Tiny House in the Trees

by Celia Bonaduce

“More like bad nights.”

  “Well, Crabby is retired. Maybe he doesn’t have any money.”

  “Crabby is loaded.” Quinn barked a sharp laugh. “Everything he touches turns to gold. When I was a kid, he had four helicopters. Got bored, sold them all, and bought a horse ranch. Sold the horse ranch and bought a traveling amusement park. Got tired of that and bought the restaurant. It was one thing after another.”

  Molly couldn’t figure out what was wrong with that.

  “Maybe he wasn’t bored,” Molly said carefully. “Maybe he just saw one good investment after another.”

  “Everything he did was a gamble,” Quinn said. “He was a gambler. Just like me. But his gambles all paid off. So he thinks he’s better than me.”

  “Did he say he thought he was better than you?” Molly asked.

  “Not in so many words.”

  That didn’t surprise Molly. Crabby never did use many words, no matter what the situation.

  “Are you in serious trouble?” Molly asked softly.

  Quinn looked up sharply. He seemed to have snapped out of some sort of trance. He gave her one of his killer smiles.

  “Don’t you worry about me,” Quinn said, reaching across and taking her hand. “I’m never down for long.”

  Molly decided to change the subject. But she left her hand where it was. Something outside caught the corner of her eye. It was Marni, her ample rear end up in the air as she bent over something on the ground.

  “What’s going on out there?” Molly asked.

  Quinn looked out the window.

  “Oh, that’s just Marni blowing up the air dancers.”

  “I missed that. What is she doing?”

  “You know those air dancers…giant inflatable balloons with arms and faces,” Quinn said, mimicking an inflatable waving his arms. “Car dealerships and new housing developments use them to get attention.”

  Molly nodded. She knew what he was talking about but couldn’t see why Marni was wrestling with one.

  “Beamer’s always puts a couple up for their anniversary,” Quinn continued. “You can see them for miles. They’re a real fixture around Burgoo. The yellow one is called Charlie, the red one is Lucy, and the green one is Seymour.”

  “How do they work?” Molly asked, the civil engineer in her coming out.

  “I don’t know exactly,” Quinn said. “Some kind of electric fan or generator, I guess.”

  Marni stood back as the large yellow tube started unrolling skyward.

  “I thought it would be noisier,” Molly said. “You can’t hear it at all. It’s really interesting.”

  “You know what would be interesting?” Quinn said, still looking out the window at Marni. “More coffee.”

  Marni finally returned to the counter. Quinn’s vibes must have reached her, and she rushed over with a pot of coffee. Molly had questions about the air dancers but figured she was a party of one.

  “Next month should be fun,” Molly said, switching gears again. “Almost time for the first harvest.”

  “If the deer don’t eat all the profits,” Quinn said. “They might have been a nuisance during the summer, but as their food supply dries up at this time of year, the trees seem like an open invitation.”

  Molly let out a sigh. Hard as she tried, she’d found no solution to the deer problem. Manny had given up asking her. He waited for the day Quinn condemned him to spreading the disgusting deer deterrent. Manny had managed to keep Quinn distracted, but now there was no denying the deer were getting more and more bothersome.

  Molly stared down at the air dancer when Old Paint lifted into the sky. With its goofy grin and waving arms, it seemed as if it wanted to tell her something.

  Molly also loved her late afternoons and evenings at Bale’s Tiny Dreams, helping customers visualize what life would be like living tiny. Molly suggested to Bale that she show people the Tower, so they could see a real, lived-in tiny house instead of just a model.

  Galileo was always a hit. Even his antisocial remarks were met with cheer. It was just impossible to be in a bad mood around a tiny house.

  “You’ve got salesmanship in your blood,” Bale told Molly after they locked up the lot.

  “No, I don’t. These homes sell themselves.”

  “Well, they’re selling themselves a lot faster since you got here.”

