Honeysuckle Hollow

by Jennifer Moorman

  For a few moments, Tessa’s heart thumped wildly in the cage of her chest. She pressed one hand against her breastbone. That land is special. You, of all people, should know that. Tell me what happened to you tonight after you drank the tea. Crazy Kate’s voice swelled in Tessa’s head like a buzzing bee making laps around her ears. She shook her head, and the voice faded. Tessa placed the mug on a shelf beside her and tucked her hair behind her ears again.

  Paul sprinkled two different kinds of cheese onto the omelet, followed by mushrooms, tomatoes, and green onions. Harry slid the golden, crispy hash browns from a large spatula onto a plate. Then he reached for Paul’s omelet and folded it as he shimmied it from the pan onto the plate.

  “I’ll take over,” Harry said. “You need to meet one of our number one customers.”

  Paul turned around as he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. His blue shirt was the color of his eyes, and Tessa wondered if he’d worn it on purpose, if he knew how heart stopping the effect was to women—to her. She inhaled deeply, and Paul stepped closer to her.

  Paul reached out his hand toward Tessa as Cecilia said, “This is my oldest son, Paul. He’s just flown in from Germany. He’s going to stay with us for a while.”

  Tessa slipped her hand into Paul’s. It was calloused and warm, and his grip was one notch away from painful.

  He cut his eyes at Cecilia. “For a couple of days,” Paul corrected.

  Cecilia waved her hands in the air dismissively. “We’ll see,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in years. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to see my son for more than a day.”

  “Mom—”

  Tessa felt the beginnings of an argument brewing, so she said, “Nice to see you again. Thank you for breakfast.”

  Cecilia slid two plates into the kitchen pass through, and Laney swooped by and grabbed them. Then she cocked her head at Tessa.

  “Again?” Cecilia asked.

  Tessa glanced from her to Paul, and Paul’s heavy sigh ruffled Tessa’s blouse. Tessa caught the scent of cloves. Harry returned to the kitchen and grabbed two empty plates. He sat them beside the griddle.

  “Here we go,” Paul said. He looked at Tessa, and his blue eyes darkened. “I left out a few sections of my return.”

  Tessa’s eyebrows rose on her forehead. “You mean the section that includes how I met you last night?”

  Cecilia fisted her hands on her hips, and Harry cracked two eggs onto the griddle. “What were you doing at the hotel last night?” Harry asked, looking over his shoulder at Tessa.

  “What hotel?” Tessa asked.

  “Didn’t you stay at a hotel?” Cecilia asked Paul.

  Tessa shook her head. “He stayed with me,” she said. But when Cecilia’s mouth dropped open and her brown eyes widened to the size of Oreos, Tessa blurted, “We didn’t sleep together.” Then she slapped a hand over her mouth and blushed so hard that the heat nearly burned the skin on her fingers.

  Paul leaned his head back and laughed. “Not for a lack of trying.”

  Tessa’s throat tightened. “What?” she squeaked. “I would never—”

  “I’m kidding,” Paul said. “Relax a bit or you’re going to overheat.” He reached for a plastic menu and fanned Tessa from where he stood. Tessa snatched the menu from his hands and glared at him.

  Then he looked at Cecilia. “It was late. I had no idea there was someone staying in the apartment. But Tessa was there. We had a nice chat, she gave me a sleeping potion, and I fell asleep in less than fifteen minutes. I didn’t call you to tell you I was in town because it was late, and I was exhausted. I wanted to surprise you this morning.”

  Cecilia looked at Tessa. “A sleeping potion?”

  Tessa shook her head. “I hardly think chamomile tea is a sleeping potion.” Although I did add three times more than the amount of chamomile that the recipe called for.

  Guilt rippled over Cecilia’s features. “I never would have guessed Paul would come to town. I’m sorry if it inconvenienced you. Paul, you’ll need to check into the hotel. I’ve already given the apartment to Tessa while she repairs her condo.”

  Paul frowned. “Mom, I stay in hotels everywhere I go. I don’t want to come here and stay in one too. I’ll stay with you and Dad.”

