“I wish I could, but you know I’m trying to finish up designing that new children’s line for my shop. I’ve promised buyers it will be ready for a show by July. If I don’t stay on schedule, I’ll never get finished. Tomorrow?” Lily asked.
Tessa slumped a little more in her chair. Her eyes wandered to the wall map again. “Sure. Tomorrow’s fine.” Her cell phone rang, and she grabbed it from the coffee table.
“Your mama?” Lily asked.
Tessa rolled her eyes and groaned. “No, it’s Marty.”
“Marty the meat guy?”
“Most people call him a butcher,” Tessa said, silencing the phone and dropping it on the couch. She walked back to the kitchen and sat before propping her elbows on the table and covering her face with her hands.
“I thought you didn’t want to go out with him after the group date disappointment,” Lily said.
“I don’t. Not really.” Tessa dropped her hands and shrugged. “He’s not that bad.”
Lily chuckled. “Based on your last description of him, I’d say smelling like raw hamburger meat all the time is pretty bad.”
“Sometimes I get lonely. I don’t want to sit at home by myself every night,” Tessa whined.
“Enjoy being alone while you can,” Lily said, blowing across the top of her coffee. “I never have a minute to myself anymore.”
“Being alone and being lonely aren’t the same, Lily,” Tessa said. “You probably don’t even remember what it feels like to be lonely.” She felt the beginnings of tears, so she cleared her throat and glanced away. What did Lily know about being lonely? She had a warm house to go home to after work, a husband who loved her, and a daughter who wanted to be just like her. Self-pity crept in like fog, circling the kitchen, swirling around Tessa’s kitchen chair, climbing until it settled over her like a miserable mist, sinking her lower into the chair.
After a few seconds of silence, Lily asked, “What did your mama say about the buyer and your condo?”
Glad for the change of subject, Tessa exhaled and answered, “She said I should seriously consider it.” When Lily looked at her with raised eyebrows, Tessa added, “Actually she said I’d be a fool not to take the offer.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. The thought of giving up her condo—her home—left her feeling unbalanced. She drank more tea and toyed with the corner of the recipe card.
“I know this sucks right now, but you’re a real estate agent,” Lily said. “You know better than anyone else how to find the perfect place.”
Tessa blinked at Lily. A breeze blew through the window, bringing with it the scent of lavender. “Why haven’t I thought of that?”
“Because you’re depressed and you just lost your first home. But it was a condo, and I know you loved it, but it wasn’t your forever place.” Lily paused only long enough to drink more coffee. “Fortunately for you, some crazy guy wants to buy the whole place from y’all at a more-than-decent price, and you can put that money toward something new. Think of it as an adventure, and you’re the best person to lead this one. You have all the information right in your office. I bet there are at least a dozen places you could start looking at right away.”
The tightness in Tessa’s chest loosened. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m focusing on the crappy part of this situation.”
“In your defense, this situation is exceptionally crappy, but we can turn this around, make this a new opportunity.” Lily glanced at the clock on the wall. “And I need to get going.” She gulped down the rest of her coffee and placed the mug in the sink. “Don’t mope around all day, okay? It’s going to work out.”
“You sound like Mama,” Tessa said. “I don’t see why everyone won’t let me feel sorry for myself.” She allowed a small smile to ghost across her lips.
Lily looked at an invisible watch on her arm and grinned. “You have exactly ten minutes to throw yourself the best pity party ever. Then, you go to the office, check in, and see what’s available for sale. I bet there’s something that’ll catch your eye.”
Tessa stood. “Thanks, Lily. I’d be lost without you.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Lily said, winking at Tessa. She grabbed her purse and waved as she left.
Tessa picked up her notebook from the coffee table and flipped to the question, Should I sell my home? Beside the number two, she wrote, Mama: Yes. Beside the number three, she wrote, Lily: Yes. She needed exactly two more people to ask before she could feel settled on the right answer. She closed the notebook.