  Bale was carrying a box from the office to his truck, heading home for the evening. Thor trotted at his heels. Molly had signed for the box earlier in the day. The box was from a company Molly had never heard of, but in the lefthand corner, the name Violet Green jumped out at her. When Molly took the box from the delivery guy, she could tell it was something refrigerated. The box was cool to the touch. She’d contemplated the box all day.

  What was Violet sending?

  Champagne?

  Filet mignon?

  Salmon?

  She finally saw Bale carrying the box to the car.

  “Thanks for signing for this,” Bale said, giving Molly just the opening she needed.

  “No worries,” Molly said. “I could tell it was some sort of cooled stuff. I almost opened it in case I should have put it in the refrigerator or something.”

  “It’s all good,” Bale said. “It has those ice packets that last for days.”

  “Then I thought…” Molly said, following him to the truck. Her curiosity was killing her. “I thought maybe it was lobster, and if I opened it, they might escape.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Bale said. “It’s not lobster. Live lobster is a little rich for my blood.”

  But was it too rich for Violet Green’s blood?

  “Is it one of those boxes of food that comes every month?” Molly blurted.

  Bale stopped and looked at her.

  “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “We Skype all the time and can get to talking for hours about her tiny house design or whatever.”

  Molly felt a tiny nettle under her skin at the “whatever.” Bale was working on Violet’s tiny house at his place. He said it was top secret, which drove Molly crazy. She didn’t want Bale to have secrets from her. She missed part of what he was saying but returned her focus to him.

  “So she bought me one of those healthy foods of the month things. This is the second one I’ve gotten.”

  “I’ve heard of those,” Molly said.

  Bale put the box in the back of his truck.

  “Do you like it?” Molly asked.

  Bale turned to her, surprised.

  “The food?”

  “Yes,” Molly said, wishing she could do something as nice, as extravagant for Bale. He might be building Violet the mothership of all tiny houses, but there was no way Violet could owe Bale more than Molly did.

  “I feel guilty saying this,” Bale said. He looked around as if Violet might hear him. “But it’s really not for me. I unload the stuff and then just eat the ingredients instead of cooking the recipes.”

  Molly smiled.

  “Don’t tell Violet,” Bale said.

  “You know,” Molly said, touching Bale’s arm. “I could cook it for you. We could have dinner together before you went home…or, now that you’re working from your place so much, I could come over and cook when I get home from the farm.”

  Molly saw Bale’s face cloud over.

  “I don’t think you need to come out to my place. It’s all the way on the opposite side of the tree farm.”

  Molly wanted to say she didn’t mind. But Bale’s expression was not exactly welcoming.

  “Now that I’m working out there, it’s kind of a disaster area,” he said.

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I’m not kidding,” Bale said. “I’m thinking I might need more room one of these days. I’m not sure working piecemeal, a little work on the lot, a little work at the house
, is the best business model.”

  Molly felt her heart skip a beat.

  Bale might leave?

  “But you’d stay around here, right?” Molly asked. “You wouldn’t leave Cobb.”

  “I might, I might not.” He smiled. “I mean, practice what you preach, right? I can take my tiny houses anywhere.”

  It struck her that she’d probably be leaving Cobb herself, once she had her degree. Her life had been so crazy she hadn’t thought about it recently. But she couldn’t visualize a place where she wasn’t hanging with Bale.

  “Anyway,” Bale said. “Right now, everything at my place is in complete chaos.”

  “That’s okay,” Molly said. “Violet might not like me cooking for you anyway.”

  “Oh, she wouldn’t care.”

  Molly was surprised how much that comment stung. What was she—chopped liver?

  “But I’ll tell you what,” Bale said, lifting the box back out of the truck. “If you’re serious, let’s eat here. There’s plenty of food. We could try eating in all the different models. Curry in English Cottage one night, vegetable goulash in the Log Cabin the next. It can be kitchen research.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Molly said. “Why don’t we start in the Tower?”