  “There’s not room,” Cecilia said. “You know we downsized when we moved here. We have only one bedroom. The hotel will be more comfortable.”

  Tessa cleared her throat. “Paul can stay at the apartment.”

  Paul’s blue eyes found hers, and he smirked. “Made an impression on you, huh?”

  Tessa chuckled. “I didn’t mean stay with me at the apartment. I’ll call Lily. I can stay at her place.”

  “Tessa, I don’t want to put you out,” Cecilia said. “You’ve only just moved in.”

  Tessa saw the conflict in Cecilia’s eyes. Having Paul upstairs from the diner would be the closest he’d been to them in years.

  “I don’t mind,” she said. “It’s no trouble at all.” I’ll just become a nomad myself, never having a home, never settling anywhere. Tessa forced a smile.

  “That’s sweet of you, Tessa,” Harry said. “It’ll be nice to have Paul using the space we made for him.”

  “I don’t mind sharing the apartment,” Paul said playfully.

  “It has one bedroom,” Tessa argued.

  “And your point?”

  Tessa blushed again and tucked her hair behind her ears. Paul laughed at her unease. Even though she knew he was teasing her, part of her thrilled at the idea of spending more time with him.

  “It was nice to meet you, again. I better get going. Got a busy day,” she said. “I’ll stop by after work and clear out my things.”

  Cecilia pulled Tessa into another hug. “Thank you. I’ll get Harry to whip you up a nice batch of oatmeal pancakes with rainbow sprinkles.”

  Tessa waved goodbye and weaved her way through the crowded diner. When she stepped outside, the sunshine beamed across her face, and she was finally able to inhale a full breath. She hadn’t really settled in to the apartment. It would be easy to gather her belongings and stay with Lily.

  She climbed into the Great Pumpkin and reached for the papers she’d dropped off before going into the diner. Then she cranked the engine and turned on the radio. She flipped through the listings and her to-do list before grabbing the notepad with Mrs. Steele’s number scrawled on it. A knock at her passenger-side window startled her.

  Paul gazed at her through the glass. He made the motion for her to roll down the window, so she obliged him. Her stomach flip-flopped at the sight of him leaning through her window and resting his tanned arms on the door. She had a flashback of high school when most guys had snickered at the Great Pumpkin and she’d wanted to melt into the driver’s seat.

  “I’ve never seen a car quite this orange,” he said.

  “Paul, meet the Great Pumpkin. Great Pumpkin, meet Paul. My real car drowned in the flood. Totaled. Kaput.”

  “So, you stole your grandpa’s car?”

  Tessa snorted. “Hardly. My parents have been housing it for the past forty years. Probably for moments of desperation like this. This baby took me to high school and back.” She patted the steering wheel.

  “And destroyed all possibilities of coolness?” he teased.

  Tessa slumped lower in her seat. “Something like that.” When he continued smiling at her through the window, she asked, “Did you need me?”

  “What are you doing today?”

  “Working.”

  “And what does Ms. Tessa do for work?”

  “Real estate.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “And what’s on today’s agenda?”

  Is he serious? “I have a few listings to look at, and I’m working on acquiring approval to rehab an historical home.”

  His blue eyes widened. “Now that sounds interesting,” he said. “I know a thing or two about architecture. Perhaps I should come along.”

  “With me? To work?”


  “I think it’s a great idea. I’ve got some time to kill while Mom and Dad work,” he said as he opened the car door and sat down. He grinned at her and buckled his seat belt.

  “Why does this suddenly feel like Bring Your Kid to Work day?” she asked, and Paul laughed, filling the car with his intense energy, causing the volume on the radio to rise and the engine to rev.

  9

  Honeysuckle Jam

  On her drive around town, Tessa tried several times to drop Paul back at the diner. Each time he refused. It wasn’t as though she minded his company exactly. It was the fact that he was a complete distraction, albeit a handsome one.

