Walnut Grove House

by Alexie Aaron

  “I’ve not been on hiatus. I’ve just had a lot of work to finish here along with the other job.”

  “Is PEEPs still paying you?”

  “Yes, just not enough to live on. I’ve been thinking of opening a furniture refinishing business.”

  “Where?”

  “Not here. Mia would kill me. I’ve been thinking about the possibility of buying the property overlooking the graveyard. The piece that abuts the state highway. It’s not good for much else.”

  “Who owns it now?” Jesse asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve asked Susan Braverman to look into it for me.”

  “Do you think Big Bear Lake can support a restoration business?”

  “Plenty of summer visitors, and if I built large enough, I could make cabinets for some of the new housing developments going up east of here.”

  “Well, maybe I should look again at Big Bear Lake as a possible place to settle down.”

  “Mia’s selling the peninsula house if you’re interested.”

  Jesse scratched the beard growth on his jaw. “Do you really want me in your backyard?”

  Cid looked at his friend oddly. “Why would I have a problem with you living in Big Bear Lake?”

  “My devastating looks. There wouldn’t be a filly around here looking your way.”

  Cid’s laughter started deep and bubbled up. “I assure you, aside from your delusions about your physical attributes, you would make a good addition to the community."

  “Let’s swing by there on the way out, and let me take a look at it,” Jesse said.

  “Will do.”

  ~

  Bridgeton Atwater stood outside Walnut Grove House. The wind was cold coming off the lake, but he didn’t seem to mind it. He was in his head, a place that was a fortress. There he could mentally generate any environment he wanted. His active imagination was his greatest attribute and also his curse. Atwater could entertain himself for hours upon hours which was a bonus when it came to the long waiting times between speeches and townhall appearances. The downside was that his imagination also fueled his paranoia, something that did not serve him well in his personal relationships.

  Kiki waited patiently for the man to acknowledge that she was there. Bridgeton was a handsome man in a Malibu Ken doll way, classic Mattel features that had Kiki fighting not to call the man Ken the first time she saw him. She cleared her voice again.

  Bridgeton turned around and looked at the Japanese woman and sighed, “What do you want now?” he asked loudly.

  Kiki bit back her urge to take his tone and make him eat it. “My team will be arriving within the hour. Is there anything else you wanted us to do that wasn’t on the original renovation plans?”

  “Get it done and get out in one piece.”

  “Forgive me for saying this,” Kiki prefaced. “But you know this house has a history of paranormal problems. Why on earth do you want to live here?”

  “I don’t,” Bridgeton admitted. “But to inherit the type of support I need from my great uncle, I have to take up residence here.”

  “If it’s to stay in the congressional district, you could, let’s say, live in the carriage house, build another home on the property, or buy one of the charming homes in town.”

  “Your job is to renovate, not provide counseling. Most of the work is near completion. Finish it,” he said and turned around to dismiss her.

  Kiki had wished she met the owner before signing the contract. She had dealt with a family lawyer, which wasn’t unusual in her occupation. The lawyer was a friendly soul who wouldn’t answer any personal questions, but he did deal with Kiki as one would expect you would deal with a contractor in this day and age.

  Bridgeton had picked up his phone and didn’t seem to care that his voice carried back to Kiki as she walked away.

  “Why on earth would you hire a woman?”

  Kiki closed her eyes and almost tripped over the paver that the early frost must have lifted upwards. She was happy her team had nothing to do with the landscaping. She almost turned around and told the man what he could do with his attitude, but the sound of arriving vehicles stopped her. She skirted around the side of the building and hurried towards the carriage house. She didn’t notice that Bridgeton’s shadow attached itself to hers, nor feel anything different as it moved and nestled inside her. All Kiki felt was the impatience to get this job done and get the hell away from Bridgeton Atwater.

  Carl got out and stretched his legs, watching Wayne who was backing his vehicle in. Sally, his foster sister, had already entered the building in search of her kitchen. Carl saw Kiki. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Carl said. “I’m disappointed that Midwestern living hasn’t eased the tension in your shoulders.”