Tessa walked back into the kitchen and dug through the containers of food Harry and Cecilia had given her. She pulled out black beans, homemade salsa, diced peppers, and two eggs. Scrambled eggs were one of the only dishes Tessa could cook without destroying, burning, or making herself or someone else sick. She cooked the eggs and peppers together and plopped them onto a plate along with the beans and salsa. Then she grabbed an open bag of tortilla chips she’d found in one of the cabinets in her condo. She popped one into her mouth and chewed on the stale chip before shrugging and dumping a few handfuls onto the plate. Then she sat down at the kitchen table, eating her deconstructed breakfast burrito and drinking mint tea, and tried to feel excited about the prospect of looking for a new home.
6
Home Fries
After finishing her early lunch, Tessa walked to her office. She sat on the edge of her desk and flipped through the mail, stopping when she held a large brown envelope sent from Trudy Steele. Tessa ripped open the end of the envelope and tilted it upside down. A set of keys fell out onto her desk. Honeysuckle Hollow. A prickle of excitement skittered over her skin. She finished sorting the mail and making phone calls. By mid-afternoon, she was caught up with her office work, and she’d even printed out listings she might want to look at for herself. When she left the office, she first met with a client across town, and then afterward, she made the short drive to Honeysuckle Hollow.
Dogwood Lane was located in a section of Mystic Water situated at a higher elevation, so the flood waters had streamed down the streets toward the lower sections of town, leaving the historic neighborhood with nothing more than waterlogged grass and patches of muddy yards.
Tessa parked in front of the aging brick Victorian house. Weeds choked the front lawn. A sea of dandelions bobbed in the breeze, scattering their feathery seeds into the air like spring snowflakes. Irises knifed through the weeds, pushing purple and white buds above the wildness. Snaking vines had taken over the wraparound front porch. Tessa wove her way through the tall grass and weeds, and a cloud of grasshoppers leapt ahead of her as though they were personal escorts leading her toward the door.
She gripped the peeling wooden handrail for the front stairs, and it snapped outward beneath her weight, breaking away from its mountings. She lost her balance and nearly tumbled sideways off the stairs, but she fell against the front column, gripping it as though giving it an awkward bear hug while smashing her face against the wood. When she pushed away from the column, it groaned. She glanced at the roof sheltering the porch. Was there a chance it would collapse on her head? She brushed dirty white paint flecks from her cheek.
The porch boards creaked beneath her feet as she scurried for the front door. The windows lining the front of the house were grimy, caked with two years’ worth of neglect. One long board on the porch was completely rotten and had fallen halfway into the crawl space beneath the porch. Tessa noticed tiny animal prints in the dirt traveled up and down the rotted board. A critter was obviously using the board like a bridge from its lair to the world.
She pulled the keys from her pocket and shoved the one labeled front door into the antique lock. Electricity tingled through her fingers and up her arm as she turned the key in the lock, causing her breath to catch. Maybe the house was just as excited as she was. Tessa pushed open the door, finding herself in the two-story foyer. Filtered light streamed through the windows, which allowed her to see her way around well enough since the electricity wasn’t on
in the house. Directly in front of her was a beautifully crafted wooden staircase. Tessa stepped forward and touched the finial at the base of the staircase railing. No one constructed staircases like this one anymore. Tessa thought it was beautiful even though it was covered in an extraordinarily thick layer of dust and spiders had weaved gossamer tapestries through the spindles. A strong breeze swirled through the house, raced past Tessa, and went out the open front door as though the house was exhaling, thankful for a visitor.
To her right was a dining room with a tray ceiling and a bay window. A long table had been covered with a motley assortment of sheets. To the left was a living room with another bay window and a large cast iron fireplace. Like the dining room, the furniture had been covered, but Tessa doubted the sheets protected anything from the elements. The house smelled musty and forgotten, like old cardboard boxes left in the attic for years.
Tessa touched the cast iron fireplace, marveling at the details and the tile work. She crouched in front of the fireplace and realized it was a pass-through. She could see a large room on the other side. The hearth was coated with ash and soot, and the remains of a half-burned log sat crumbling on the grate.
“Wow,” she said. “This is a great feature.”
