Paul dropped his laptop bag on the couch and pulled out the computer so he could inspect it for raindrops. Satisfied, he plugged in the computer and left it on the couch. Then he scrubbed his hand through his hair, shaking rainwater into the air. “From Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s His Last Bow. I was channeling Sherlock Holmes,” he said, pointing to himself. “That makes you Watson—”
“Who was a guy,” Tessa said, narrowing her eyes at Paul over her shoulder. Then she started unpacking the grocery bag.
“Not in my story. In my story, Watson is a beautiful woman who buys historic homes.”
Tessa almost grinned, but a twist of unease spiraled through her chest, and she paused from unpacking the groceries long enough to rub her fingers across her collarbone. “Is it bad out there?”
Paul nodded. “It’s wild. The wind nearly blew me off the sidewalk.”
“You think the house will be okay?” Tessa asked as disquiet bubbled inside her.
Paul sorted through the groceries. “Barring any natural catastrophe, yes. She’s a sturdy broad.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’ll be okay. It’s just a storm.”
“Just a storm is probably what everyone said right before half the town nearly floated away or drowned in the flood.” She lifted a mason jar full of clear liquid. “This doesn’t look like something you bought at the store.”
Paul smirked and grabbed the jar. “White lightning.”
“Moonshine?” Tessa gaped at him. “Where did you—”
He pressed his finger against her lips. “Don’t ask.”
Tessa snorted. “There is no way I’m drinking that.” She jabbed her finger against the jar.
A streak of lightning lit the darkness outside, and Tessa stared at the windows as thunder vibrated the panes. The mint plant shivered and released a sweet, fresh scent into the air.
“It’s the perfect night for white lightning grits and thunder eggs,” Paul said.
Tessa raised an eyebrow. “You just made that up.”
Paul grinned. “Nope. An old family recipe, minus the white lightning and the grits, but I’m improvising.”
Tessa shrugged. “There’s always Plan B if dinner doesn’t turn out.”
“What’s Plan B?”
She pointed to the cereal box on top of the refrigerator, and Paul chuckled.
“It’ll turn out.” He moved around the kitchen, pulling out the necessary pots and pans.
Tessa walked over to the window and stared out into the darkness. Rain splattered against the glass, and strong winds swirled around the building, whining in the night. She pressed her fingertips against a pane.
“You sure she’ll be alright?” Tessa asked as she rubbed the back of her neck.
Paul turned on the stovetop. “It’s just a rainstorm, Tess. She’s withstood much more, I’m sure.”
Tessa nodded, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the east wind would leave more than scattered leaves and mud puddles behind. The word destruction slithered around in her mind like an uneasy serpent.
23
A Wicked Broken Egg
The next morning Tessa’s cell phone rang and vibrated right off the bedside table. She grumbled as she dangled off the side of the bed and stretched her fingertips out for it.
She answered just before her voice mail picked up. “Hello?” Her mouth was dry, and her voice came out as a croak.
“Tessa?”
She heaved herself back onto the bed and glanced at the alarm clock. It was five minutes past seven in the morning. “Charlie, hey.”
“You need to get to the house,” Charlie said.
Tessa’s shoulders tensed at the tone of her contractor’s voice. Why does Charlie sound anxious? “Is everything okay?”
“You just need to get here. Like five minutes ago. Can you leave now?”
Tessa swung her legs off the bed and stood. “What’s wrong?”
“Just get here.”
Charlie disconnected and Tessa stared at the phone, giving her own anxieties a full minute to quadruple inside her chest. She ran to her closet and pulled on yesterday’s pair of already-worn jeans and a T-shirt. She yanked a comb through her hair and brushed her teeth. Then she hurried into the living room. She leaned over Paul’s sleeping form on the couch.
“Paul,” she said as she touched his shoulder.
His eyes fluttered open. “Hmm?”
“Charlie called. She sounded freaked out. I’m going to the house.”
Paul pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Now?”
Tessa nodded and grabbed her purse from a kitchen chair. “I’ll call you when I find out what’s going on.” She dug her keys out of the depths of her bag.
