’m studying astrophysics—”

  Rider pushed past and took my hand, guiding me through a complicated secret handshake that involved a high five and a hand swipe through our hair. “Yeah, astrophysics—Flynn wants to be a fleet commander. You know, from Star Trek?”

  “No, I do not. I want to be an astronaut for NASA,” Flynn protested indignantly.

  “He totally does,” Rider whispered as an aside. The aside paired with the eye roll reminded me so much of Sadie that I almost burst into tears. Instead I handed him his gift bag.

  He pulled out the small toy version of an X-wing starfighter from Star Wars. A smile crossed my face as I thought of Everett. “Sweet, Auntie Willa! I don’t have this one. Thank you.” He rushed forward to hug me around my hips. My heart rapidly turned to mush in my chest as I hugged him back. Clara nudged me with a wink.

  “You’re welcome. Here you go, Flynn.” He took his gift with a small smile.

  “Whatever. Well, I wish I could stay but I have to go to work.” With a shove of her chair and a glare aimed my way, Gracie stood up. Her eyes were shiny; was she about to cry? I started to take a step toward her, but her glare froze me in my tracks.

  “But dinner hasn’t even started.” Sadie smiled nervously at me then turned to Gracie to hiss, “You promised, Gracie.”

  Collectively we turned to the kitchen archway as Momma entered with a huge platter full of pot roast and veggies. “Run and grab the mashed potatoes, Clara. Sit down, Gracie, you aren’t going anywhere.” Clara darted around Momma and into the kitchen while Gracie plopped sullenly back into her chair.

  “I’ll stay for a few minutes,” Gracie said to her plate.

  “It’s not like you have a real job, sugar pie. You won’t get fired,” Momma said as she placed the platter down and took her seat.

  “What do you do, Gracie?” I asked. She rolled her eyes then stared at the wall behind my head in answer.

  Clara entered with the mashed potatoes and an explanation for Gracie. “You remember the old Pizza Hut in town?” I nodded. “Well, they still don’t deliver. Gracie sits down there in her car, people text her what they want, she gets a table, orders, has them box it up, and then she delivers it. Never underestimate what people will pay when they have the munchies.” I grinned at Gracie, impressed with her ingenuity. I also contemplated taking her place at the Pizza Hut while she was at school.

  “Gracie May, I don’t know why you waste your time doing that when you could work for me part-time after school,” Momma complained.

  “I make more money delivering pizzas, Momma. I make more than Sadie does working for you.” She plunked a pile of mashed potatoes on her plate and avoided everyone’s eyes.

  “Hey!” Sadie protested. “Really?”

  Gracie looked up. “Yeah, but money won’t be a problem for you anymore. Ain’t you going to work for Bill Monroe next week?” she replied with a shit-eating grin.

  “What?” Momma’s hands hit the table. Clara gulped her glass of wine with big eyes and I turned my head back and forth between all of them, so I wouldn’t miss anything. Clara was right; some things never changed. Hill family dinnertime drama was one of them.

  “Gracie!” Sadie exclaimed.

  “I gotta go to work.” Gracie snagged a dinner roll out of the basket then ran for the door. The bomb was dropped, the detonation a success, and her escape plan was brilliant. I aimed my grin at my lap so no one would see. She reminded me of myself of that age.

  “Explain yourself, missy.” Momma’s angry eyes shifted to Sadie who heaved out a huge sigh.

  “Boys, go on in the living room with your plates and turn on the TV, and make it as loud as you want it. Grandma and Mommy have to talk.” Flynn hesitated and looked concerned, but Rider shoved him toward the door with a shake of his head, grabbed their plates and then took off, returning to close the pocket doors. Those poor boys. Meanwhile, I could see Sadie bracing herself for a fight.

  “You’re going to work for Bill Monroe instead of your own mother. The woman who took you in after your useless, no-good husband up and left you? Bill Monroe has a reputation for being a hard taskmaster. Do you really think he will put up with your flighty nature? And what about Barrett Monroe? I know you had a crush on him back in high school. He knew better back then to get involved with the likes of you, and he’ll know better now too. Don’t think you can weasel your way into his bed and into that big house of his in town. Do you think any man wants to deal with another man’s castoffs? News flash, Sadie—they do not. You’re best off staying put.”

  Sadie sucked in a huge breath as tears filled her eyes. “I don’t care if Bill Monroe is a hard-ass or a grouch or a complete bastard. He can be whatever he wants because he is going to pay me enough to live on. And furthermore, I still live here because you pay me minimum wage, Momma. You can’t get mad that I’m quitting to work somewhere else!” Sadie shouted. “You’re bossy and mean and you won’t pay anyone enough to live. You like having people under your thumb so you can be in control, don’t you? I’ll put up with Bill or Barrett Monroe or anyone else’s shit, since they’re paying me what I’m worth. I went to design school and that ain’t nothing! I can afford to support my boys on my own with what they’ll
pay me.” Tears filled her eyes as she shoved her chair back and stood up. “I can’t believe you sometimes. You wonder why everyone leaves. This. This shit is why. Is it so hard to just be nice? To have some sympathy? To be proud of me for once? Call me, Clara. I’m so sorry, Willa.” She returned Clara’s The Hunger Games District Eleven salute then stormed out of the dining room. I heard her feet stomp up the stairs followed by the slam of the door, the echo of which was right above my head—she was in her old bedroom. Déjà vu.

  “And now she’ll expect me to get the boys to bed. Unbelievable! I raised you girls to depend on no man. And look at all of you—dumped, broken, and used up—every single one of you. Nothing but disappointments, the lot of you.” Momma shook her head as she filled a plate and passed it to Clara.

  Clara silently took the plate, shut her eyes, and held my hand. We knew what was coming. I was always after Sadie.

  “And as for you, Willa. Is your divorce final? Or did you run away from him without a word too? Don’t expect anyone in this town to welcome an irresponsible flight risk like you back with open arms. I cannot believe Genie hired you after the damage you’ve done to this family and our reputation in town. Sadie might have been an idiot to marry the man she chose, but at least she was of proper age. You’ve embarrassed us all with your sordid ways, young lady. Like I’ve always said, that IQ you were blessed with was wasted on you. Your choices will always be foolhardy and reckless.”