Honeysuckle Hollow

by Jennifer Moorman

  Her mama’s reaction caused Tessa’s eyes to fill with tears. Her mama laughed.

  “Now, I know you’re joking. You’d never use your savings on such an impulsive decision.”

  Tessa wiped at the tears on her cheek. When she spoke, her voice hitched. “I’ve made up my mind. You don’t have to support me or believe that I can do this, but I’d hoped you would.”

  “Tessa,” her mama said in a gentler voice, “I do believe in you, but I know you’ve had a habit of rash behavior that has led to unfortunate consequences. I only want to help you and guide you. I love you and know where your gifts lie, and, honey, you’ve never rehabbed anything in your life. I really think it’s best if you choose a different project. Maybe start small and work your way up.”

  Tessa shook her head, even though her mama couldn’t see her. “This is what I want, Mama. Tell Daddy I said hey and that I love him.”

  “Tessa—”

  “Mama, I need to get going. Y’all have fun, and we’ll talk soon.”

  “I’m worried about you,” her mama said.

  Tessa’s throat tightened, and she tried to clear it. “Don’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you soon, okay?” Tessa said goodbye, and although she knew her mama wanted to talk more, she allowed Tessa to go.

  As Tessa sat in the Great Pumpkin, her bottom lip quivered. Everyone in her life thought she’d made an awful decision, and Tessa felt nauseated. She looked at the plant. “My best friends and my mama don’t think I can fix the house. Paul…I’m not sure his opinion matters, but he was doubtful too.” She rubbed her temples. “What do you think? Do you agree with everyone else?” she asked the plant.

  A breeze blew through the open car windows, and runners of mint bumped into Tessa’s leg. Mint tendrils curled around her wrist, and Tessa stared at the spear-shaped leaves pressing against her skin. “Is that a no?” She glanced out the windshield, blinked away her tears, and nodded her head. “So, I have a mint plant on my side, and let’s not forget about the protection spear that’s with me. Oh, and the town clairvoyant agrees with my decision. What a team.”

  18

  Honeysuckle Wine

  By the time Tessa parked the Great Pumpkin in front of Honeysuckle Hollow, the sun drooped toward the horizon, and lightning bugs flickered in the front yard. Her head pounded against her temples, her eyes were dry from crying, and her stomach growled. “Focus on the positive. Focus on the positive,” she repeated like a mantra.

  The Potts had re-laid all of the bricks in the herringbone pathway, and now that the weeds were gone, Tessa could see the distinct outlines of flowerbeds. Bushes against the house had been pruned, leaving behind fat thorny branches sprinkled with buds of green. Matthias’ damask roses?

  Long boards, acting as makeshift columns, had been shoved along the roofline above the front porch to keep the roof from collapsing. Someone had spray painted a smiley face on the sheet of plywood acting as a ramp from the ground to what was left of the porch in front of the main door.

  Tessa opened the trunk, grabbed a few bags, and carried them across the front yard. Crickets chirped to her. She wobbled up the trembling ramp and unlocked the front door. Once inside the foyer, Tessa exhaled and thought, Mine. She continued to unload the car until all of her belongings and her purchases from the hardware store were sitting in the living room. Tessa walked through the house, seeing that the workers had replaced the French doors, pulled up the carpet in the upstairs bedrooms, and left behind stacks of supplies shoved against a wall in the kitchen. A note, written with a black marker, was pinned to the kitchen island with a hammer. It read, We’ll be back at 7 a.m. on Monday.

  Tessa shoved all the covered furniture in the front living room against one wall. Then she upended the bags from the hardware store. The electricity couldn’t be turned on in the house until an inspector could come out and check the wiring and circuitry, which wouldn’t happen until Monday. So, Tessa unpacked the LED lanterns and hand cranked them both until they illuminated the front room in a soft, white glow. Lightning bugs flashed near the front windows as if watching her.