Paul kicked off the quilt covering his lower half. “I’m going with you. Give me five minutes.”
On their way to Honeysuckle Hollow, Tessa gripped the steering wheel as though she intended to choke the life out of it. Downed tree branches and overturned garbage cans littered the sidewalks and yards. A million green leaves—ripped from their trees—coated the streets, making it look as though they drove along a forest path. The wind blew the car around as though it were made of paper. Tessa navigated the car like a drunken driver.
When Tessa parked behind a work truck in front of Honeysuckle Hollow, she exhaled and released her grip on the steering wheel. Paul leaned forward and peered out of the windshield.
“Looks okay,” he said. He glanced over at Tessa, and she nodded.
But when they climbed out of the car, the wind rushed them, yanking at their clothing and tangling Tessa’s hair. It was the kind of intense wind that could steal hearts, breaths, and hopes. Charlie flung open the front door and met them halfway across the yard. She held her hands out like someone offering surrender.
“Now, don’t freak out,” Charlie said.
“That makes me feel like freaking out,” Tessa said. “What’s going on?” She struggled to keep her hair out of her eyes.
“It’s the backyard. The oak,” Charlie said. “It looks like lightning struck it. There’s a huge scar running straight down the entire trunk.”
Tessa wrinkled her brow. “And it’s dead?”
Charlie shook her head. “No, but one of the largest branches was blasted off the tree. Looks like it was ripped from the trunk. There are wood shards everywhere.”
Tessa glanced over at Paul and then back at Charlie. “That’s it? You thought I would freak out that we lost a tree branch?”
Charlie kicked at the grass with the toe of her boot. “That branch flew into the side of the house and crushed the roof, ripped off the second floor balcony, and landed in the kitchen right after it busted through the French doors.”
A buzzing—like the sounds of a thousand swarming bees—filled Tessa’s head. Her vision narrowed until only a pinprick of light could be seen. Then her knees buckled, and Paul caught her before she dropped into a full swoon. She gripped his arms.
After he steadied her on her feet, she said, “I need to see it.”
Charlie puffed out her cheeks before she exhaled a sigh that was lost in the wind. Tessa and Paul followed Charlie through the foyer. Halfway down the hallway that led to the kitchen and living room, Tessa saw the mangled oak branch that had smashed through the house like an angry giant with a club. Gray sunlight streamed through the gaping hole in the back of the house, shining against puddles of water and dampness. She pressed both hands against her mouth and gasped. Paul kept walking, but Tessa’s feet felt glued to the hardwood.
Workers on Charlie’s team milled around the kitchen, scratching their heads and shuffling their feet as though they felt as discouraged as Tessa did. One man swept water out through the back of the house with a broom. Another man gathered pieces of the splintered branch as though collecting firewood. Leon, the man who’d given Tessa the French doors, stepped into her line of vision. Without asking, he slid one arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. She crumpled against his barrel chest.
“Damn
shame,” he said with a voice that rumbled like thunder.
“I—I don’t—this is too much,” Tessa stuttered.
Leon moved to stand in front of her and grabbed her shoulders in his large hands. “We can fix this.”
Tessa’s bottom lip trembled. “It’s—it’s a three-sided house. The money. It’ll take a miracle to fix this.”
Leon squeezed her shoulders and nodded. “Miracles happen every day.”
As tears slid down her cheeks, Tessa thought, But not to me.
After spending three hours at Honeysuckle Hollow, feeling as though she’d been body-snatched, she’d talked with a constant flow of workers. Tessa felt sure she’d spoken with nearly every person in Mystic Water, even without her brain engaged. She clutched a stack of estimates and repair designs scribbled on paper like a favorite stuffed animal as she dragged her feet along behind Paul. He opened the passenger-side door for her and held out his hand for the keys. After digging them out of her purse and passing them to him, she sagged into the seat like a deflated balloon.
Her cell phone rang and rather than answer it herself, assuming it was Charlie or another worker, she handed it to Paul. She lacked the energy to form complete sentences.
