Honeysuckle Hollow

by Jennifer Moorman

  Lily’s shop was located next door to Scrambled, so Tessa walked around to the front of the buildings and headed toward the boutique. She assumed Lily must be swamped and that’s why she hadn’t returned her call. Tessa pushed open the door and saw Amanda, Lily’s sales assistant, folding shirts for a display table.

  “Hey, Tessa,” she said.

  “Hey, is Lily in the back?” Tessa made her way through the clothes racks to the back storage room.

  “Nuh uh,” Amanda said. “She’s gone to Wildehaven Beach with Jakob and Rose for a few days. She’ll be home Saturday, I think.”

  Tessa stopped walking and spun around to stare at Amanda. “No,” she breathed out. “She can’t be.”

  Amanda nodded. “She is. There’s a fancy boutique there that is thinking of carrying her clothes, as well as her new line of children’s clothes. You know how much money the tourist season brings in. I think her clothes would be perfect for that location.”

  Tessa rubbed her hands down her face. “I’d forgotten that was this week.”

  “She calls in every day, though. You want me to tell her something?”

  Tessa shook her head. “No, but thanks. See you later.”

  She pulled open the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Now what was she going to do? Part of her wanted to run to the Great Pumpkin, slide through the open car window like Bo Duke, and drive as fast as she could to Wildehaven Beach just to be near her two best friends. They’d know what to do. Instead, she was stuck in Mystic Water with no place to live and a sliver of sorrow creeping its way into her heart because of Honeysuckle Hollow. Why was she so attached to that stupid house? She kicked a stray leaf from the sidewalk.

  Tessa still had a set of keys to the apartment, so she walked up the stairs and slipped inside. She opened the fridge, pulled out the strawberry chamomile tea, and poured herself a glass. Then she sat on the couch and drank it all. Within minutes, her eyes drooped. She yawned, leaned her head against the couch cushions, and dozed.

  The sound of a door closing woke Tessa. She jerked into an upright position and sucked in a breath. Paul stood at the door looking at her. He grunted as he heaved a large plastic box sloshing full of water into the kitchen. Huck Finn shifted back and forth in the waves with leaves of lettuce floating on the top like boats.

  “You didn’t get far,” he said as he returned to the living room.

  She blinked. Had she been asleep? She glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped again.

  “It’s three in the afternoon?” She stood quickly, and her head spun so much that she dropped back onto the couch. Tessa held her head in her hands.

  “Slow down there, cowgirl,” Paul said. “You feeling okay?”

  “Yes…. No. I mean, I just sat down, and now it’s three. That’s impossible. It wasn’t even lunch yet.” Her eyes drifted to the empty glass. A few drops of tea glistened in the bottom. Paul had called the tea a sleeping potion the night before. She had dumped way too much chamomile into the mixture. Was that the cause of it? Tessa thought of Crazy Kate. The garden.

  When she glanced up, Paul was still watching her. She cleared her throat.

  “I guess…I was sleepy.”

  “Does this mean your room and board fell through?”

  Tessa groaned and stood. “Listen, I know this is awful. We don’t even know each other, and I’m stuck with no place to go except an apartment your parents have been waiting two years for you to be in—”

  “What do you mean, they’ve been waiting two years for me?”

  Tessa looked at him. “This place. They wanted you to visit. They filled it with furniture and knickknacks that they thought you’d like. The bookshelves are full of your writings,” she added, motioning toward the shelves. “And the map, well, that’s all you too.”

  Paul walked over to the map. The tendrils of the mint plant stretched even farther than she’d seen this morning; runners twined across Canada, as far north as a pin in Maine, and as far south as Brazil. Tessa walked over to stand beside him. Paul stared at the map in silence for so long that Tessa began to fidget.

  “It’s where you’ve been.”

  “I can see that. Why? I have a brother. They have another son, Eddie.”

  “But they know where Eddie is, don’t they?” Tessa asked, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand. One of the mint leaves wilted. “This is a way for them to be close to you.”

  Paul’s eyes narrowed on the red, heart-shaped pin stuck into Mystic Water. “What the hell is this?” He pulled the pin from the map.