She pulled out her notepad and pen to make notes but stopped writing when she heard a sound that reminded her of the noise made when Styrofoam cups are rubbed together. The racket grew steadily louder. Tessa stood and backed away from the fireplace. A whooshing noise barreled down the chimney, and a colony of bats exited through the pass-through fireplace. Tessa started screaming immediately. She flapped her arms and hands around her head as though her hair were on fire. The bats darted by her face. Furry wings brushed against her skin, which caused the pitch of her scream to ratchet up another octave.
Tessa’s flailing caused a hefty, rectangular book she hadn’t noticed before to fall from the mantel. It slapped the floor, sounding like a gunshot, and dust mushroomed around it. The bats flew straight out the open front door. Tessa screamed for another five seconds. She pressed her hands against her heart and dropped onto the nearest sheet-covered chair. A cloud of dust erupted around her, clinging to her hair and clothes.
When she could breathe normally, she dropped her notepad and pen into her purse. Then she texted Lily, I was attacked by killer bats. I almost died. Tessa stretched out of the chair and picked up the fallen book. She brushed her fingertips across the front cover, which revealed the words Guests of Honeysuckle Hollow embossed in silver letters against dark leather. Tessa returned to the chair and flipped through the pages, marveling at the entries that filled the entire book. She read the first few entries, which dated back more than ten years ago.
The first entry read: Honeysuckle Hollow was the answer to a desperate prayer. After my husband was laid off from the bubble gum factory in Ivy Ridge, our savings dwindled quickly, and we couldn’t afford our rent. Before long, we had nowhere to go. A chance visit to Dr. Hamilton saved us. We’ve called Honeysuckle Hollow our home (and what a fairy tale home) for the past month free of charge, and now with Philip back on his feet again with a great job in Mystic Water, we have become homeowners. This house was a godsend.
The second guest’s handwriting looped across the page in delicate, tightly knit letters: While traveling south, our youngest son became extremely ill. We were forced to stop in Mystic Water and seek help. Dr. Hamilton was on call at the hospital, and it seems we saw him just in the nick of time. Timmy was so ill that he required hospitalization for two weeks. Rather than pay for a hotel in the nearest town, Dr. Hamilton offered Honeysuckle Hollow to us for no cost. We couldn’t believe the generosity. Once Timmy was well enough to leave the hospital, we stayed one more week in Honeysuckle Hollow before returning home. This magic house was such a blessing during our time of need.
Tessa glanced around the room. She had known that Dr. Hamilton rented the place for parties and that an assortment of people had used the house for temporary stays, but she hadn’t known that Honeysuckle Hollow had been a haven for those who were down on their luck and out of options. She pulled in a breath deep enough to expand her chest.
“You deserve to be beautiful again,” Tessa said to the house. She closed the book and wedged it into her purse.
She hesitated before deciding if she should explore the house any further. What if there were bigger creatures making Honeysuckle Hollow their home? Maybe she should call the exterminator first. But her curiosity had her rising from the chair.
Tessa brushed herself off and tiptoed out of the living room and up a short hallway beside the staircase. She walked into the large, expansive room she had seen through the fireplace opening. This family room opened into the breakfast nook and a spacious kitchen with an island. The island had clearly been added many years after the kitchen was created because the cabinetry didn’t match at all. The island had been tiled in what was once a bright-blue Spanish tile, although the colors were muted beneath the dirt and, unfortunately, beneath a few nights’ worth of graffiti.
French doors leading from the breakfast nook opened into the backyard, but one door had been busted off its hinges, and every pane of glass in the other door had shattered. Glass littered the floor and crunched beneath Tessa’s flats. The appliances were missing, and from the looks of the deep grooves in the hardwood floors, they had been dragged out of the kitchen and through the French doors. The thieves, or perhaps rogue teenage artists, had spray painted extra-large letters and words that made no sense to Tessa. She tilted her head to try and decipher a red and yellow drawing that stretched from one kitchen wall to the high ceiling.
“Such a shame,” she said as she passed through the kitchen.