Paul looked at the blinking face of the phone. “It’s Anna. Don’t you want to answer?”
Tessa shook her head. “Send it to voice mail.”
“Hey, Anna,” Paul said, ignoring Tessa’s command. “She’s right here, but we’ve had a long morning. Lunch? Today?”
When Paul glanced over at her, Tessa shook her head so hard that she placed one hand against the side of her face and winced.
“She’d love to,” Paul said. “Fred’s Diner at 12:30. See you then.”
Tessa glared at him and slapped her hands against the papers in her lap, completely aware that she was on the verge of a temper tantrum. “Why did you agree to that? Didn’t you see me shaking my head?”
Paul started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “The last thing you need to do is sit at the apartment. You need to get out and surround yourself with people who care about you.”
Tessa’s bottom lip trembled. “But I want to sit around and feel sorry for myself.”
Paul reached over and patted her paper-covered leg. “You have at least an hour and a half to wallow, and then we’re going out.” He glanced over at her. “They’ll want to know what’s happened.”
Tessa sighed and stared out the window. As much as she wanted to lock herself away in the bedroom with a bag of caramel crèmes and a romance novel, she felt her spirits lift, if only slightly, at the thought of being with her best friends.
Paul opened the door to Fred’s Diner and motioned for Tessa to enter. The scents of greasy comfort foods—salty french fries, hamburger patties sizzling on the griddle, and buttery sandwich bread—reached out and tugged Tessa inside. The noon crowd sat around, busy eating and wiping their fingers on too-thin brown napkins pulled from dispensers on the tables. Conversations hummed around the room like a few dozen radios all working at once.
Tessa glanced around the room and saw Anna raise her hand while sitting in a back corner booth. Tessa nodded and weaved her way through the tables. Lily, Jakob, and Eli sat with Anna at a rounded booth, and Tessa slid in beside Anna so Paul could sit on the outside seat.
Tessa struggled to make eye contact while she said hello to everyone. Paul glanced over at her and then held his hand out across the table toward Jakob.
“I’m Paul Borelli.”
Jakob shook his hand and introduced himself. “Heard you were helping Tessa with the house. We live down the street from Honeysuckle Hollow. That was some storm last night, right? Our street looked like every tree for miles dropped their branches in our neighborhood. Good thing you haven’t moved in yet. I’m not sure anyone slept well.”
Tessa made a strangled noise in her throat. Then because she was worried she might start crying, she cleared her throat a few times before reaching for her glass of water and drinking half of it.
Anna turned her body in the booth so she could face Tessa. “What is it? You were beaming like a lightning bug yesterday, and today you look drained.”
Tessa pressed her lips together and inhaled. On the exhale, she said, “Let’s order. It’s been a long morning. We can talk while we eat.”
Anna looked only momentarily satisfied with Tessa’s answer, and Tessa knew she wouldn’t be able to withhold from them much longer. No one but Paul needed to look over the menu in order to make a selection, so Tessa pointed out the local favorites to Paul. Once he’d decided, and after the waitress breezed by to take their order, Lily clasped her hands together on the tabletop.
“Spill it,” Lily said. “You ordered a salad from Fred’s Diner. You’re not well.”
Tessa felt Paul’s hand slide over hers on the vinyl seat, and he squeezed her fingers. She cleared her throat one last time and went into detail about the destruction of the house and how she had no choice but to forfeit the majority—if not nearly all—of the rehabilitation projects she’d planned. Most of her money would have to be used to repair the roof and the exterior wall of the house, including all the damage in between. When she was finished talking, everyone sat in a silence so heavy it felt as though a sopping wet sleeping bag had been dropped over Tessa’s head.
“I was this close,” Tessa separated her forefinger and her thumb an inch apart, “to having this all work out. Now—now, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Will the house be livable,” Anna asked, “once the major repairs are made? Can you still move in?”