  “Where your heart is?” Tessa said, feeling stupid.

  Paul’s irritation electrified the room like an approaching lightning storm.

  “They never give up.” His voice sounded petulant, and the mint shivered. He wrenched open a window in the living room and threw the red pin out the window.

  “Umm, that’s littering,” she mumbled.

  Paul turned to look at her with burning blue eyes that caused her skin to prickle. She held her breath.

  Tessa tucked her hair behind her ears and blinked. Then her curiosity overcame her. “Why are you angry with your parents for wanting to see you?”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m not angry. It’s just…what they want for my life isn’t what I want for my life.”

  “A home? Or a family?” Tessa wanted a home so badly that her chest ached just thinking about it. She wouldn’t have turned down the opportunity for a family either.

  He studied her, and then he closed his eyes briefly before exhaling. “I like my life.”

  Well, that’s not an answer, is it?

  A breeze crept through the window, dispersing Paul’s unhappiness as though it were fog. Tessa reached out and rubbed her fingers gently across the mint leaves.

  “I brought Huck Finn home,” he said finally.

  Tessa looked toward the koi nibbling on lettuce leaves. “I can see that.”

  “It’s temporary. Mom says she knows a couple who will probably take him because they have a landscaped yard with a koi pond.”

  Tessa nodded. Great. The fish is getting a home before me.

  Paul pointed toward the plant. “What’s with that mint?”

  “It’s from your mama’s garden. She says her plants are hardier than others—” Tessa’s mouth dried like herbs in the summer sun. She swallowed. “There’s something special about that garden,” she mumbled, looking at the glass sitting on the coffee table. Was Crazy Kate right? Did the land affect everything growing in its soil?

  In a daze, Tessa walked to the couch and sat on the edge, nearly dropping from the cushion onto the floor. The land. Two years before the bakery had stood in this spot. Tessa thought of the rusted box and the sparkling, gold sand contained within it given to Anna by her grandma. Tessa remembered the way the sand had singed her fingers when she grabbed handfuls and tossed it into a mixture of dough. Her heart throbbed. The fire. The smoke. The monster burning in the bakery. The enchanted sand lost to the flames, turning to ash like everything else around it.

  What if in Cecilia’s garden, buried beneath the ash and soot, and crumbling bricks lay remnants of glittering, golden sand, feeding the plants like fertilizer, creating mutations more powerful than the originals?

  Paul’s cell phone rang. “Hey, Dad…. I’m upstairs…. Sure, what time? … Give me half an hour.” He walked past her, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a jug of orange juice. “Dad says there’s an Italian place they want to take me to.” He took a cup from the cabinet.

  Tessa blinked at him, still imagining the twinkling sand filling the plants with magic. “Milo’s?”

  “How’d you know?”

  Tessa shrugged. “It’s their favorite. They go there a few times a week. If you stick around, they’ll probably take you more than once.”

  Paul pressed his lips together, creating a thin, downturned line. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow. I’m trying to get another assignment. In the Cook Islands.” He tilted the glass and d
rank the juice.

  Tessa stood and walked to the wall map. She pointed to a cluster of islands northeast of New Zealand. “That’s on the other side of the globe.” She thought of sun-soaked, white sand beaches; ocean breezes tangling her hair; and sipping fruity cocktails beneath a cabana with a roof made from palm fronds. “What’s the story this time?”

  “Supposedly a Spanish ship sunk in between the northern and southern islands. Local legend tells of a treasure hidden in one of the lagoons on Ma’uke.”

  She sighed. “Just the word lagoon makes me want to go there.”

  “You should.”

  “I don’t even have a passport.”

  Paul nearly dropped the empty glass he held. “How is that possible?”

  She shrugged. “Never got around to it.”

  “You’ve never wanted to leave this little town? I would suffocate.”

  Tessa narrowed her eyes. “First of all, you just got here. You don’t know anything about Mystic Water. It’s a great place to grow up—”

  Paul held up his hands in self-defense. “I don’t mean to disrespect the town. I only meant that I have to see the world. Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know what else is out there?”

