Honeysuckle Hollow
Page 17
When she entered the living room, Paul held the map of Mystic Water in his hands. “Did you want to walk through town?” she asked.
Paul turned the map around so she could see it. “Nope. I want to go here.” He stabbed a large green area with his finger. “Why would we walk through town when you have a state park?” Paul refolded the map and dropped it on the coffee table.
Tessa bit her bottom lip. “I’m not much of an outdoorsy girl.”
Paul grinned. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Tessa frowned. “I just bought a run-down house. I think that qualifies as adventurous.”
He chuckled. “I guess I should have asked, where’s your sense?” Then he punched her lightly in the arm as though they were teammates. “Tess, I’m kidding. You look like you want to knock me out.”
She couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he was grinning at her like a kid and calling her Tess. “Okay, Borelli,” she said in mock irritation, “take me on an adventure.”
Tessa tried not to sound like Darth Vader as she hiked up another hill, but she failed. Breath wheezed in and out of her burning lungs while she retold Crazy Kate’s story about Honeysuckle Hollow, the Hamiltons, and the spear. Tessa felt sure that one more hill would have her bent double, sucking air like a bagpipe player. Thankfully, Paul stopped at the top and fisted his hands on his hips.
“Wow,” he said. “That’s quite a story. I think I need to rethink my article. Kate’s story will be an excellent addition to the town’s history and the history of the house. I think I can make the article about preserving history, which would include maintaining Southern historic homes, especially a home that has served as a place for people who were in need of a bit of hope.” He paused to look out over the evergreens thriving in the valley at the bottom of the ridge. “That’s the greenest valley I’ve seen in a long time. Feel like hiking down to the river?”
“Feel like calling the EMTs?”
Paul laughed. He pulled a bottle of water out of his backpack. “Here. Hydrate. I can’t have you passing out on me in the middle of nowhere. What will the town say? We can’t have your reputation sullied.”
Tessa gulped the water and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “If I had known you wanted to hike all over this place, I would have suggested we drive to the top of the park and leave the car there instead of at the lower entrance. When you said walk, I thought you meant the kiddie trail.”
Paul poked out his chest. “Do I look like the kind of man who hikes the kiddie trail?”
No, indeed.
He pointed off to the west. “What’s up that way?”
Tessa opened the trail map. “Lover’s Pointe.”
Paul grinned. “We definitely need to check that out.”
Tessa looked up at him. “We do?”
“Again, do I look like the kind of man who would pass up an opportunity to see Lover’s Pointe?”
Tessa’s skin flushed. “It used to be called Look-Off Pointe, but so many kids kept parking up there and—well, after a while, a new name stuck.”
Paul raised his eyebrows up and down a few times. “I bet it did.” He pointed toward a hill that rose toward the east. “And over there?”
Tessa hummed in her throat as she scanned the map. “Oh,” she said and looked up, “that’s Red River Hill. No one goes there.”
“Why?”
“It’s haunted. A Civil War battle was fought there. A lot of Confederates died. So many that they say the river ran red, which is why they call it Red River Hill.”
Paul shielded his eyes from the sun and stared at the hill. “This town is full of mysteries. So, Red River Hill is cursed, huh?”
“Being haunted and being cursed are not the same.”
“Slip of the tongue. And speaking of tongue, let’s go check out Lover’s Pointe.”
Tessa gaped at Paul, and the heat returned to her face. His laugh echoed through the valley and wrapped its happiness around Tessa when it returned.
While Paul took a shower, Tessa towel-dried her hair in the kitchen. She stared at her cell phone, knowing she should call Anna and Lily—and especially her mama—about Honeysuckle Hollow, but she was afraid they’d tell her it was a rotten idea. But what if they don’t? What if they’re excited for me? Still, she hesitated. I’ll call them later.
A breeze blew through the open living room window and disrupted papers on the coffee table. Tessa glanced up to see shimmery pink rays from the setting sun slanting across the floor. The mint rustled in the wind, and even from across the room, Tessa smelled the scent of its leaves and sighed. She looked at the wall map. The mint’s long tendrils had not stopped their pursuit of the globe. They now reached as far as Japan, curling around the silver pushpin there, and they looped around the pins in Sweden, Romania, and Egypt.
Paul walked out of the bedroom, fresh faced and clean shaven. He grabbed his laptop from the coffee table and looked at Tessa. “Mind if I go ahead and finish this article? I’d like to send it off before dinner.”
Tessa knew that as soon as Paul completed the story, he could leave. That’s what he’d said, after all. He was only there until his research was done. The idea of him leaving deflated her, and she felt pathetic. She’d known Paul three days, and already she’d become attached? Get a grip, Tessa.
“No, go ahead,” she said and waved her hand in the air. “I’ll just…” Wallow in self-pity. She mumbled, “I still have the house, though, and that’s something to be happy about.”
“What’s that?” Paul looked up from his typing.
“Nothing.” She cleared her throat. “Are you going to have dinner with your folks before you leave tonight?”
Paul frowned. “I’m not leaving tonight.” Then he narrowed his eyes and pointed at her. “Are you kicking me out? Is this because I drank the orange juice out of the carton?”
