Someone would have had to have lived on the moon not to know his name. He was being mentioned repeatedly as a Presidential hopeful.
“Well,” she said—and her ‘well’ sounded more like ‘whale’—“Congressman Stone lived here with his first wife and daughter many years ago, before he was a congressman. He was a judge back then. Quite a local celebrity. His daughter died when she was sixteen—murdered, to be truthful, and—”
“Murdered?” Amanda gasped. “In this house?”
“Oh no, my de-ah,” Belle said, “Not he-ah. Over they-ah.” She gestured vaguely. “The strain was too much for his wife. The poor woman hung herself. It’s the most terrible thing that’s ev-ah happened on Harkers Island. Of course he sold the house immediately. He moved to Raleigh. That was twenty years ago.”
We let that sink in. I was having visions of walking into the house and finding the mother in the kitchen, still swinging.
Belle headed for the back porch. “There have been two owners since then, and they have both kept up the house and the grounds.”
She opened the back door and we found ourselves in a mud room, which continued into a hallway. “I just hate taking you in from the rear of the house,” she said. “The front foyer is magnificent.”
I started singing Back Door Man by The Doors. That went over Belle’s head, but Amanda elbowed me—at least she appreciated my sense of humor.
Amanda and I walked through the house, mostly in silence as we listened to Belle drawl on about the many features of the place. She wasn’t pushy, just overly charming. By the time we ended up at the front of the house, Amanda and I found ourselves shaking our heads repeatedly, amazed at how much we both just loved the place. It had that Old-World feel found in homes built with hardwood floors and tons of wood moldings that cost a fortune nowadays.
As we walked through the front doors and out onto the wide veranda, Belle announced, “Well, that’s about it. What do y’all think of the place?”
“It’s gorgeous,” Amanda said.
“How much are they asking?” I queried matter-of-factly.
“Well, the sellers are motivated and the market is a bit soft,” she said, now changing to her selling voice. “They are asking five hundred.” She then leaned closer and whispered, as if anyone else was within a mile, “But I think they’d take four-eighty.”
“Find out if they’ll take four-fifty,” I whispered back. My whispering went over her head. When I looked at Amanda, her mouth was wide open and her eyes looked like they would pop out of her head.
“They are leaving all the furniture, you see, all included in the asking price,” Belle said, sweetening the pot. “They have already moved to Florida to be near their grandchildren.”
Before Amanda could speak, I shushed her for a change, and gave Belle my cell number. I thanked her and told her to call me if they took my offer. We said our goodbyes.
As Amanda and I walked down the wide front steps, she asked me just what I thought I was doing.
“I think I’m buying us a house,” I said, somewhat surprised to hear myself say it.
Chapter Eleven
The Stone House
Amanda’s reaction was a little different from what I’d expected. Actually, I’m not sure what I expected, because I hadn’t really planned anything, especially making an offer on a house. She looked, well, kind of pissed off. We walked down the driveway in silence until she just stopped short, turned to me and blurted out, “Cory, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I didn’t really have an answer for that. I shrugged. “I dunno. It’s a perfect house. This spot is beautiful. I thought you liked it, too.”
“It’s gorgeous. What’s not to like? Besides somebody getting murdered here.”
“Not in the house,” I pointed out.
“Did you really think we’d just buy a house and move in after dating for less than a month?” She shook her head, said something under her breath that sounded a lot like “Idiot!” and stomped off down the road.
Holy crap. I wasn’t prepared for that.
I followed her in silence as she walked back in the direction of the car. After about five minutes of me walking behind her like a squaw trailing ten feet behind the chief, she stopped and turned around. She had tears on her face.
“And what would I do for work?”
I smiled. So she had been thinking about it.
With that, she turned and started walking again, fast. I followed her in silence until she spun around again. “And we’re an hour from anyplace! This house is in the middle of nowhere! What would you do for work?” She smacked her hands against her thighs and stared at me, shook her head in disgust and marched off again, only to stop a fourth time and scream at me, “And how the hell are we going to buy a four-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar house?”