  “Sometimes…but I like it here. It’s safe and predictable.” She walked to the window in the living room and peered down at the garden. At least it used to be safe and normal and predictable. “Is that why you decided to become a travel writer?”

  “One of the reasons. What are you doing tonight? You want to go to dinner with us?”

  Tessa shook her head. “Spend some time with your folks. I’ll go down and see what leftovers I can take off their hands. Try the lasagna at Milo’s. It’s amazing. I think I’ll settle for home fries and scrambled eggs.”

  What Tessa wanted to do was test a theory. She’d ask Cecilia and Harry if they had any home fries left over, and then she’d snip thyme from the garden. Crazy Kate had hinted that thyme had some connection with predicting the weather, and hadn’t Tessa been able to feel the fact that it wouldn’t rain the day everyone dressed in raincoats and carried umbrellas?

  “I know a wicked recipe for spicy scrambled eggs. I’ll write it down for you,” Paul said. He found a notepad in one of the kitchen drawers, and he scribbled directions onto a torn out page. “I’m assuming you’re not much of a cook based on the way you tried to poison me with pancakes, but this recipe is foolproof.”

  “I was not trying to poison you,” Tessa argued, but when she saw Paul’s lips twitch into a grin, she added, “but that’s not a bad idea.”

  “So, I’ll see you after dinner then?” Paul asked.

  Tessa exhaled. “Unless I find a home in the next couple of hours, I’m afraid so.”

  As soon as Paul left, Tessa pulled out her notepad and wrote the question, Should I stay in the apartment with Paul? Then she numbered to five down the left side of the page. Beside the number one she wrote, Would it be so bad? He’s kinda cute. And he’s leaving tomorrow. She added a frowny face beside the last sentence and then scratched it out. “Don’t be absurd, Tessa. He’s leaving.”

  She texted the same message to both Anna and Lily: Harry and Cecilia’s son, Paul, is in town for one more day and needs to stay in the apartment where I am staying. Should I stay with him? I need lodgings. I need help. I need advice. Anna was the first to respond, saying, I stayed in the apartment with Eli, and everything worked out just fine. Lily texted, Is he cute? Tessa responded, Definitely, which prompted Lily to text, Like serial killer cute or take him home to your mama cute? My vote is yes. You could use a decent fling. Tessa snorted. Who said Paul was decent? But he is, isn’t he?

  Tessa plucked the thyme leaves from the cuttings she’d taken from Cecilia’s garden and sprinkled them over her home fries, and then she shoved the bowl into the microwave. Using a heart-shaped magnet, she stuck Paul’s recipe for spicy scrambled eggs to the refrigerator. Jars of spices, along with a poorly cut onion and three diced jalapeños, littered the countertop. Tessa wiped at her watery eyes and yelped.

  “It burns,” she cried as she leaned over the kitchen sink and splashed cold water onto her face. When she leaned up, she caught her reflection in the window glass. The water plastered her hair to the side of her face, and her mascara ran down her cheeks, making her look like a weeping clown. Her shoulders sagged. “Tessa, you’re a mess.” She looked over at Huck Finn blinking at her in his plastic container. “Don’t judge me, Huck. It’s been a rough couple of days.”

  Less than ten minutes later, Tessa sat curled on the couch with a bowl of spicy scrambled eggs piled on top of her thyme-covered home fries. A quick assessment of her present state had her shaking her head and exhaling.

  “Cons,” she said aloud to herself. “I have no home, I’ve lost Honeysuckle Hollow to Fat Betty’s, and I’m testing a theory offered to me by the town weirdo. Oh, and I think I’m starting to believe that Cecilia’s garden might be magical.”

  Tessa speared a potato wedge and scooped eggs onto her fork. Her eyes widened as soon as the spices hit her tongue, but she swallowed, and the eggs set her throat on fire.

  “Water,” she croaked, reaching for her glass. She gulped half the water, but the burning didn’t subside. “Not bad if I want dragon breath.” She pushed the eggs to the side of the bowl and exposed the home fries. “Pros,” she continued. “I have a car, I have a job, and I’m sharing an apartment with a guy. Who’s cute. But mysterious.” She looked over at the wall map and pointed her fork at the mint plant as though it were part of the conversation. “You’re right. I should add that to the Cons list.”

