Hope's River

by McHeyzer , Margaret

  “Aunt May? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, dear.” She smiles at Tabitha, then meets my eyes. “Please tell me what that letter said.”

  “I’ve got it next door. Would you like to read it?” May nods, unable to say anything. Shit, was this meant for May? Are the earrings and the contents of the tin container supposed to be hers? I pick my glass up, down what I’ve poured for myself, and run over to the stable to retrieve the tin.

  Meow.

  The cat lifts his head from where he’s sleeping on my bed, meows at me, then lowers his head and falls fast asleep within seconds.

  What a diva cat.

  “Ah, here you are.” I pick the tin up from where I left it, and take it back over to May’s. I find Charlie sitting at the table, looking incredibly guilty about something. Tabitha appears angry and is giving Charlie death stares. May is quietly eating. “What happened?” I ask Charlie directly.

  “Your brother is an idiot,” Tabitha responds with a sobering, murderous coldness.

  “What did you do?” I ask Charlie.

  “I didn’t mean it. I was just asking a question.”

  Instantly, I feel sick. Like me, Charlie doesn’t have the gift of a filter either. He’ll say whatever he thinks without actually thinking. “What did you do?”

  “Tabitha offered some of that salad stuff.” He jerks his chin toward the couscous salad. “And I asked her what kind of salad it is.”

  So far, that doesn’t sound unreasonable or anything for Tabitha to be mad at. “Yeah, and when I told him it was couscous salad, he said, and I quote, ‘What kind of foo-foo frilly crap is this? Where’s the meat and three vegetables?’”

  “You carried out the damn salad,” I say to him.

  “But it’s fancy stuff. The fish, yeah, that looks great. But this salad is for rich, pretentious snobs.”

  “Are you kidding?” Tabitha screeches, clearly upset.

  I smack Charlie on the back of the head. “Come on, man. Don’t be an ass. It might not be what you’re used to, but try it.”

  Tabitha snatches the plate out from under Charlie. “He doesn’t get to try it now. He’s being a dick.”

  “Charlie,” I say through gritted teeth. “Don’t be an ass.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, though it’s a token apology. “I’ll eat whatever you give me. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “You know what? Go make yourself a sandwich. I’m not feeding you.”

  Holy shit, these two are going to tear each other apart. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

  “Apology not accepted. You’re an ass. And, next time I cook, you’re not invited.”

  “Oh come on, darlin,’ don’t be like that,” he pleads.

  Did he really call Tabitha “darlin’”? I look at Tabitha, and see the fury in her eyes. “Charlie, what kind of flowers do you want for your funeral?” I ask trying to diffuse the melting pot of bubbling emotions.

  “I’m sorry, Tabitha. I really didn’t mean anything by it. I mean the salmon tasted so good, please let me finish it. I swear, I’ll never complain again about anything you feed me.”

  “Because I’ll never feed you again.”

  “For the love of God. You two are behaving like horny teenagers. Will you just have sex and get it over and done with?” May snaps at them both.

  My eyes widen, and I try to hold in my smile.

  “I don’t even like her.”

  “I certainly don’t like him.” They point at the other.

  “You’re both foo-foo. Either have sex, or shut up!” May says as she lifts a crooked finger, pointing at both. “Now, may I have a look through the tin, please?” May’s voice calms as she turns to me.

  “Of course, here you go. I was going to go to the library to try and find information about the house.”

  “Where did you find this?” May asks as she opens the tin.

  “Upstairs, in one of the bedrooms.”

  May’s hands shake as she opens the lid, her eyes widen, and I see a small smile stretch her lips. She touches the folded shirt, then carefully lifts it and places it on the table.

  All our dinners are long forgotten as we watch May. She opens the box, and when the gleaming earrings sparkle under the dining room’s recessed lighting she lets out a small sigh. She carefully brings her fingertips up, and gently strokes the earrings. Almost like she’s caressing them. “These are perfect,” she says.

  “They are, aren’t they?” Tabitha says as she leans over to get a better look.