  “Good idea,” Bale said, walking toward the tiny house with the aviary. “You can decide what we eat. But no cauliflower rice. I don’t know what anybody was thinking when they invented that.”

  Chapter 27

  Inspired

  Hopeful

  Ready

  Before she was even fully awake, Molly wrote the words on her hand. The day seemed full of possibilities. The Tower still smelled like edamame stew from the night before. She and Bale had a relaxed evening while she prepared the food, Thor and Galileo blessedly ignoring each other. She hated to admit it: she loved cooking in “her” kitchen, chatting with Bale about what worked design-wise and what could be tweaked. Bale never took offense at any of Molly’s suggestions. She had dinner together in less than twenty minutes.

  “I’d never even heard of edamame,” Bale had said, looking gloomily at the steaming, greenish bowl of food in front of him.

  “Do you like it?” Molly asked, as she sat down across from him at the diminutive table.

  He took a bite and shrugged.

  “I can eat it,” he said. “But this stuff is a strange choice if Violet wants me to keep my strength up. I was sort of expecting meat and potatoes, you know?”

  Another weird pang of jealously struck her.

  What the hell was that about? She should be grateful Bale had a woman who would take care of him.

  But I want to take care of him.

  She’d never had any romantic or proprietary thoughts about Bale. And she better not start having them now, she admonished herself. She was inching towards a relationship with Quinn, and Bale now had Violet.

  “Let’s take the bed out,” Bale said as Molly stacked the dishes in the sink.

  Molly almost dropped the bowl she was holding.

  “Hello, sailor,” Galileo, always one to pick up on Molly’s emotions, chirped.

  “What did you say?” Molly asked, pretending not to hear.

  “Hello, sailor,” Galileo repeated.

  “Not you,” Molly laughed, grateful for the comic relief. She took a deep breath and turned to Bale. “I meant you.”

  “Let’s take the bed out,” Bale said, standing up and snapping the hinged dining room table back against the wall. “I’d completely forgot you said the rolling mechanism needed some work. Let’s take a look.”

  Molly felt her cheeks redden.

  Get over yourself.

  “Oh, I figured out what was wrong and fixed it,” Molly said.

  “No kidding,” Bale said with interest. “Show me.”

  Molly flushed again but pulled out the bed. She and Bale were both on the floor. She snuck a peek at him.

  His interest was clearly in the bed.

  “Two of the screws in the springs were loose. It was a simple adjustment,” she said.

  “That’s great,” Bale said as he pushed the bed back and forth. “You’re amazing.”

  You’re amazing. Why am I just noticing that?

  Bale shoved the bed back under the kitchen and stood up.

  “I better let you get back to your thesis,” Bale said. “I know it’s getting down to the wire.”

  Molly was disappointed, but he was right. She did need to work on the tree house model. They both turned to stare at the miniature tree house, which was by far, notwithstanding Bale, the largest thing in the tiny house.

  “It looks like you’ve finally settled on your design,” Bale said, studying it.

  “Thanks to you,” Molly said as she started to clean up.

  “Why thanks to me?”

  “You gave me a place to live, took the pressure off. I’ve been able to concentrate.”

  “It really is a work of art,” he said, before Molly could get sentimental.

  Molly hugged herself. She never had to remind Bale about her thesis. His interest in her work was genuine.

  “Thanks,” Molly finally said. “I hope Professor Cambridge shares your enthusiasm next month.”

  “Professor Cambridge?”

  “Yeah. He’s my advisor.”

  “I know Professor Cambridge,” Bale said. “Interesting man.”

  “You know Professor Cambridge?” Molly squeaked.

  “It’s a small town, Mols,” Bale grinned. “I see him at the gym all the time. He’s a really smart guy—and he can kick my ass on the treadmill.”

  “Now that the season has changed, I’m thinking about taking the model back to the tree fort,” Molly said.

  “What do you mean?” Bale seems suddenly anxious.