  Next, she unrolled the sleeping bag and spread it on the hardwood floor. She laid back on it and shrugged. It wasn’t the most comfortable option she’d ever slept on, but it would work. She used her car keys to slice through the tape on the box holding the tent. After reading through the instructions on how to properly erect a tent, she felt confident she could set it up. However, half an hour later when the sun had completely set, Tessa cursed when one of the poles separated in the middle and the entire tent folded over on her head. She sat on the floor, shrouded in the forest green canvas, and her bottom lip trembled.

  She thought of Anna and Lily and their shocked, worried responses to her purchase of Honeysuckle Hollow. She heard her mama’s voice: I know you’ve had a habit of rash behavior that has led to unfortunate consequences. Had she been too impulsive? Was it a mistake so huge she could never recover from it? Tears blurred her vision and dripped down her cheeks. She swiped them away with her fingertips. Pity swooped in like a vulture and attacked her self-assurance.

  A rapping sounded against one of the living room windows. Tessa peeked her head out of the collapsed tent and saw Paul’s hands and face pressed to the window. When he saw her, a silly grin stretched across his face, and he lifted what looked like a paper sack.

  “I brought dinner,” he shouted through the glass, pointing toward the bag.

  She crawled out of the tent and opened the front door. She brushed dust from the knees of her jeans and raked her fingers through her hair.

  “Hi,” she said.

  She could barely make out his facial features in the orange glow from the streetlights, but even his silhouette was a welcomed sight.

  “I come bearing gifts,” he said, handing the bag to her.

  It felt warm in her hands, and the warmth spread through her fingers and all the way to her chest. She inhaled the scents of gooey cinnamon rolls, crisp bacon, and melted cheese. Tears filled her eyes again, and she tried to blink them away.

  “This is a surprise,” she said. She stepped out of the doorway and motioned for him to come inside. In the shadow of the door, she wiped her eyes again. “Enter if you dare. There’s no electricity. Thankfully, the plumbing works.”

  Paul walked inside and stood in the archway leading to the living room. They both stared at the green blob of fabric that should have been a cozy, two-person tent.

  “You know I was an Eagle Scout, right?” he asked. “I can probably whip that into shape in about five minutes.”

  “Have at it,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I had already accepted the fact that it would be used as a giant, uncomfortable blanket for the evening.”

  Paul chuckled. “Mom and Dad wanted to come upstairs to say hello tonight, but they didn’t know you’d moved out. I told her that you’d decided to push the limits of your outdoorsy nature. She thought I was kidding. Once I convinced her you had, in fact, abandoned me, she insisted I bring you food since you’d decided to live in a—a new place.”

  “A dilapidated mansion?” Tessa asked, able to smile for the first time in hours. As much as she had tried avoiding Paul, she didn’t want to anymore. Just being in the room with him caused her shoulders to lower from her ears and her breathing to deepen.

  “Those were not her exact words, but it’s close to her description,” he said. He removed his backpack and knelt in front of the tent.

  “You want the instructions?” Tessa asked.

  “Don’t need them,” he said. “I brought silverware, plates, and cups,” he added, pointing over his shoulder toward his backpack.

  “This is a regular picnic,” Tessa said as she sat on the floor and opened Paul’s pack. Her eyes widened when she removed a bottle of honeysuckle wine and a corkscrew.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder before he slid one metal pole through a loop of fabric. “From Mom,” he said. “One of her customers makes it locally. She said it wou
ld be perfect for the house. And could maybe be used to dull your senses after you realize what you’ve done.”

  Tessa would have been offended if Paul hadn’t winked at her in the lamplight. “Thank you,” she said. “For the food and the wine and the Eagle Scout assistance.”

  “It gives me something to do,” he said as he slid another pole into place. “The apartment is too quiet. There’s no one there to argue with or to make me poisonous food.”

  “Aww, you missed me?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “Who wouldn’t?” he asked.

  She paused in unpacking the food. She wanted to remember that one second when her heart fluttered and she couldn’t stop smiling because someone missed having her around. Then, before she allowed herself to be swallowed by the emotion, she finished pulling food from the paper sack, marveling at all the choices Cecilia had given to them. There were cinnamon rolls, waffles, bacon, sausage, and breakfast turnovers filled with eggs, cheese, and spinach. She placed two bottles of Coke and two of water beside the food.