  “I’m going to use the color of the earrings to highlight the house.”

  “Are you?” May looks up to ask. Her happiness is there, for all of us to see. She takes the envelope and flips it around to look at the front. “May I?” she asks.

  “Of course.” She slides the letter out, and settles back in her chair. Her eyes become misty, and quickly she brings her free hand up to cover her mouth. Suspicion rapidly arises. Does she know who this letter was destined for? Could it be her? Did she and Old Roger have a thing? But that really doesn’t make sense, she would’ve been very young, and he would’ve been too old for her.

  “May, are you okay?”

  She looks up from the letter, and a genuine smile spreads across her aging face. “I couldn’t be better.” She folds the letter, and places it back in the envelope. “Thank you for allowing me to read this.” She places the lid back on the tin, and slides it over to me. She then turns to Tabitha. “This meal isn’t foo-foo. It’s simply perfect.” She keeps eating her meal, and I look to Tabitha, then Charlie.

  “Aunt May, are you okay?” Tabitha looks at the tin, then back at May.

  “Oh darling, I couldn’t be better.” She places her palm to Tabitha’s cheek. “Now, can we all eat this beautiful meal Tabitha has prepared for us without any arguing?” She looks at Charlie, then Tabitha.

  “Sorry,” Charlie says in a low voice as he drops his chin. He’s saying a lot of that tonight.

  “Sorry, Aunt May.”

  Sitting down, I keep eating. “May, do you know who wrote that letter? Or who those earrings are meant for?” Please tell me it has something to do with you. I’d love to hear the story behind it.

  “I’m afraid not, girly. It was so beautiful though, it touched me. If I knew, I’d certainly tell you.” She smiles while wetting her lips with her tongue. May glances down at her dinner plate, and squeezes her eyes shut for a brief second. “Now, tell me, how’s the house coming along?” Her gaze darts between Charlie and me.

  “Mmmm,” Charlie mumbles as he shovels some of the couscous salad into his mouth. “It’s good.” He nods.

  “So the foo-foo tastes okay?” Tabitha bites.

  “All I said was…”

  “Charlie,” I scold. He looks at me, and I widen my eyes, then swiftly kick him under the table.

  “Sorry. Yeah, it tastes really good. Thank you for giving me my plate back.” Tabitha half grins, and Charlie turns to May. “The house is going to look so good.”

  “And the plans? Have they been approved?” May asks.

  “Any day now. I’m waiting for them to say we can go ahead and do what we want.”

  “I know some people. I’ll get it approved for you,” May says as she delicately eats her dinner.

  “Thank you. That would be helpful, wouldn’t it, Charlie?” I look over to notice Charlie’s eyes firmly watching Tabitha, whose own gaze is lowered as she stares at her food. Her mouth is moving slowly, chewing. Charlie’s eyes are about to pop out of his head while he’s watching her. Charlie’s lips part slightly as he leans forward.

  I kick him again under the table.

  “What?” he snaps before looking at me and realizing I’ve caught him ogling Tabitha. “Sorry?” his voice cracks.

  “It’s generous of May to talk to the town about the plans for the house, right?”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” He places his knife and fork down, and stands. “Excuse me. Bathroom please?”

  “Down t
he hall to the left,” Tabitha directs.

  “Thank you.” He nearly runs out of the dining room toward the bathroom.

  Did I miss something? First, they fight, and now Charlie can’t take his eyes off Tabitha.

  You know what? I have too much going on in my life to worry about Charlie too. He’s old enough to make his own decisions and take care of himself. He’d better keep it in his pants though, because I really like May, and Tabitha.

  “Come on, do you want some breakfast?” I ask the cat.

  Meow.

  “Of course, you do.” I grab a tin and walk over to the cat’s bowl. Emptying the tin, the cat begins eating. “I suppose I better name you something. What can I call you?”

  The cat stops eating, looks at me with the most self-righteous glare, then meows.

  “Right then, I suppose for now I’ll keep you calling you the cat. It’s not like you can protest, can you?”