  Paul scanned through radio songs like a man who didn’t have time to waste on any one genre for more than a minute. The rare moments when he found a song he loved, he blasted the tune so loudly that Tessa had to roll down the windows just to release the sound waves. On the corner of Poplar and Sycamore, every windowpane within twenty yards vibrated, and Mr. Morris shook his walking stick at their reckless music. When she reached out to turn down the volume before she died of embarrassment, Paul grabbed her hand.

  He shook his head and shouted over the music. “I love this song. It reminds me of high school.”

  “I don’t think they need to be reminded three counties over,” she shouted in return.

  Paul laughed, released her hand, and turned down the volume. “Listening to music isn’t illegal within city limits,” he said, smirking at her. “I like to feel the baseline in my body.” He thumped his fist against his chest for emphasis.

  “How are you not deaf, Tarzan?”

  “What?” he asked, and then he winked at her and laughed.

  Tessa shook her head. She wasn’t used to having someone listen in on every conversation she had and then offer his opinions afterward. And Paul definitely had opinions about everything. He scratched off every listing on her short list of choices for a new residence. Each one had a fatal flaw that he could not overlook. She reminded him multiple times that he would not be living in any of them, but still he made her feel as though his opinion should be heeded.

  Tessa parked in front of the cleaners and searched through her purse for the ticket. “I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything.” She eyed him warily.

  Paul laughed. “Like what? Use the Great Pumpkin as a getaway car? You could probably outrun this behemoth on foot. You’d catch me before I could round the corner.”

  Tessa frowned. “Don’t disrespect the Pumpkin. It’s all I have.”

  “I’m kidding. This car is a classic. Don’t take everything I say so seriously. And I promise, I’ll sit here like a good little boy.”

  Tessa hurried inside the cleaners, casting glances at Paul over her shoulder. She doubted he’d ever been a good little boy. There was entirely too much mischief in his blue eyes. She carried her plastic-wrapped clothes to the trunk. When she climbed back inside the car, her cell phone started ringing.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Ms. Andrews, this is Trudy Steele.”

  “Hey, Mrs. Steele. I was hoping you’d call. You got my message?”

  “I did—”

  “Great. I want to talk with you about why I think the renovations are necessary, and I have a contractor already lined up—”

  “Ms. Andrews, I have absolutely no desire to renovate that house. I’ve been talking with another local real estate agent, and he has found an investor who wants to purchase the land. The house is worthless to me, so it will be torn down.”

  “What? When? Who? But it’s an historic home—”

  “That doesn’t interest me. I no longer require your help,” Mrs. Steele said. “The demolition crew should already be there. Do you still have the keys? Not that it matters anymore. But you can toss them on the porch for all I care.”

  Tessa’s throat tightened. “Can I change your mind?”

  The line disconnected, and Tessa pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. A black hole opened in her stomach, and she felt herself falling.

  Paul touched her arm. “You okay?”

  She glanced at him, wide-eyed and short of breath, and his blue eyes watched her. “The house. She contacted another real estate agent the same time she called me. The other agent found an investor. They’ve made a deal already, and they’re going to tear down Honeysuckle Hollow.” Her voice hitched, and she stared straight ahead, blinking rapidly.

  “It’s just a house. Don’t let this get you so worked up—”

  “It’s not just a house! It’s helped hundreds of people! It needs to be saved!” she shrieked. Whoa, Tessa, get ahold of yourself. What is wrong with you? She inhaled two deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. You must think I’m crazy. Can we blame it on the lack of sleep and the fact that my entire life is falling apart?” She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel.

  “I haven’t known you long enough to verify your craziness yet. And your life isn’t completely unraveling. You have the Great Pumpkin and a dashing stranger in your car.”

  Tessa lifted her head and looked at him. “The latter probably validates my craziness. What kind of girl drives a stranger around in her car?”

  “An interesting one.” He smiled.

  Tessa almost smiled in return. “I need to go over there…see it one last time. Want me to drop you off at the diner?”

  “And miss seeing a place called Honeysuckle Hollow? Never. Drive on, Miss Daisy.”