  “It has. This place, however, has its challenges,” Kiki admitted. “I love Chicago.”

  “Not a city boy myself, but it doesn’t stop me from appreciating a good restaurant or a museum or two,” Carl said.

  “Carl, Charleston is a city,” Wayne said, extracting his duffle from the back of his truck.

  “Doesn’t feel like one,” Carl argued.

  “What doesn’t feel like one?” an alto-voiced female asked from beneath a stack of empty boxes.

  “Wayne, Kiki, this is my little sister Sally,” Gut introduced. “Charleston doesn’t feel like a city.”

  Sally dropped the boxes to reveal a tall, blue-eyed, curly-haired beauty. Her tanned skin from her mixed heritage was dotted with tiny freckles. Sally had her dark brown hair piled haphazardly on her head. She reached forward extending a strong hand.

  “You’re too young and pretty to be his sister,” Wayne accused.

  “Down, Walrus,” Kiki said. “Sally, it’s so good to finally meet you. I had my reservations on the kitchen when I saw it. I hope it isn’t too small.”

  “I can cook anywhere, Boss.”

  “Good, because the kitchen in the house is a royal mess. It’s going to be a challenge,” she told Wayne.

  “There are a lot of provisions already in the cupboards. Am I expected to use them up first?” Sally asked.

  “No, I think they were left by the previous cook. Although, if they fit into your recipes, then go for it,” Kiki advised. “Anyone hear from Scrub?”

  “He and Cid got off to a late start,” Wayne reported. “Something about checking out a house.”

  Gary drove in followed by Pete.

  “Here comes God’s gifts to plaster and tile,” Kiki said. “Also known as Holy Shit and What the Fuck.”

  “She means Gary and Pete,” Carl translated. “And you’re to stay away from Gary. He’s a dog.”

  “Carl, I’m a grown woman,” Sally warned.

  “He dated Kiki and her twin sister…”

  “Duly warned,” Sally said. “Gary, aka Holy Shit, is a dog.”

  Kiki was about to explain but decided that would wait. She needed to get her crew settled.

  ~

  “Who built the peninsula house?”

  “Mia designed it. I think there were local craftsmen involved, but they left when Restoration Realty went belly up.”

  “So no local contractors?”

  “Not the kind that do our level of work,” Cid said, making his turn. He had decided to drive since Jessie drove all the way up from New Orleans.

  “The garage is a bit small.”

  “It will get your truck out of the snow, but you’d have to lay some pavement to park your trailer.”

  “I wouldn’t need a trailer,” Jesse said, rubbing his face. “What if we went in together for the woodworking shop and I live in the peninsula home until I can afford to build my own house?”

  “You want to be partners?”

  “Maybe. Let’s toss this around while we’re on this job.”

  “There may be competition for the house.”

  “Who?”

  Mike Dupree.”

  “Why would he want to is
olate himself out in Big Bear Lake?”

  “Why would you?” Cid asked.

  “I hate cities, but I have to be near them to get work. The country is way too quiet. I like the culture of a three-bar town.”

  Cid laughed. “The place is pretty busy in the summer.”

  “Every place is,” Jesse acknowledged. “How’s Rand?”

  “Gone. She’s been offered a place at a very prestigious school on the east coast that is right up her alley. She asked me to go with her…”

  “And you declined.”

  “Yes.”

  “Rand’s no Ted.”

  Cid set his jaw. “Do you know how hard it is to find a friend like Ted?”

  “Yes. I’m not going to hassle you about your BFF. If Rand was the one, you wouldn’t have thought twice about moving.”

  “Thank you for your agony aunt advice.”

  “Not advice, observations. I’ve known you too long to not see that you’ve got a lot going for you in Big Bear Lake, and it’s not just Ted.”

  “PEEPs is there.”

  “PEEPs will have its run, but I think you’re there because you’ve found your home. It’s not just Ted. It may be all the Martins. Or that crazy axe-toting ghost.”

