My stomach’s growling a little after one when I finally finish and take a break to get something to eat. I pick up a sub from a local shop and take it to a local park, where I sit at a shaded picnic table under the large, sweeping arms of an oak tree.
Can’t remember the last time I just…relaxed. The past three years were a senseless escape from my pain while chasing an impossible goal. Once this assignment is completed, I can focus on forcing my personal life out of neutral.
So far this morning I haven’t discovered anything that would complicate the deal. The prospective buyer is a developer who wants to build a shopping plaza for ten to twelve businesses, with a free-standing anchor store, like a chain restaurant or market or bank. This would bring jobs and business to Maudlin Falls, benefitting many of the existing businesses in town with more customer traffic, as well as helping residents who currently have to travel to nearby towns for work find jobs closer to home, and bring their shopping dollars closer to home, too. Plus, I was told by the developer that nothing in the new shopping plaza would directly compete with anything currently in town in a negative way.
The property will have to be rezoned, of course, but because of where it’s located, that shouldn’t be a problem. It’s better than a housing development going in there, which I’m certain the town would vehemently protest.
They successfully blocked one such development the year before I left.
I know, because I helped the community organizers with it. Unofficially, of course. I didn’t want my name on that, because I didn’t want anyone thinking I was trying to capitalize on free publicity or something, but I won’t deny the pride I felt when they won and got it shut down.
They even found someone who wanted to purchase the land to sell hunting leases, meaning it’ll stay undeveloped. The county even placed a conservation easement on it, meaning the new owner gets one really sweet deal in property taxes every year. Eventually, they’ll probably build themselves a house there, but that’s well within the acceptable zoning usage.
The area surrounding Maudlin Falls is comprised mostly of farms and woodland. Deer hunting is very popular certain times of the year and is another source of income for regional locals.
As I look around, I deeply breathe and realize I don’t smell exhaust fumes, or hear the steady drone of traffic noises. None of the usual pulse of a city, whether New York or Miami.
I hear birds and the gentle breeze rustling the upper branches of my current shade.
Peaceful. A far cry from my usual hectic life.
I mostly live in Miami, although I have a small studio apartment in New York area. I fly back and forth between the cities fairly regularly, sometimes multiple times in a week. I rarely spend my weekends in New York unless I have an early Monday morning meeting or court appearance there.
What does it say that I don’t miss either city right now? Despite my anxiety over what happens next in my life, it’s almost a relief to be here. I didn’t realize how much I needed to just sit and be for a little while. Seeing the falls this morning brought everything back with blinding, aching clarity.
I take my time eating. I’m in no hurry to make my way out to Keith Barnes’ farm just yet. He doesn’t know it’s me who’s been assigned to handle this. I told the admin assistant at work who set up the appointment to fib and to say she wasn’t sure who the assigned attorney would be yet.
I also bribed her to keep that quiet, too.
No, I didn’t expound upon why I was bribing her, either. My business is just that. Besides, I don’t want word about my presence here leaking to Freddy. I told him I’d be handling this late next week because of another case I’m wrapping up first. He’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer but, if he knew I was here right now, he would immediately assume I was hooking up with Tomas and do his level best to sabotage me at every turn. He’d already been “hinting” that he wanted to come with me to “help” me with the case.
Which is all bullpucky, of course.
Needless to say, there’s a lot on my mind right now.
Once I finish my lunch, I sit there with my phone in hand and stare at the last picture I took of the two of us together.
Me and Tomas, that is. Not Freddy.
Hell, I don’t even think I have a pic of me and Freddy, and doesn’t that just say something?
The last time I saw Tomas in person, he flew into Miami and spent New Year’s weekend with me.
That was two years ago.
The last time I saw him in person and not in a video chat.
From that point on, when I tried to talk him into coming for a visit, there were always—legitimate, mind you—excuses because of work. And he tried to get me to come home for visits.
I mean, to Maudlin Falls.
But it wasn’t really my home anymore. I usually had cases and clients that kept me too busy to get away for a visit, and the time simply…got away from me.
We never really broke up. We just sort of paused and never restarted. There were no angry words, no recriminations, no hurtful things said that were impossible to take back.
No real closure.
The frequent video chats and phone calls slowly shifted to calls and texts, which transitioned into texts and e-mails.
And then…
One day, over a week had gone by since I realized I hadn’t heard anything from him. Then another.
And another.
I guess I was afraid to push for fear he’d bring up a finite conclusion.
In some ways, if we didn’t have closure, it would mean we were still…
Well, us.
Hell, I still have keys to his house. Unless he’s changed the locks since I was last here.
He did tell me when I moved that if I found someone else he’d understand. But…
Yeah.
Hell, I haven’t even slept any other guys. Not for a lack of trying on Freddy’s part, either. I always had excuses—sometimes legitimate ones—for not doing the deed with my partners.
Especially Freddy.
Which was another reason I broke up with Freddy. He gave me an ultimatum about wanting to sleep together and I told him he was free to move on to greener pastures, hoping he’d take me up on the offer and spare me having to do it, because I knew he’d then be a pain in my butt.