I had her. She had said ‘we’. I’d heard it.
“Can I answer these in any order?” I asked as I approached her with great caution, the way I would approach a tripwire. Even mad, she looked so cute.
She squinted and jutted her chin out at me. A tough gal. I love that.
“I have a lot of money in the bank. I’ve been saving for over ten years. My parents also left me and my brother a little bit of money. I can put more than half down, cash, and still have money. As far as work goes, well, I have no idea. I don’t know a damned thing about Harkers Island. Pretty nice house, though, huh?”
She looked away, and I think she was still fighting off tears. Women. Who knows what they’re thinking half the time?
“And I’m just supposed to leave everything in Twin Oaks and move in with you?” I shrugged.
“Um, yeah,” was the best thing I could come up with.
“You’re a complete lunatic,” she said, and turned back toward the direction of the car.
It was a little embarrassing. I mean, what if a future neighbor had been watching this whole scene? After some time had passed, I noticed she had slowed her pace so I would catch up. I slowed mine as well ‘to keep my interval’, as we called it up on the goat trails of Afghanistan.
She eventually stopped and turned around with what I can only describe as a ‘moo-moo face’, and asked me if I was going to walk next to her.
So I did.
Chapter Twelve
Homeowner?
We walked back toward the car, mostly in silence, but at least we were holding hands, so I figured we were temporarily okay. Finally, I guess the silence was too much for her.
“You know we can’t buy that house and move in together, right?”
I shrugged but didn’t say anything. She stopped walking and gave me a surprise kiss, albeit on the cheek. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Cory, which is totally insane after knowing you all of a few weeks, but I’m not ready to move from Twin Oaks to the middle of nowhere and buy a house.”
“First of all,” I responded very calmly, “we have known each other for months—”
She cut me off. “I’m not talking about rehab.”
“I am. I was already crazy about you back then.”
“You didn’t even know me.”
“Say what you want. I’m counting office visits as knowing you—or at least getting to know you. Second, we aren’t in the middle of nowhere. I have been in the middle of nowhere, and trust me. It doesn’t look anything like this. And besides, you can hop in your car and be anyplace you need to be in a little while.”
“We don’t know one person out here, Cory.”
“Good. The only person I want to talk to is right in front of me.”
“I’m serious. We’d go nuts out here. It’s beautiful, but you are totally out of control. You don’t just buy a house like you’re buying a pair of shoes.”
“Tell you what… How about I buy the house, and you can come visit me any time you want. I’ll even give you your own key.”
We got to the car and I opened her door for her, gentleman that I am. She got in without looking at me—a
serious puss back on her face. I closed the door and let out a very long sigh. Now what? My cell phone rang. It was the Realtor. I let it go to voicemail and hopped into the driver’s seat.
“Where to?” I asked.
“Just drive,” she said quietly.
Man. We’d been having such a phenomenal trip. I guessed I’d totally screwed that up. I was waiting for her to say, “Take me home,” but she just sat in deep thought and I drove around the island to the bridge that connected Harkers to the mainland.
When we were just about to cross the bridge, Amanda looked out of her side window and said, “I think it’s almost time for your next feeding.”
I saw the same sign, showing a blue-claw crab. “Joe’s Crab House?”
“Done,” she replied.
Well, at least she was almost speaking to me again. And if she weren’t, at least I’d have some spicy crabs and a few cold beers. How bad could that be?
We pulled into the gravel parking lot. When I reached for the key to cut the engine, Amanda took my arm. Before I knew what happened, we were making out in the front seat. Quite honestly, it was already pretty warm outside, but I think we had the inside temperature of the car up to about a hundred and fifty. A car pulled in next to us. Amanda looked over and saw two little kids with their parents.
“Busted.”
“Does this mean you’re speaking to me again?”