  “Or that I get up in the morning with a purpose that I’m appreciated for.”

  “No better place then,” Jesse said.

  “I haven’t seen Faye,” Cid said.

  “She’s riding in style in the back. She was pretty quiet on the way to your house.”

  “Everything alright?”

  “Not sure. I’m sure you’ll get a chance to connect. See what you pick up, and then we’ll discuss it.”

  “Will do.” Cid turned off the main road and drove carefully between the stone pillars. He took a left prior to the circle that would have brought them to the front door of the mansion. He slowed the truck. “Where do you think…” he stopped talking. There, carrying a crate of food, was a vision. “Wow.”

  “Damn, she’s pretty,” Jesse said, looking sideways at Cid. He decided then and there he wasn’t going to flirt with the woman. Cid was gobsmacked.

  Cid rolled down the window and pulled the truck alongside the woman of his dreams.

  “Is this Walnut Grove House?”

  “That’s what the sign said outside. I’ll get Carl,” she said and walked off.

  “Carl’s foster sister,” Jesse said amazed. “I expected her to be as old as Carl and not so neatly rounded off.”

  “Why is she here?”

  “She’s the cook. Her name is Sandy… no, Sally,” Jesse corrected.

  “Whoa.”

  “Are you okay?” Jesse asked.

  “I’m not really sure?” Cid said. “You better park the trailer. I’m in no shape.” Cid got out of the truck.

  Carl walked out of the carriage house. “It’s about time you cowboys showed up. I hear you’re too good to bunk with the likes of us.”

  “Jesse has an aversion to the smell of Walrus in the morning,” Cid joked.

  “And I thought you and Jesse finally admitted that you were gay for each other.”

  “Didn’t we do that in Chicago?” Cid questioned.

  Sally, who was several steps behind her foster brother, stopped abruptly. The handsome man with the soulful brown eyes was gay. “Well, that’s a cruel joke.”

  Carl and Cid turned around.

  “What’s a cruel joke?” Carl asked.

  “Nevermind.”

  “Sally, I’d like to introduce you to the best finishing carpenter on this side of the Atlantic. Cid Garrett.”

  Cid grasped Sally’s hand in his. “Sally…”

  “Sally Wright,” she furnished.

  “We have something in common,” Cid began.

  “What?”

  “I love to cook and you’re a chef. So, it’s food.”

  “Everyone eats,” Sally dismissed. “Besides, all you guys like food.”

  Cid wasn’t sure but he got the inkling he was being labeled, as what was yet to be determined.

  Jesse honked the horn.

  “Jesse wants to know where he should park the trailer,” Cid told Carl.

  “Why ask me?”

  “Dunno?” Cid said, still dizzy from meeting Sally.

  Kiki walked out. “I’m on it. Honestly, Clark, you and Scrub need a minder.” She passed them and proceeded to direct Jesse on where to park the trailer.

  “Clark? I thought… oh, nickname,” Sally realized.

  “She hasn’t given you one yet, I take it,” Cid said.

  “She better not,” Sally said. “I was named for Charlie Brown’s sister Sally, which was my dad’s favorite comic strip. I’ll never answer to anything else.”

  “Kiki means no harm,” Carl said.

  “Yours is complimentary, Gut.” Cid patted Gut in the six-pack. I’m a bumbling fool.”

  “At least you’re not What the Fuck.”

  Cid laughed. “Now that’s a silver lining if I ever heard one. Where is Pete?”

  “Inside, filling half my refrigerator with beer,” Sally grumbled.

  “They won’t last long,” Cid assured her. “It’s an opening night type of thing.”

  “I have the pizzas. We just need to warm them up,” Cid said, walking towards the trailer.

  “That’s why you told me not to bother with supper,” Sally said to Carl.

  “Yes. We have a tradition on the first night of a renovation. Kind of a reacquainting. A mixer without the nuns insisting we dance,” Carl said.

  “Nuns… Why on earth did Mama insist we go to Catholic school? She was Baptist.”