I wasn’t that lucky and had to drop the hammer when he immediately backtracked and tried to sweet-talk his way into my bed since I proved immune to his relationship version of “shock and awe.”
Now, on my personal phone, I have his calls set to ignore them so they go to voice mail. Unless it’s something to do with work, I’ve refused to talk to him since I ended things with him. And I won’t talk to him outside of the office, either.
Unfortunately, that means any time I’m in the Miami office, he’s practically stalking me and shows up all the time. He keeps begging me to get back together and I keep telling him no.
I think part of Freddy’s problem about not moving on is that he’s never had someone tell him no before, and now he sees me as a challenge to conquer.
Closing my eyes, I slowly inhale, letting the sweet smell of freshly mown grass mix with the pleasantly sharp pine and it brings back so many memories.
I can only pray new memories might soon follow. But before I can approach Tomas, I need to finish this job and clear it from my plate.
Before I fall apart, in case Tomas tells me to go to hell.
Chapter Five
Tomas
The rest of the morning isn’t too chaotic, but the store is steadily busy enough to keep me distracted and not ruminating on Kelly’s comments about Desiderio.
I miss him. I love him, and I’ve never stopped loving him. To the point that, honestly? I’ve never started looking for someone else. Not really. Not seriously.
Which is stupid, I know. He’s obviously over me and has moved on.
Maybe I should reach out to him. Except I don’t want to do that just to find out he’s moved on. He’s probably m
oved on.
Right?
He wanted his career. I can’t blame him for that. He couldn’t make anywhere near the money he is now if he’d stayed here. And commuting wasn’t exactly an option. Not when his time is split between New York City and Miami. Two completely different states.
While he offered to pay for me to fly to either place to spend time with him, I didn’t feel right about that. And it’s not in my budget to make trips like that every month. Plus, I don’t have the time for it.
Something had to give. I’m okay not being rich. My bills are paid, my house is paid for, my business is doing well, and I can treat my employees fairly. I can pay them all on time and I pay them first, actually, before I pay my own salary. If I ever came up short, I’d be paying them before anything or anyone else got paid.
Luckily, that’s never been an issue.
If I had to compete with a big-box store here in town, yeah, that might put a dent in my bottom line. But I don’t. There’s not even a Walmart or Target in town that might compete with me in some ways. Not even the Dollar Holler is true competition.
When people need a new grill or smoker, they come to me first. Or when they’re looking for outside holiday decorations. Or new garden implements—anything like that, really. The extra little money they spend with me is more than made up for in the gas and time they save not having to drive somewhere else to pick it up, or ordering it online and waiting for it to arrive.
Everyone’s a winner.
I take my lunch break a little early today. I don’t want to be interrupted by a dozen Methodist group ladies trying to fix me up with their sons, grandsons, and nephews.
Yeah, been there, done that. They’re sweet and mean well but chances are if they are locals and floated my boat, I’d already be with them.
I tell everyone I’m heading out and make my way home, letting myself in the front door, where Jester’s waiting to twine himself around my ankles as I come in.
“Maow!”
“All right, you little fiend. What other surprises do you have in store for me today?” I carefully pick my way down the hall to the kitchen because I don’t want to accidentally step on him where he’s still wrapping himself around me like an orange and white pair of purring socks.
As I stand in the kitchen doorway and scan for managed mischief, I don’t spot anything amiss, at first. The pantry door is still closed.
But when I walk around the kitchen island, I spot several of his catnip toys on the floor right next to the pantry door.
I stare down at him. “What are you doing? Offering tribute to the pantry peanut butter gods in hopes they’ll open the door for you?”
He blinks up at me and meows.
“You’re weird,” I say as I open the pantry door. Then again, who am I to judge?
Here I am, talking to my cat.
Jester darts inside the pantry as I open the door. Just in case he tries anything, I move the peanut butter to a higher shelf and then reach for a can of chicken to make chicken salad.
He plops down and stares up at me as I do all of this, accusation in his eyes.
“No peanut butter for you.” I shoo him out of the pantry and firmly close the door but he stands there and rubs his head against it and starts meowing up at me.
I wish I could call Desiderio and tell him about this. I miss our chats.
There’s a lot I miss about him.
I guess he doesn’t miss me all that much, though.
* * * *
At twenty ’til two, Carole Lee Davison arrives. We organize a monthly activity for them here and she always is the first to arrive. Today, it’s even before the instructor gets here.
She knocks on my office doorway and smiles at me as her long, grey hair cascades down over her shoulder. She reminds me of a hippie, in some ways. The retired accountant is a willowy five-seven, but she’s always dressed to the nines when out and about.
“We should have a full house today,” she says. “Terry heavily promoted it on the station yesterday and today.”
My back pops and creaks as I sit back in my chair. “How much did that cost you?”
She playfully smiles as she shrugs. “I’ve started handling his taxes for him in exchange for free promos for us. Doesn’t take that long. He’s pretty organized.”
“Smart.”
She steps in and drops her voice. “So Desiderio’s back, hmm? Will we be seeing more of him?”