Tessa shrugged. “I’ll have to. It won’t be ideal. I won’t have finished floors or a working kitchen. The electrical and the plumbing will work because those are necessary for all the permits.” She sighed and folded a napkin in half and then in half again, pressing firmly along the creases. “But in college we worked with only a microwave.” She glanced across the table at Lily. “Remember? We did okay then.”
Lily scoffed. “We lived off of macaroni and cheese and Ramen noodles. I hardly think that constitutes as okay.”
“Lily,” Anna scolded, “positive thoughts.”
“I mean, I love macaroni and cheese as much as anyone,” Lily said. “Plus, it’s not as though you’re an avid cook, Tess.” When Anna glared at Lily, she added, “Hey, what about a scratch and dent appliance store? Couldn’t you look around there for deals? I bet you could find a good enough cooktop and refrigerator until you find what you really wanted.”
Tessa propped her elbows on the table and rubbed her temples. “I hate to admit this, but I’m not sure I will be able to afford much more than a low-wattage microwave. Maybe in a year or two I could save up enough.”
“Will the house be safe to live in?” Anna asked.
Paul nodded. “Safe, yes. Comfortable? Depends on your definition of comfort.”
“You have indoor plumbing,” Eli said. “That’s something.”
“Yeah,” Tessa mumbled.
The group quieted again, and the waitress delivered their food. Then they worked on cleaning their plates with the silences punctuated by idle chit chat about the weather or what Rose—Jakob and Lily’s daughter—had said or about a new baked good Anna had created. After the last silence stretched on too long, Tessa finally broke it with a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry I’m bringing down the lunch atmosphere,” Tessa said. “It’s just—does anyone mind if I—if Paul and I head to the apartment? That way you can enjoy the rest of the meal. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.”
Anna put her hand over Tessa’s hand on the table. “Tess, we want to help you, but I’m not sure what we can do. You’re not in this alone.” She glanced over at Lily. “We’ll call a few people we know, see if anyone has items they want to give away. Appliances, furniture, spare anything.”
Lily nodded. “Jakob’s mama knows everyone in this town.” She looked at her husband. “She’ll call around too.”
Jako
b agreed, “Of course. Who knows what can happen in a day, right?”
Numbness had swept into Tessa’s body, and she felt like a worn-out doll. “Thanks, y’all.”
Paul dropped enough money on the table to pay for his and Tessa’s lunches. “Let’s get home. We’ll relax, and then we’ll tackle this again tomorrow.” He looked around the table and smiled. “I’ll be in touch later this afternoon. I have a few ideas to go with yours.”
They said goodbye, and Tessa apologized again for being out of sorts. But during the car ride to the apartment, she couldn’t pull her thoughts out of the doldrums. She hadn’t lost the house, and she told herself that over and over again. It just wouldn’t be rehabbed the way she had hoped, and it definitely wouldn’t be ready for Anna’s wedding. Paul parked on the street in front of the diner.
“Do you mind if I run to the library for a bit of research?” he asked.
Tessa hugged her purse to her chest and shook her head. Then she climbed out of the car.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said.
Tessa nodded her head and closed the door. When she rounded the corner of the building toward the exteriors steps that led to her apartment, she halted. Crazy Kate sat on the next to last stair, holding a pink bag from the candy shop.
“Right on time,” Crazy Kate said as she used the railing to pull herself onto her feet. She held out the bag toward Tessa.
Tessa’s shoulders sagged. “The house—”
“I know,” Crazy Kate said. “Inside.” She tossed her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the apartment. “I’m too old to sit on the metal stairs all day.”
Tessa grabbed the offered bag. “What’s this?”
“Comfort. Now come on,” she said, turning around and walking up the stairs.
Tessa followed her. Crazy Kate stepped out of the way long enough for Tessa to unlock the apartment, and then they both entered. Tessa dropped her purse onto the kitchen table.
“Want something to drink?” Tessa asked.
Crazy Kate pointed to the couch. “You sit. I’ll make tea.” She pulled a metal tin from a pocket hidden in the folds of her billowing fuchsia skirt.
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