Tessa shook her head and pointed to the laptop. “You said you’d like to send the article off before dinner.”
Paul nodded. “I did.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Tessa added, “And you said as soon as you were done with the article, you were leaving.”
He leaned against the couch cushions. “I did, but it’s Friday. I might as well see the weekend out. You should have seen Mom’s face this morning when I mentioned that I might stay until Sunday.” He shrugged. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend a few more days in Mystic Water.”
Tessa nearly bounced on her toes. She turned her back to him and opened the refrigerator just so she could hide the ridiculous smile on her face. She scanned the contents and then peered around the door. “Are you having dinner with your parents then?”
Paul shook his head but continued to type. “Mom has some lady’s function at the church. It’s Dad’s turn to help with Meals on Wheels, and his team is meeting,” Paul glanced at his watch, “right now in the diner. So, I assumed you and I would be having dinner together.” He finally looked at her.
Tessa cocked her hip to the side and closed the refrigerator door. “What if I’d had plans?”
“Do you?”
Her cheeks warmed, and she averted his gaze. “Well, not tonight, but sometimes I have dinner plans.”
Paul grinned. “I’m sure you do, but tonight you have plans with me. Give me an hour to finish up with the article and get it sent off, and then I say we cook up Lady and the Tramp.”
Tessa tucked her hair behind her ears. “When you say cook up lady and the tramp, you don’t mean we’re eating dog, do you?”
Paul choked on a laugh. “Tess, you must really think I am a brute. First, you believe I’d eat Huck Finn, and now you think I’d serve up cocker spaniel and mutt.” He made a fist and mimicked a stabbing motion, hitting it against his chest. “You wound me.”
Tessa giggled. “Oh, don’t be so overdramatic. You’ve been all over the world. How am I to know that you don’t eat dog?”
“First of all, it tastes like chicken—”
Tessa tossed up h
er hands. “Ew, no, don’t say any more.” She poked her fingers into her ears.
Paul mouthed. “I’m kidding.” Then he made the motion for her to unplug her ears.
“Is it safe?”
He winked. “It’s never safe with me.”
Now that I believe.
“Lady and the Tramp is an old Borelli family recipe. It’s a fancy term for spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Oh! The meal from the cartoon movie.”
“Will that work?”
Tessa nodded. “Dinner sounds great.”
He returned to his laptop, and Tessa stood in the kitchen grinning like an idiot until she grabbed her cell and slipped it into her back pocket. She watched Paul type for a few seconds. “I need to run over to Honeysuckle Hollow and make sure the cleaners finished and pick up the key. Charlie was going to drop off supplies to board up the windows. While you work, I might try to put those up myself. I’d feel better knowing the house was more secure. I’ll be back by dinner.”
Paul stopped typing. “That’s not an easy job to do alone. Give me an hour to finish this and then I’ll whip up dinner. We can board up the house together.”
Tessa smiled. “I’d appreciate that. Can I do anything to help you prepare for dinner? Run to the store?”
Paul stretched for his notepad and a pencil. Then he scribbled a list of ingredients onto the paper. He tore the page off the pad and handed it to Tessa. “Can you grab those last few herbs from Mom’s garden? I’ll probably be finished by the time you get back. Thanks, Tess.”
Her chest expanded when she inhaled, and she smiled at him even though his eyes were already scanning his computer screen. “See you soon.” She was amazed at how those three words buoyed her spirits and caused her heartbeat to quicken. I could get used to this.
Tessa rubbed her belly and slumped against the passenger seat as Paul parked alongside the curb in front of Honeysuckle Hollow. “Lady and the Tramp has done me in. I can’t believe I ate two helpings.”
Paul unbuckled his seat belt. “I counted three. The fifth piece of bread was especially risky, but you finished it like a champ.”
Tessa groaned. “I may not be able to move. Think I can hammer in nails from here?”
“Not unless you have extendable arms.”
Tessa unhooked her seat belt and opened her door. She held her arms straight out in front of her. “Go-go-gadget arms!”
Paul’s laughter billowed over the hood and slipped into her heart. Tessa closed her eyes and smiled.
He walked around to her side of the car. “I sense a malfunction.” Then he grabbed her hands and pulled her out. “Next time, should I limit how many times you fill your plate?”
Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare.”
She found the key hidden beneath a brick sitting on a part of the front porch that still stood. Charlie had used a large sheet of plywood and created a ramp from the yard to the front door since the front of the porch had been destroyed. Tessa unlocked the door, and she and Paul bounced up the ramp into the house.
Tessa’s shoes no longer left dust tracks on the floor. It looked as though a giant fan had blown dust and dirt from the entire bottom section of the house. Gone were the lacy cobwebs from the corners and the stairwell. The dank smell of mildew had faded, leaving behind the scent of lemon. When the wind blew through the house, Tessa smelled the blooming honeysuckle in the backyard.
Paul stepped up beside her and nodded. “Definitely an improvement. One step closer to seeing how great this house is going to shine when we’re all done here.”