“No,” she replied. “I was just horny and you were the only one here.”
Did I mention I love this woman? She’s as sarcastic as I am—and that’s saying something. I got out of the car and laughed when I saw that she didn’t move a muscle. I walked around and opened the door for her. As she stood, she casually grabbed my dick and gave it a squeeze, then walked toward the restaurant like nothing had happened. She waited at the door for me to open it for her. Quite hilarious.
We walked in and were greeted by a kid who sat us at a window looking out at the bridge.
“I hope the food’s great,” I said, “so when we live here we can come back all the time.” I waited for her to raise her eyebrow. She very politely showed me her middle finger at the edge of the table so no one else could see it, but I saw her smile.
We ordered a dozen ‘jumbos’ and a pitcher of beer, and the waitress laid out a big sheet of brown paper. I love spicy hard shells with enough Old Bay and garlic to make me sweat. Amanda told me she did as well. It was yet another reason to hope she would keep me around.
I waited until we were halfway through the pile of crabs, and more importantly, on our second pitcher of beer, before I broached the subject again. “The Realtor called,” I said matter-of-factly as I sucked out some delicious crab meat. I am pretty sure my face was as messy as hers was.
She looked at me from behind the claw she was sucking on. “When? What did she say?”
“I dunno. I didn’t listen to the message.”
We just kept eating for a while, drinking cold beer to put out the fires in our mouths. Finally, she said, “Well? Are you going to listen to it or what?”
“What if they meet our offer?”
“Your offer. Then I guess you buy a house in East Bumblefuck and I come visit you whenever I feel like it, until we decide we either really like each other or until I stop showing up.”
I sat back and let that sink in a bit. “Seriously, Amanda, I know this is totally nuts. We hardly know each other. But that house— I don’t know. It’s just so perfect. The whole area is gorgeous. It’s peaceful. I need peace.”
A moment passed as I tried to form the next sentence correctly. “Readjusting to civilian life back here in ’the world’ has been harder than I thought it would be. The last couple of days here with you it’s been… I can feel myself calming down. Being hyper-alert has kept me alive for my adult life. But turning that off and becoming a regular human has been tough. PTSD—or whatever you wanna call it. It’s hard to just be a civilian. But this place is quiet and naturally beautiful, like the woman across the table. I can see myself here. I can see myself here with you.”
For some reason, I had a lump in my throat. “I’m not sure what I’d do for work here, but I’m not sure what I’d do for work back in Twin Oaks, either. I honestly have no idea what I want to do, except spend time with you.”
She started getting watery-eyed. I had no idea she was so mushy. Not tough like me. I wiped my eye. Must be allergies.
“This is nuts,” she said.
“It wouldn’t be the craziest thing I ever did,” I said, almost to myself.
“Yeah? What’s the craziest thing you ever did?” she said, obviously trying to change the subject.
“I’m pretty sure it’s totally classified. Let’s just say I have not had a normal life in any way, shape or form.”
“I can get your secrets out of you…” she said in her sexy voice, then proceeded to slowly suck out a crab claw. Man, she kills me. And yes, she could probably get all my state secrets out of me.
I pulled my phone out, pressed the speaker icon and listened to the voicemail message. The nice Realtor with the Southern drawl was going on in her sing-song voice.
“Mr. Wal-kah…I spoke to the owners of that lovely estate home you fell in love with…”
Oh, man, she was laying it on thick. When did it become an estate?
“They ah-hr motivated to sell, as they have already purchased anotha home. It took some doing, but they have agreed to your offah, if you are willing to close quickly. Please give me a call back at your earliest convenience…”
And that was how I bought a house on Harkers Island that had once belonged to a judge who was now Congressman Earl Stone, Presidential hopeful.
Chapter Thirteen
My New Home
A week after I bought the house on Harkers Island, I moved in and started cleaning. I asked Amanda to move in with me no more than forty or fifty times, but she wasn’t quite ready for that. I figured another hundred or so times and she would say yes. Maybe. I didn’t blame her for being cautious. She’d had her share of bad relationships.