Clusters of mold spotted the window casings, and one window was partially open, allowing wild honeysuckle vines with creamy-yellow and bright pink blooms to reach inside and tangle around a chair at the covered kitchen table. Their fragrant blooms waved to Tessa as she walked toward the back of the house.
Tessa found a full downstairs bathroom with a claw-foot tub covered by a filthy shower curtain draped over a circular ring that hung from the ceiling. Tessa grabbed the shower curtain in one hand and stood back as she yanked it open. A mangy calico cat cowered near the tub’s drain. Its eyes widened, and it hissed at Tessa. She yelled and raced out of the bathroom, straight through the kitchen, and into the backyard.
The enormous backyard was wilder than the front. Tessa stopped almost as suddenly as her feet hit the brick backyard patio, skidding to a halt and pitching forward. She glanced over her shoulder to see if the cat had chased her. Nothing stirred in the house. Her cell phone beeped, and she yelped.
Tessa pulled her cell phone out of her purse and read a text from Lily. Killer bats? Lily had typed. Stop eating Mrs. Borelli’s wacky weeds. Tessa texted in return, Do cats have rabies? She slid her phone into her back pocket and took in the complete chaos of the yard as her heart rate settled again.
A massive oak tree tossed deep shadows across half of the garden. Weeds mingled with plantings and created a jungle of brambles, thorns, and vibrant, blooming flowers. Pink hydrangea blooms stretched along the shaded areas of the yard. Red roses clustered and twisted into one corner. Honeysuckle vines spread across three-quarters of the fencing, creating a green, leafy wall around the perimeter.
A winding, geometrically tiled path disappeared into the overgrowth. Although the untamed plantings seemed to have reclaimed every available space, Tessa saw the curving river through the mess. She judged the safest route and high stepped through the yard, praying snakes had not made Honeysuckle Hollow their home too. Bats and cats were startling, but snakes elicited another level of freak-out.
Tessa propped her hands on her knees, leaned over, and peered into the murky water. Algae bloomed on every surface beneath the water, creating a green haze, and there appeared to be no water circulation. The pump wouldn’t have worked without electricity, so the river had been stagnant for at least two years. Now it was the pe
rfect breeding ground for mosquitos. Tessa felt a nip on her neck and slapped her hand against it. As she stood there, a fat, orange koi swam over and lifted its lips to the surface, asking for food.
“Well, hey there, fella,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re still alive. I don’t have any food for you. I suppose you’re sick of eating algae, huh? I’ll see what we can do about fixing the water pump. I bet swimming around in your own—in icky water isn’t pleasant.”
A bright red cardinal landed on a low branch of the oak tree and chirped at her. The spring wind picked up again and brought with it the sweet, spicy scent of cloves and an echoing sound of laughter. She glanced around the garden, but she was alone. Must be neighborhood kids, she thought, even though she wasn’t sure there were any neighborhood kids other than Lily’s two-year-old daughter, Rose.
Tessa turned and looked at the rear façade of Honeysuckle Hollow. The exterior brick of the house had survived the abandonment better than the paint and the wood, but those were easy to repair. Tessa glanced at the top story and decided she’d better take a quick look around the upstairs.
The staircase creaked like a pair of old man’s knees as Tessa ascended it. The upstairs smelled hot and sad like an old barn left to rot. There were four bedrooms and two full bathrooms upstairs, including the master and its en suite. At some point in the history of the house, someone had decided to lay carpet over the hardwood in the bedrooms. Now the carpets were dingy and stunk of mildew and urine. Tessa tried to breathe only through her mouth, but then she remembered that Lily had said that when people breathed through their mouths, it meant they were tasting the smells. Tessa gagged. Nobody wanted to taste what she smelled.
With a bit of imagination, Tessa could see how magical the master bedroom had been. With its high vaulted ceilings in the turret of the house, and a bay window stretching across one wall, the master could be a retreat. The middle window of the set had broken panes. Mold covered the carpet beneath the window, and Tessa knew she would find it damp. She backed out of the room and walked toward a pair of French doors that led to a covered balcony overlooking the backyard. Some of the boards were rotted and one was missing entirely.
Honeysuckle Hollow Page 5