  “I told you about the tree fort,” Molly said. “It’s where that raccoon tried to get in the cage.”

  “I know the place. I was just wondering why you wanted to go back there. It seems dangerous.”

  “Oh, not to live there. Trust me, I’m very happy here.”

  Am I too happy here?

  “Then why go back?”

  “I love being up there. I thought I might take the model up and…I don’t know…I might paint it. The fall colors are deepening, and I think they might inspire me with the palette.”

  “It seems crazy to risk getting the model into the tree,” Bale said.

  “I’ve gotten it in and out several times now,” Molly said. “I’m a pro.”

  “That’s your decision, of course,” Bale said, looking at his watch. “Wow, it’s getting late. I better get home. Violet and I are going to Skype tonight and go over some new plans for her tiny house. As soon as we’ve cemented something, the woman changes her mind.”

  “You don’t have to tell her I made dinner,” Molly said. “If you think it might bother her.”

  “Why would it bother her?”

  Ouch.

  Molly waved to Bale and Thor as the truck left the lot. Bale had bought an extra secure lock for the front gate and flashed his lights, letting her know she was safe for the night. Molly went to bed, rattled that she seemed to be falling for Bale. She refused to even entertain the words “in love”; those words were reserved for Quinn. But Bale’s stock was definitely going up.

  “Good night, Galileo,” Molly said as she collapsed in bed.

  “I love you, Quinn.”

  Molly put her head under the pillow. Should she teach Galileo to say, “I love you, Bale”?

  The morning brought the first cold snap of fall, and Molly felt she had her emotions under control.

  “You be good,” Molly said to Galileo after giving him his breakfast.

  “Bite me,” Galileo said before wolfing down a cabbage leaf left over from the edamame stew.
<
br />   “I hope you appreciate this, Dad,” Molly said, looking heavenward.

  But she knew he did.

  Molly went to the small storage unit attached to the back of the Tower and pulled out the box she used to move the tiny tree house. She brought it inside and realized almost immediately that the new, improved model was too big for the box. It was still early. Bale wouldn’t be around for a while. She knew he would have no objection to her taking one of the myriad boxes he had on the lot, but Molly didn’t want to take even the slightest advantage of him. She still had pangs of guilt for breaking into the tiny house lot. She swore she’d be a better friend.

  But she really needed a box.

  She measured the tree house model and was startled to find exactly how much it had grown. She threw on a sweater and watched her affirmation words slide in and then pop out of the sleeve. She looked around the lot until she found the perfect box.

  She leaned against the tiny log cabin. Should she wait until Bale got to the lot? He didn’t keep regular hours, while she had to get to the tree farm within the hour. But she couldn’t bring herself to just take it. She wanted to cry every time she recalled Bale’s face when he discovered her on the premises that night.

  He’d looked…betrayed.

  She couldn’t ever see that look again. She would work to regain his trust.

  His words suddenly came back to her:

  “Why didn’t you just ask?” he’d said.

  It was early. But Molly could shoot him a text, couldn’t she? If he answered, fine. If not, she’d wait until tomorrow. She was impatient, but she would keep her vow to herself to be a better friend.

  Molly: Hey. Sorry to wake you. I need a box. Can I take one from the lot?

  She waited a few minutes, willing the phone to announce a return text. She was just jamming the phone to her jeans pocket when her phone signaled a text. She looked at it and smiled.

  Bale: You woke me up for cardboard? Take what you want. Thanks for dinner.

  Molly grabbed the box and returned to the Tower. Galileo, busy with his squeaky toy, gave her the side eye, as if to say, “Why are you back?”

  “I’ll be out of your feathers in ten minutes,” Molly said.

  Galileo went back to his toy. Molly looked at him, convinced he knew she couldn’t concentrate when he crunched into its soft center. She’d tried taking it away from him, but he’d learned to mimic the sound, so he was just as annoying with or without it, so she gave it back.