She was back at work, and we spoke on the phone a few times every day. I had activated the landline and put it in my name, at Belle’s suggestion. She reminded me that this area was famous for hurricanes. If the power went out for days and I couldn’t charge my cell phone, at least the landline would probably work. It was always nice to find the blinking light on the machine and hearing Amanda’s beautiful Southern twang talking to me. I missed that woman.
The previous owners had left quite a bit of furniture, so I’d inherited a baby grand piano, great patio furniture, all the office furniture, what they called ‘the library’ and the huge old kitchen table, which I absolutely loved. It was made out of rescued barn wood and looked like it was two hundred years old. Maybe Robert E. Lee had eaten on it or something.
Belle stopped by and brought me a houseplant and a bottle of six-dollar wine. She didn’t know I was a wine snob, and I faked being impressed with her bottle of cabernet, but what the heck. It was the thought that counted. I’d use it for making sauce.
When Amanda came down, she was surprised at how nice things looked.
“Nice, Mr. Wal-kah…” Amanda said, doing a perfect impersonation of Belle.
Amanda had a little twang anyway, and now, she sounded so much like the Realtor.
I burst out laughing and bowed very low. “Mr. Wal-kah will be along presently. I am just Mr. Wal-kah’s butler, but I’d be happy to show you out to the back veranda…”
“Ohhh! A back veranda?” she feigned with great drama.
“Well, the rear patio, anyway… Follow me, miss…” I dropped the Southern accent and laughed as I led her out of the back door.
“I think this whole mess started out here in the backyard, if I remember correctly,” she said. “They left you the table and chairs?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a grin.
“Are you going to give me a proper kiss hello or am I driving back to Twin Oaks?” she as
ked with her hands on her hips.
I snatched her up and gave her a proper welcome to my humble abode. After a long liplock, we sat down at the wrought-iron table. I had cut some flowers from the garden and put one of my favorite chardonnays into an antique silver ice bucket on the table. Robert Mondavi ages it in bourbon barrels for a couple of months, and for less than twenty-five bucks, it will knock anyone’s socks off.
I may have to take a trip to Monterrey County one of these days. Anyway, the bottle of white was a starter.
“Impressive,” she said, eyeing the wine and flowers.
“Just wait until you see the bedroom,” I said with my oh-too-sly face.
“I intend to,” she retorted. “Seriously, Cory, I want to see everything! I can tell you did a lot of work.”
We talked a hundred miles an hour for a few minutes while I poured us each a glass of wine to take while I showed her the house. My tour was designed to end in the master bedroom, where my new mattress and box spring had been delivered but had not been officially broken in yet. Notice I didn’t say bedroom set—because there wasn’t a stick of furniture in the master bedroom, just the mattress and box spring. As planned, we broke that in shortly after entering the room.
While we were lying in bed recovering from almost two weeks of abstinence, she asked me about bedroom furniture.
“I thought after I got married, my new wife would want to pick it all out.”
“Oh yeah? Is your fiancée going to be upset when she finds out I’m part of the deal?” We looked at each other, and she ‘shushed’ me the way she usually did, and just curled up with me. We dozed for a bit, and it felt perfect just having her next to me again.
When we woke, we went for round two then took our first shower together in the new house. The master bathroom was awesome. Everything had been upgraded—tiled with Italian marble—all earth-tones and warm colors, with a rainmaker shower. We could have stayed in there for an hour.
In anticipation of her visit, I had stocked the fridge and pantry. I didn’t tell Amanda that to get the grocery shopping accomplished, I’d had to drive almost forty-five minutes to the mainland, which was going to be a pain in the ass for the next fifty years—but would be worth it. Besides being a wine snob, I like to cook and have become decent at it because I also love to eat. If my bedroom antics wouldn’t totally win her over, my cooking would.
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