  “Are you talking to the cat?” Charlie asks once he’s out of the shower.

  “I’m thinking of naming him, but I don’t know what.”

  “So, you’re keeping it?”

  “I don’t know.” I half shrug. “Anyway, what are you doing today?”

  “I’m just waiting for the go-ahead so I can rip all those walls out. The plan looks really good. This house is going to be massive.”

  “Hopefully May can get us approval quickly. In the meantime, start on removing all the siding, and windows.”

  “I’ll get a team together. Do you think May can get those permits fast-tracked.”

  “I’m actually amazed they’ve stalled us. I thought we’d get them faster. The entire town is behind this remodel, and I honestly expected the permits would have come through already.”

  Meow.

  “Hello, buddy,” Charlie says as he leans down to pat the cat.

  Grrrr. The cat growls, baring his teeth at Charlie. He then turns, and rubs his body up against my leg, purring.

  “Ugh, whatever. I don’t like cats anyway,” Charlie splutters at the cat.

  “You love cats,” I say.

  “Not that one.” He points to the little guy rubbing himself up against my leg.

  “Don’t take it personally, he didn’t like River either.”

  “Yeah? What makes you so special?” Charlie grabs his keys, sits on the sofa and slips his sports shoes on. I look at them, because he knows how paranoid I am about safety. “Don’t worry, I have my steel-toed boots in the truck. I know what you’re like, Hope.”

  I lean down and pet the cat. “I won’t be far behind. I’m stopping in town because I want to look at some paint colors for the house. I’ve got some ideas, but I want to see how they’ll work. And, I’m going to search for some stone for the kitchen counters.”

  “Okay. As soon as you know about the permits, let me know, and I’ll co-ordinate a team.” Charlie leaves, and I’m right behind him.

  Meow.

  The cat is right behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask the cat.

  “You do know they can’t talk back?” Charlie says slowly as if his revealing a big mystery to me.

  “I know. But he’s following me.” I kneel by the front door, and the cat rubs himself up against me again. “You have to stay here.”

  Meow.

  “You’re a weirdo,” Charlie calls as he walks to his truck.

  The cat runs ahead of me, goes to my truck, and jumps in the bed. “I’m the weirdo?” I point to the cat. Charlie flicks his hand at me, waving as he drives off.

  I get to my truck, and look at the cat curled up in the back. “I’m going to have to buy you a harness so you don’t jump out while I’m driving.”

  Meow.

  “Maybe you should get in the truck, that way I know you won’t jump out.” The cat curls up, and makes himself comfortable. “Just get in the truck.” I watch as he looks around, completely ignoring me. “Fine, but if you get hurt, it’s on you. I’m not rushing you to the vet.”

  Meow.

  “Who am I kidding, of course, I’ll rush you to the vet.”

  Meow.

  “Shut up and stay in there. Don’t move.”

  Meow.

  Stupid cat.

  I pull up at the place I found about twenty-five minutes from Old Roger’s house that has a variety of stone. I’m still deciding if stone is what I want for the house’s counters. Or butcher block, or maybe concrete.

  Getting out of the truck, I look in the back to make sure the cat is still there.

  Meow.

  Before I can even turn away, the cat is beside me, circling around my feet.

  “I’m not holding you, so you better get back in the truck so you don’t get hurt.”

  Meow.

  “Go.” I tap the back, trying to get him to jump up. Nope, he won’t move. “Fine, but if something happens…” I walk away, and I sneak a look behind me, to find the cat is actually following. “Alright. Well, keep up.”

  I head into the showroom, and the cat is right beside me. “Hello there,” an older gentleman comes over to me. He looks down and sees the cat. “Now that’s a first. A customer bringing their cat with them,” he says with a chuckle.

  “Trust me, this cat is a pain in the butt. He won’t go back in the truck.”

  “So, he’s a dog-cat?” He laughs.

  “I suppose he is.”

  Meow.

  “What can I do for you today?”