It literally takes me a moment to process what she said. “I…what?”
Confusion fills her face. “He’s back in town, isn’t he? Herb mentioned to Ellinor he spoke with him this morning. Didn’t recognize his car, at first. Herb saw him on the side of the road this morning when he was out mowing one of his pastures and thought Desiderio was broke down, but he’d just pulled over to make a phone call.”
She starts to say something else when Ellinor Sanctum appears in the doorway behind her. “Make sure to tell Desiderio I said hi! It’ll be so nice having him around again.” She scowls. “Or is it just a visit?”
I’m not one usually stunned into silence. I must also be wearing “a look,” because both women tip their heads to the side as they stare at me.
“Tomas, what’s wrong?” Carole Lee asks.
Slowly sucking in a deep breath buys me a moment to force back the chill growing inside me. “Herb…saw Desiderio? You’re sure it was him? He’s sure?”
My heart wants to leap at the thought my guy’s in town…only to be immediately slaughtered by the thought that he hasn’t bother to, oh, contact me and let me know that fact.
Ellinor nods. “He didn’t recognize him at first because he’s driving a different car, and…” Her voice trails off. “Wait. He hasn’t contacted you?”
I stand and realize my hands are shaking. I tap the screen of my personal cell, just to make sure I haven’t missed any calls or texts, but there aren’t any.
Not from Desiderio.
Carole Lee’s expression darkens and she lays a hand on Ellinor’s arm. “You know, maybe he just looked like Desiderio to Herb.”
I’ll give Ellinor credit for being fast on the uptake. “He did say the guy didn’t seem to recognize him,” Ellinor adds. “And he said the guy had an accent. I mean, Herb could’ve been mistaken. I’ve been on him that he needs to get new glasses. He’s like a year overdue for a new prescription. But he thought with the Florida license plate—”
She falls silent when Carole Lee pokes her in the arm.
I pocket my personal cell and force a smile. “Ladies, I hope you enjoy today’s program. Sorry, I just remembered I need to do something downstairs.” They move out of my way as I quickly slip past them.
The last place I want to be is up here with the entire Methodist women’s group hypothesizing whether or not it was Desi, and the implications if it is him and he hasn’t contacted me.
I turn. “I’m sure it wasn’t him,” I say. “If it was, he would’ve let me know he was coming, and he hasn’t. If that was this morning, he would’ve been here by now. I went home for lunch—he would’ve stopped by.”
Carole Lee and Ellinor are both nodding now and I sense their barely bottled energy. They both want to talk about this with each other and simultaneously let me have my pride. “You’re right, hon,” Carole Lee says. “I’m certain Herb was wrong.”
But I head downstairs quickly, taking the long way around via the outer aisles so I can avoid anyone heading down the center aisle and to the stairwell. I let everyone know I need to run some errands and I quickly head out at a brisk walk toward home. Across the street, at Alacea’s Diner, I spot several of the women from the group emerging and crossing the street toward my store.
Now I’m wishing I drove to work today.
It takes every last ounce of self-control I have not to break into a sprint and call more attention to myself. Part of me wants to call Desi right now and find out for sure. Except that means I’m still torturing myself.
That was hours ago.
There’s no way he’d be in town for hours and not come find me, right? Not like I’m hard to find. He obviously knows where the house is—heck, he’s still got keys. And he knows dang well where the store is. Can’t miss it.
No, he wouldn’t do that. Especially if he made contact with a local who’d know him.
It cannot be him. Logic and reason tell me that.
My heart, on the other hand, has just had the rug yanked out from under it at the realization that I am in no way doing “okay.”
I lock myself inside and lean against the front door, sucking in deep breaths to try and slow my pulse.
Jester, his feet softly padding on the hardwood floors, comes running down the hall from the kitchen and practically slides to a stop in front of me, where he sits and wraps his tail around his haunches.
Looking up at me, he meows.
I scoop him into my arms, bury my face in his fur, and cry.
Obviously, I’m not over the guy yet. I don’t think I’ve even started getting over him. I’m still stuck in…stasis.
Maybe I should go to book club tonight and let Edith ply me with blueberry pie.
Then again, maybe I should run up to Colley to a liquor store there, pick up enough to get me good and drunk tonight, and just plan on taking the day off tomorrow. I did work over the weekend and mentioned yesterday I might take time off during the week.
Or, maybe while I’m in Colley, I should look up the counselor I called a few months back and see if they can fit me in for an appointment.
Because I have a feeling if I’m this raw and shredded over a misidentification, it means I seriously need some help.
Although reaching out for help from others has never been my strong suit. I tend to build walls and put up facades so people don’t worry about me.
The only person I let my guard down with…was Desiderio.
And I don’t even have him anymore.
Chapter Six
Desi
I don’t need the GPS on my phone to chart my course to Keith Barnes’ farm. I know the way.
In fact, I go out of my way to take a longer, roundabout route to get there. Less chance of me running into anyone else I know before I’m ready for my presence in town to be revealed.
How Many Times Do I Have to Say I'm Sorry? (Maudlin Falls) Page 4