  By the time Tessa finished her home fries, the burning in her throat and mouth had reduced to a mild tingling sensation. She reached for Guests of Honeysuckle Hollow on the coffee table, balanced the bowl on her thighs, and opened the book. As she stared at a page, the words became cloudy as though a fine mist shrouded the pages. She blinked a few times, but still the words looked smeared and half concealed. Tessa put down the book and rubbed her eyes. When she opened them, the whole room was swallowed in a haze, reminding Tessa of stepping out of a hot shower into lingering steam as thick as fog. Fog. The word pulsed in her mind like a strobe light.

  Her eyes darted to the bowl of cold, rubbery eggs. Flecks of thyme stuck to the porcelain interior. “Is this your fault?” she whispered to the leftover herb.

  The front door opened, and Tessa held her breath. The fog rushed from the room and out the door as though blown free by a strong burst of wind. Paul stepped inside and closed the door.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He dropped his keys onto the kitchen countertop.

  Tessa exhaled and glanced around the room. Had she imagined the fog? Were Paul’s spices hallucinogenic? Was she losing it?

  “For a normal town, you sure have weird weather,” he said. “First the flood, and now there’s a fog settling over everything. It’s thicker than anything I’ve ever seen, even on the moors of England.” He leaned over and unlaced his boots.

  Tessa swallowed. “Fog. It’s going to stick around for a while. At least a day,” she babbled and then pressed her lips together. What was she saying? The words came naturally to her, but they felt foreign on her lips, making her feel like a puppet being supplied with information.

  Paul raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that? Mom said she’d never seen this kind of fog before in town.”

  Tessa glanced at the bowl. The first explanation she thought—the potatoes and thyme told me—was sure to guarantee Paul would think she’d lost her mind. Instead, she shrugged and said, “Just a hunch.” She walked to the window and peered out into the darkness. Almost instantly, white mist curled across the windowpanes and pressed against the glass. Within seconds, the entire view was hidden, concealing Mystic Water in a shroud of vapor. The fog is protecting the town. But protecting the town from what? Tessa wondered.

  11

  Over Easy

  Tessa rolled over so she could shut
off the alarm ringing on the bedside table. She’d set it the night before to go off at 6:45 a.m. because she wanted to be at Honeysuckle Hollow before they tore it down. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why she wanted to see the house before the bulldozer drove through it, but she wondered if the house didn’t need as much comfort as she did. Nobody wanted to be alone at the end, maybe not even a dilapidated house.

  She flopped onto her back and noticed the bedroom shimmered in the filtered light. Tessa pushed herself up on her elbows and looked toward the window. She had never been lost in a snowstorm, but she imagined the view looked a lot like it did right now—opaque, white, and as thick as snowflakes in a blizzard. Fog.

  She climbed out of bed and walked to the window, pressing her hands against the glass. The sun hovered somewhere in the sky, blocked from sight by the thick fog. The morning light pushed itself through the mist and created sparkles out of water droplets. Tessa unlocked the window and lifted the sash. Misty fog climbed through the window like mint tendrils, pressing against the wall and spreading out across the floor like vaporous glitter. She closed the window, shutting out the fog, while watching the mist dissipate into the floorboards.

  After a quick shower, Tessa dressed as quietly as possible and then tiptoed through the living room. She glanced at Paul’s sleeping form and paused. He’d taken off his shirt and lay sprawled out on the couch in nothing but his boxers, having kicked off the quilt during the night. Fog pressed against the windows and cast a pearly glow onto every surface. Paul resembled an Italian statue carved from marble, and Tessa’s mouth twitched. Guilt had her turning her gaze away. It wasn’t proper to stare at a half-naked stranger, but her eyes darted to him once more before she reached the door.

  “I feel so used,” Paul said in a husky morning voice. “Leaving without a goodbye?”

  Tessa flinched and clutched the doorknob in her palm. She glanced over her shoulder. “I didn’t want to wake you.”