  “I’m renovating a house, and I’d like to look at the selection of stone you have. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going with it yet, but if something catches my eyes, I might buy it. I’m nowhere near ready for installation though, so if I do buy something, can you keep it on premises?”

  “Of course. What size do you need?”

  I take a deep breath and take out my measurements from the plans I’ve drawn up. “But, I’m also looking for the bathrooms too.”

  He looks down at the measurements, and grimaces. “This is massive.”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  “Let me take you out to the yard, and I’ll show you what we have.” He leads me down the back of the showroom, and out to a mammoth outdoor yard. All I can see is different variants and grades of stone. “What types aren’t you after, so we can bypass those.”

  “Laminates and tiles are completely out. I’m looking for either marble or granite. But I’m not a hundred percent committed to either.”

  “I hear you. Let me show you what we have, and we can go from there.” He stops and points to the right. “Here’s all the marble we have. It goes down to where that exit door is.” Then he starts moving again. “We have granite on this side. We’ve got a more extensive range in granite.”

  “Wow, this is nice.”

  “Is there a color you’re after?’

  “Something light. I’d like a small amount of veining, nothing too over the top, because I’m thinking of deep green lowers, and white uppers.”

  “Green?” he asks, surprised.

  “I know, seems crazy. But I actually found a pair of diamond and emerald drop earrings in the house. So, I’m using their coloring for inspiration.”

  He’s nodding. “Well, I’ve heard crazier. But it’s your house, and if you want green lowers, get yourself green lowers.”

  “Actually, it’s a house I’m renovating, then selling.”

  “You’re a house flipper? There are so many houses out here that need some love. Where did you buy?”

  “Over in Hope River.”

  “Oh, not that old, decrepit house that’s falling apart? It’s down on…let me think. Is it Clayton Street?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one I’ve bought.”

  “Wow. I’m totally impressed. That place…” He shakes his head. “Takes someone with a lot of patience and more importantly knowledge to renovate that house.” He runs his hand through his thinning hair.

  “My brother wanted to tear it down.”

  “He’s a smart person. Should’ve
listened to him.”

  I laugh. “I couldn’t. There’s something beautiful about bringing something so old back to life. Anyway, the townspeople would’ve crucified me.”

  “Funny thing about towns. They don’t want to do the work, but they’re there to tell you how to do it.” He chuckles again. “Small towns, eh?”

  I walk down the aisles, and a slab of marble catches my eye. “Oh, I love this. The gray marbling and veining through it is beautiful. I have to say, this is one of the prettiest pieces of marble I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thank you,” the guy says proudly. “And that’s one of our most expensive too. This one will run you near six thousand dollars.”

  I let out an audible breath. “Six thousand.”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s Calacatta Oro. Let me measure it up, make sure it’s the size you’re after. It might be too small.” He unclips a tape measure from his belt, and measures the length and width. He looks at the plan I’ve drawn up. “This one will be enough for all the counter spaces in your kitchen. But not enough to do all the bathrooms.”

  “It’s so pretty though.”

  “At six thousand, you’d want it to be beautiful. We do have cheaper options.”

  “Nah, I’m afraid now that I’ve seen this one, I simply love it. Alright. Put a sold sticker on it. I’ll take it.”

  “Great, follow me, and we’ll get the paperwork started. Are they your exact measurements?”

  “I might change my mind. So, let’s not cut it yet.”

  He chuckles. “I can do that.” He looks over his shoulder to me, then drops his eye level to beside me. “This cat of yours, what’s his name?”

  “I have no idea. He’s adopted me. I think he came with the house.”

  “Seems like this is more than just a house flip to you. Diamond and emerald earrings, a cat…what else will you find?”

  There’s another thing waiting for me, one thing I can’t have. River.

  There’s a buzz at the house today. Sure enough, May worked her magic and came through with approved plans. Charlie has rallied together a crowd of people, none of whom I know.

  “Where did you find these guys?” I ask.

  “I’m skilled in the art of people finding,” he says as he stands beside me and crosses his arms in front of his chest.