  “This is too much,” she said.

  “Have you seen me eat? I was just thinking that maybe I wouldn’t be sharing.”

  With a swift pop, the tent spread and locked into place. Tessa clapped.

  Paul bowed. “It would have been embarrassing if that hadn’t worked quite as well,” he said, sitting down beside her on the floor.

  He studied her face, and Tessa busied her hands unwrapping the silverware and napkins. When she glanced up, he was still looking at her.

  “What?”

  “You’re upset.”

  Her hands stilled. “Not at the moment.”

  “But you were.”

  She passed Paul a plate. “I’ve had one of those days.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  Tessa sighed. “Not really.”

  “I’d like for you to. Over a picnic dinner? You tell me your story, and I’ll tell you mine.”

  “As long as this isn’t show-and-tell,” she mumbled.

  Paul laughed. “If you want to take it in that direction, I’m not going to object.”

  Tessa felt her pulse at her throat. She arranged the food in a semicircle around them. “I hope buffet-style works for you.”

  He grabbed the wine bottle and uncorked it. Then he poured a small amount into two plastic cups. He passed Tessa one. “Cheers to new beginnings in your new home!” He raised his cup.

  Tessa’s hand paused, and she stared at the cup. When she looked at Paul, he smiled at her and moved his cup closer to hers.

  “Are you going to leave me hanging here?”

  She lowered her cup. “No, it’s just…are you happy for me?”

  Paul stopped smiling. “What do you mean?”

  “About the house. Do you think I’m a reckless imbecile who just made the worst decision of her life?”

  Paul put down his cup. “I sense the need to answer that question carefully. Do I think you’re reckless? Not since I’ve known you. You definitely don’t strike me as an imbecile. Worst decision? Well…I did look through your high school yearbook, and it’s possible that your hairstyle senior year was a misstep.”

  Tessa snorted and then her eyes watered. “It was the style,” she said, but her voice broke. She wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fall apart on you, but it seems as though everyone in my life thinks me buying the house is a ridiculous idea. They think I’m in over my head.”

  “Are you?”

  Tessa shrugged. “Possibly, but it doesn’t feel like the wrong decision. It’s a lot of work, I know. But I can do it. I want to do this. And I just want one person to believe in me enough to trust that I’m doing what is best for me.”

  “Do you believe in you?”

  Tessa looked at him and nodded. “I do,” she said with hesitation, and then her heart thumped hard against her ribs. “I do.”

  Paul lifted his cup again. “That’s what matters. The others will come around. Until they do, you have me, and I believe you can do this.”

  A slow, steady warmth spread through Tessa’s chest and fluttered her stomach. She tapped her cup against Paul’s. “Thank you.”

  “Cheers to the second worst decision you’ve ever made and to new hairstyles,” Paul said, grinning at her.

  Tessa snorted into her cup before she sipped the wine. “Don’t pretend you never had a bad hairstyle.”

  “Hairstyle? No. Now, style in general? Yes. Ask Mom. There are a few doozies still framed in their house. I’m particularly fond of the shot of me and Eddie wearing high-waisted jeans with T-shirts tucked in.”

  Tessa grabbed a plate and laughed. She unwrapped a breakfast turnover and sighed. “Story time?”

  “Ladies first,” Paul said just before he bit into a cinnamon roll.

  Tessa talked about her day starting that morning at the house, leaving out his phone call from Natalie. She explained how Charlie had rounded up a crew of out-of-work workers and how Leon had offered to bring over a pair of French doors that were the perfect size. She pointed toward the ceiling and told him about the spear and the trunk of pictures in the attic. Then she repeated her conversations with both Lily and Anna and with her mama. When she was finished, she reached for a cold waffle and she split it into quarters.

  “Depressed enough?”

  Paul smiled at her. “If this is a contest, I should at least get a turn to see how my story ranks.”