Tessa startled beside him; her eyes widened. We’re? He just lumped us together. In a sentence. She clasped her hands together and squeezed.
Paul walked toward the stack of plywood left behind by Charlie. He opened a box of screws and tested the weight of the power drill in his hand. “I say we get started or we’re going to lose the light.”
We’re, Tessa thought again. Twice. Me and him. Together.
“Hey, Tess, am I losing you to a food coma?”
Tessa blinked. “Huh?”
“You look dazed.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears and felt a blush creep into her cheeks. “No, I’m good.” I’m just thinking about you and me being a we. “Let’s get started.”
Paul and Tessa walked through the house taking an inventory of which windows needed to be boarded up, but it was clear when they finished that Charlie had already done most of the work. She had measured the windows and had already cut the plywood panels to fit.
“Charlie is your contractor, right?” Paul asked as he squeezed the trigger on the drill and it whirred.
Tessa nodded. “She apprenticed under a contractor who does great work. He says she’s good people, and I trust his judgment.”
“Charlie’s a girl? Wow,” Paul said.
Tessa pointed her finger at him. “Don’t say wow like girls can’t be contractors.”
Paul held up his hands in defense. “I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“I’m only giving you a hard time because when I first met her, I thought she was the maid service.”
Paul chuckled. “She clearly knows what’s she’s doing. She’s given us corrosion-resistant screws that are longer than two inches, which means they’ll hold fast into the framing, and they’ll be easier to remove than nails. She also picked galvanized pan head screws because of their flat-bottomed heads that won’t sink into the plywood and weaken it.”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
Paul held out the drill. “Do you know how to use this?”
“Sure.” It couldn’t be that difficult, could it? She squeezed the trigger and winced.
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
Tessa frowned. “No lip from you, Borelli. Just tell me what to do.”
Paul lifted a sheet of plywood and carried it to the first window. “Drill pilot holes through the plywood at least one inch from the edge of the panel. We’ll probably want holes every sixteen inches. Once we get the pilot holes done, we’ll drive in the screws. And don’t stab me. I doubt you’re offering worker’s comp.”
They boarded up the broken windows, and by the time they were done, the sun had nearly set for the day. Tessa stood in front of the broken French doors. She stared into the darkening backyard.
“What should we do about this opening?” Tessa called over her shoulder.
Paul walked up the hallway and joined her. “Good question. There’s a tarp in the living room. We could hang that up and tape it around the edges. It’ll be a temporary fix. Not a great one, but it’ll work until we get these doors replaced.” Paul left to gather the supplies they’d need.
Lights blinked in the backyard and darted through the weeds and the branches of the oak. Tessa stepped closer to the doors. Lightning bugs. Hundreds of them seemed to swarm and gather within the span of a breath. The wind weaved through the yard, bringing laughter that stirred the grass.
Paul dropped the supplies on the kitchen island. “Is that laughing? Are there kids in the yard?”
Tessa glanced at him before stepping through the broken doors and onto the backyard brick patio. The lightning bugs twirled and danced, leaving trails of light behind them like comet tails. Their lights twined together, and laughter seemed to rise from the honeysuckle, from the river, from the unruly sage. While Tessa watched, the bugs joined together in two large, whirling groups until they looked like the twinkling bodies of two children playing in the backyard. Tessa stared, slack-jawed, in awe. The next strong breeze dispersed the bugs, and Tessa swallowed. The laughter faded.
She pointed. “Did you…”
“Did I what?”
Tessa shivered. Did you see the glowing kids? “Never mind.”
Paul slipped his arm around her shoulders. He smiled down at her and gave her a squeeze before dropping his arm. “We’re almost done here. Want to help me get this tarp up before we’re swallowed by the darkness?”
“Ready for us to go home?”
Tessa turned and looked at Paul. The evening stretched into the house and shadowed everything. Paul’s dark silhouette lingered in the hallway, and his expression was hidden by the night.
She nodded. She might have imagined the glowing kids laughing in Honeysuckle Hollow’s garden, but she hadn’t imagined him using the words us and home in the same sentence as though she and Paul were connected because they both occupied a space together. But for how long?
16
Strawberry Pop-Tarts
Tessa dreamed of laughing children and a wedding when roses were in bloom and the spring rain coated the bright green leaves and drenched the grass. When she opened her eyes the next morning, the butter-yellow sunbeams were already slanting through the blinds, stretching across the foot of the bed. She kicked off the covers and stretched. Then she padded out into the living room just to see if Paul was still there.
He snored quietly on the couch. One arm stretched over his head and rested on his forehead. Tessa leaned her head against the doorframe and sighed. How could anyone not get used to this? After she showered and dressed, she found Paul sitting up on the couch with his laptop open on his lap. His unruly dark hair stuck up on the side he’d been sleeping on, and the half-asleep expression on his face made her stomach twitter. His sleepy blue eyes gazed at her. Then a crooked smile stretched across his face.
“Should I even ask what you’re smiling about?”
“Who just published an article with Southern Living, the magazine with approximately fifteen million devoted readers? And whose article will also be in print form next month? And who, might I ask, will most likely be writing for them on a regular basis?”