  Tessa snorted. “If I’m Miss Daisy, shouldn’t you be driving me? Maybe you’re the crazy one.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  When Tessa pulled the Great Pumpkin onto Dogwood Lane, she saw a car and a double cab truck parked in front of Honeysuckle Hollow. A bulldozer sat on the back of a trailer across the street. Her palms sweated. She parked the car in front of a house a few doors down.

  Tessa wiped her hands on her pants. How could they bulldoze Honeysuckle Hollow? “What about the koi?” she asked aloud.

  “What?” Paul looked over at her.

  “There’s a backyard river behind the house. I saw a koi still alive in it the other day. Do you think they’ll just drive right over it?” A breeze blew through the car, bringing with it the scent of lavender.

  Paul looked at the house through the windshield and then he glanced at the backseat. “Got a container of any kind? This sounds like a rescue mission.”

  “Maybe the plastic covering the clothes? We could wrap it like the goldfish people win at the fair,” she said.

  “Thinking outside the box. I like that. Let’s grab the plastic and go meet these destroyers.”

  Paul climbed out of the car, and Tessa opened the trunk. Together they pulled off the plastic encasing her clothing, and Paul tucked it beneath his arm. They walked up the street.

  Three men stood outside the house. A man with a grizzly gray beard yelled into his cell phone while the other two stood around, kicking at weeds. The youngest of the men wore faded blue jeans with a rip in one knee. His fluorescent yellow shirt could have been used as a beacon to guide space aliens to earth. Tessa couldn’t look directly at it without feeling as though her retinas were burning. She recognized the third man because he was a real estate agent from the neighboring town and they had been on one lousy date.

  “Hi, Ralph,” Tessa said.

  “Tessa,” he said, smoothing his hand against his slicker-than-oil black hair, “I haven’t seen you in a while. What’re you doing here?”

  “Mrs. Steele has been working with both of us,” Tessa said, and she was slightly satisfied to see surprise flicker across his face. She pulled the keys for Honeysuckle Hollow from her purse. “I have the keys, and I’ve already given the house a thorough walkthrough.”

  “What for? She wants it torn down,” Ralph said. “The prospective investor wants to put a Fat Betty’s here.”

  Tessa gasped as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Dandelion seeds burst from their pods and rushed toward her. “You can’t
be serious.”

  “They make a lot of money,” Ralph said with a shrug. “It would generate a hefty sum for the investor.”

  “That’s horrible. A Fat Betty’s in an historic neighborhood? This house has been around for more than one hundred years, and it has a history that is worth preserving. Don’t you have any respect for history—”

  “Excuse me, but what’s a Fat Betty’s?” Paul asked.

  Tessa’s frown deepened. “It’s a heart attack in a paper bag. A greasy, disgusting place where your shoes stick to the linoleum—”

  “That generates a few hundred thousand dollars per store per year,” Ralph said.

  Tessa pointed at the house. “This home has been a haven for longer than you’ve been alive, Ralph. I can’t believe you’re encouraging the idea to tear it down.”

  “Nothing’s going to be torn down today,” the older man growled. “Damn bulldozer won’t even start, the company doesn’t have a spare machine this afternoon, and this greenhorn is barely old enough to drive it.”

  “Hey,” the younger man argued, “it was working when I left this morning.”

  The older man tossed his hands into the air in frustration, reminding Tessa of an angry gnome.

  “Take it back, and we’ll meet you here at eight a.m. sharp. And don’t bring back another piece of junk with you,” he demanded. Then he stalked to his truck and drove off.

  The younger man shrugged and crossed the street to his truck. The diesel engine rumbled, and he drove down Dogwood Lane, dragging the yellow monster behind him. Don’t come back. Ralph cleared his throat, and Tessa turned to glare at him.

  “Listen, Tessa, I only do what my clients ask me to do.”

  “Somehow I think you only do what’s going to put more money in your pocket.”

  “Is this about the expensive bottle of wine I wouldn’t buy for dinner? I can’t believe you’re still mad about that. It was, when? Eight months ago? You know they always try to upsell dinner, which was already gonna put a dent in my wallet, I’ll have you know.”