  Tessa made a sweeping motion with her hand. “Please proceed.” She couldn’t imagine how Paul’s story would be depressing. He was a globetrotter who took adventures every week, and he had at last two women vying for his attention.

  “You know why I came to Mystic Water?” he asked.

  “To see your parents?”

  Paul shook his head. “I could have visited anytime, but I always used the excuse that I was busy. Because I was busy, but people make time for what they want to make time for. And being a rotten son, I didn’t make time for my parents the way I should have. But I finally found some free time to spend with them.”

  Tessa nodded. “That’s good.”

  “Do you know why I have the free time? I lost my job. I was let go. Laid off. Given the pink slip. I am currently unemployed with no paycheck, no home, no place to go. Lousy reason to come home.”

  Tessa put down her plate. “You—you don’t have a job? But what about the Cook Islands and the article you wrote? Did you make that up?”

  “No,” Paul said. “The Cook Islands’ article was being funded by my last employer, only they let me go. I still want to write the article, but I need to find someone who will print it. And the article on Mystic Water is legit. Southern Living has already published it on their online site, and they’re going to print it in their next monthly. This article will definitely help to get my name back out there.”

  “Did you tell your parents?”

  “Of course not.” Paul shook his head. “Mom would worry, and Dad would try and get me to work at the diner. Settle down here.”

  “And that would be awful,” Tessa mumbled.

  Paul poked his fork tines into her knee. “I never said that, but settling down is difficult for me. I’ve been on the run for years.”

  Tessa furrowed her brow. “What are you running from?”

  Paul locked eyes with Tessa, and she couldn’t look away. A mockingbird sang outside.

  “Natalie,” he said.

  Tessa was amazed at how swiftly that one word caused her stomach to clench. She put down her waffle and nodded. “The fiancée.” The word burned on her tongue like a jalapeño seed.

  “Ex,” Paul said and clenched his jaw.

  Tessa reached for a bottle of Coke and unscrewed the top. “But she called this morning.”

  “So?”

  “Does that make her less ex?”

  “Hell no,” Paul said.

  Anger rippled off him like bubbles of boiling water spilling over the sides of a pot. The mint shivered beside Tess
a. She petted the leaves, releasing its sweet fragrance.

  “Careful,” she said. “You’re upsetting the mint.” She tried to smile at him.

  Paul inhaled and rolled his head on his neck. “Five years ago, I lived in Boston. I took a job as an architect at a local firm when I was just out of college. I worked my way up. Good clients. Good pay. Natalie worked there, too, and she also happened to be the owner’s daughter.

  “We dated for a couple of years. I proposed. She said yes. We started planning a wedding, but she decided married life wasn’t for her.” He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

  Tessa waited. Paul reached for a cinnamon roll.

  “And?” Tessa asked.

  “And that’s it.”

  “No way. You can’t end the story there. What kind of girl decides married life isn’t for her? What did she want instead of you? Was she out of her mind? How did she even say that? Oh, by the way, I’ve decided married life isn’t for me, and you what? Just said okay? Have a nice life?”

  Paul chuckled. “Thank you for thinking that a girl must be out of her mind to turn me down.”

  “If the shoe fits,” Tessa said with a shrug.

  His grin widened. “Probably when she went on a weekend getaway with Jerry from the Cooper build is when I decided married life wasn’t for her.”

  Tessa’s mouth fell open and she stared. “She was running around with someone else?”

  Paul nodded. “A geeky guy with a beak for a nose, but I’m being petty. He’s probably a great guy if you forgive the fact that he was my co-worker and he knew she was an engaged girl. She begged me to forgive her and to understand that she and Jerry were soul mates. She blubbered all over the office, like she was the victim. I said I’d forgive her in about five years, but until then, they needed to stay out of my face.

  “I couldn’t stand seeing them together, so I quit. I needed a change. I wrote an article for an online magazine. They bought it. I wrote another one and another one, and one day, I had a steady job. I left Boston and never went back. I figured they deserved each other, that they were going to get married and have beak-nosed kids, except he’s now rekindled his romance with his high school sweetheart and hung Natalie out to dry.”