  “Better education, and it was within walking distance,” Carl reminded her.

  Kiki walked back carrying a stack of pizzas. “Big Bear Lake – that’s where Cid’s from - has the best pizza. It’s the only fast food he allows the Martins to eat.”

  “Is he their cook?” Sally asked.

  “Basically,” Kiki said.

  “Then why did you hire me?”

  “Cid’s more valuable as a carpenter/ghost hunter than a cook,” Kiki said. “I can only stretch the lad so many ways or he’ll break.”

  “I heard the two of you almost traded blows up in Michigan,” Carl said.

  “From whom?” Kiki asked.

  “Wayne.”

  “He’s got a big mouth and an overactive imagination. Clark and I just had a difference in opinion.”

  “That you needed a medium to fix,” Wayne said, grabbing the pile of boxes. “You should have seen the old witch send the two of them to sit on the naughty step until they got over their snit.”

  “Walrus, you can be replaced with a Roto-Rooter man,” Kiki said stomping off.

  “She still loves me, don’t you worry, Sally. Kiki is a…”

  “Pain in the ass,” Jesse said walking up, extending his hand. “Jesse Holden, my job’s trusses, beams, foundations. Basically, the bones of the house.”

  “Sally. I’m the chef,” she said, releasing her hand. “How long have you been with Cid?”

  “Seems like hours,” Jesse said, thinking that it had been hours since they left Big Bear Lake. “We stopped and looked at a nice two-bedroom house on the lake. I’m thinking of settling down.”

  “Well, it’s about time,” Carl said.

  Cid arrived with a bowl of greens. “I know no one eats salad but Kiki and me… but I just couldn’t stop myself.”

  “I like salad. My favorite has feta or blue cheese and Michigan cherries in it,” Sally said.

  “Me too!” Cid said. “I serve mine with a vinaigrette, blue cheese or raspberry…”

  “But the damn thing has cherries in it?” Carl questioned.

  Cid and Sally just looked at him like they didn’t understand the problem.

  “You’re not supposed to mix the fruits…” Carl tried.

  Sally shook her head. “Did you not learn anyt
hing from Mama?”

  “Guess not,” Gut admitted.

  Faye watched the conversation with interest. So far, she noted several misunderstandings. She could have pointed them out, but she wasn’t getting paid for this. Her job was protecting the workers from the horrors she sensed inside that monstrous house.

  Chapter Three

  The crew nursed their hangovers with coffee and a filling breakfast in the large common room adjacent to the kitchen in the carriage house. Sally had sides sitting in warming pans and was making omelets to order. Kiki waited until the contractors had dined before unveiling her whiteboard.

  “Walnut Grove House has been in the Atwater family since its conception. The Atwaters were forward-thinking landowners and responsible for the Atwater brewing company. This house was built for the patriarch as a gift from his children. All of whom he had helped establish in non-competing businesses throughout the Midwest. Marriages shored up the fortunes, and they all came to Walnut Grove House at one time or another to pay homage to August Atwater. You’ll see AA carved into many of the rooms’ adornments.

  “For the past forty years, this house has been used sporadically. The congressman, Arnold Atwater, has spent most of his time in Washington or places more suited to his advancing arthritis. Because of this, wiring was never kept up to date, plumbing is sound but can’t keep up with modern dishwashers and the three large planned bathroom renovations. I don’t know how Walnut Grove House has escaped the National Register of Historical Places, but it’s to our advantage it has. It means we can renovate and bring things up to code without dealing with the delays of committees.”

  “I understand most of the work has been done,” Cid said.

  “Yes, there have been twelve supervising contractors…”

  “Twelve!” Walrus blurted out.

  “Yes, twelve contractors who have worked on this home in the last three years.”

  “That’s a lot of groups,” Jesse frowned. “It must be a hodgepodge of work inside.”

  “You would think so, but as you’ll see, when I give you your assignments, each group advanced the project as much as they could before being scared off the job.”