The Country Guesthouse

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The Country Guesthouse Page 3

by Robyn Carr


  “Okay,” he said. “It would be better for me if she was here.”

  “I know, buddy. I know.” She hugged him close. “You know what? Screw work and responsibility. We have a vacation coming up. I rented us a huge cabin, a beautiful cabin on a beautiful lake in the Rocky Mountains, and it’s amazing. There are lots of elk. I mean lots. What do you say? Should we take a vacation before we do all this work of settling in? We need time together, you and me.”

  “Okay. Hannah, but is screw one of those words you’re not supposed to say?”

  “Probably. I’ll have to read up on that.”

  Be sure you put your feet in the

  right place, then stand firm.

  —Abraham Lincoln

  2

  It had taken a lot of planning and organization to move Noah to Hannah’s Minneapolis house. All his clothes and toys were transferred and Hannah held on to a few of Erin’s things—some everyday dishes, a few books, a couple of cozy sweaters, some quilts and blankets and her journal. The entries were few and spotty, but one day she would share it with Noah. They had to see new doctors and meet with her lawyer to establish her as his legal guardian. They met with a physical therapist, who gave her a pamphlet that showed the at-home exercises they could do to strengthen his legs. During that time they spent several weekend days and evenings with Sharon and Kate and their families to help Noah get a sense of belonging, to ease his loneliness. Sharon’s and Kate’s kids were wonderful with him.

  Some nights were hard. The first time she heard him crying for his mom, she went to his room, scooped him up and carried him to her bed. They cuddled each other to sleep. But Noah could barely walk without his leg braces and crutches, so if he wanted to get up in the night, Hannah had to carry him. And if he wanted to wander to her room, he put on his braces to get there, then nearly broke her shins with his heavy shoes when he crawled into bed. Sometimes they cried together and sometimes they laughed, and they talked a lot about Erin.

  There was nothing on earth better able to drive the thought of Wyatt and a failed relationship from her mind and heart like the company of a little boy. It was only days before she thought she wouldn’t be able to live without him.

  Hannah was emotionally and physically exhausted and worried about a lot of things she couldn’t control, but she was so happy to be packing for a real retreat. She was grateful she’d been too busy to cancel that rental. She thought she’d be going alone, using the time to heal from her breakup with Wyatt, but now she and Noah would have each other. They could explore, read, watch movies, go fishing, get to know each other better. Then the phone rang and the Realtor who had booked the beautiful house said the owner’s trip had been canceled and he would be staying in his studio on the property. If that was not acceptable to Hannah, she could look around for another place.

  “He’ll be there?” Hannah asked.

  “Yes, this has happened a couple of times. He has a spacious shop and guesthouse, where he works, and says he has no problem with renting you the house. He won’t access the house while you’re there. He won’t be a bother. On the other hand, if you have a problem, you can knock on his door. He’ll be right across the yard. But it’s entirely up to you.”

  “I feel awkward taking his house,” she said.

  The Realtor laughed. “Oh, Ms. Russell, you’re paying top dollar for that beautiful house. The owner doesn’t mind, but the final decision is yours. I can try to find you an alternate residence. Or I’d be happy to give you a refund.”

  She had longed for that space, and now she had Noah and a need to escape to help them heal and bond. “I have a five-year-old son,” Hannah said. It was the first time she had claimed him thusly. “Can you vouch for his character?”

  “Absolutely. Owen Abrams is a fine man. He’s well-known around the lake and town. If this worries you, remember you can call my cell day or night, but I don’t think you’ll have a single problem. In fact, if you do have a question or problem, like the Wi-Fi is out or you can’t find the remote for the TV, he’s right on the property. Owen is very hospitable.”

  “Owen,” she repeated. Yes, that was the man Helen mentioned. She pictured an older person, maybe around Sully and Helen’s age. Maybe Owen would be grandfatherly toward Noah, which would be so welcome, since he didn’t have any experience with a grandparent. Erin’s mother had never spent any time with Noah; Hannah wasn’t sure if Noah even knew she existed. At the thought of seeing Sully and Helen again, her decision was made.

  * * *

  “Am I going to school from your house?” Noah asked Hannah.

  “Eventually, but we have the whole summer first and we have so many things to see and do.”

  “It’s okay if we don’t do anything,” he said.

  That’s probably what depression or grief sounds like in a five-year-old, Hannah thought. “We’re going to do all kinds of stuff,” she said. She knew the fresh air and sunshine and lake would be good for both of them. “First, let’s get our clothes packed, and then we can decide what toys and electronics to take. The house has TVs all over the place, but we’re not going to sit in front of the TV. And there’s Wi-Fi but no computer so we’ll take my laptop and tablet. We’re going to want to buy fishing stuff when we get there. We should buy new bathing suits before we go!” She made a face. “I suppose I’m going to have to learn how to put a worm on a hook.” Then she shivered all over, making a terrible face. And Noah laughed.

  So there was the lesson. Just look like a ridiculous fool and it would tickle him.

  She sighed. It was going to be a very long summer.

  They packed everything up and started off in the car. If it were just Hannah or Hannah and a girlfriend, they’d push it, make it in a day and a half or less, but with a five-year-old, there were many stops. If it were just Hannah, the radio would be blasting out the latest tunes, but instead she kept the volume down and played an audiobook or podcast. Noah put on his headphones and watched a movie or two. They ate ice cream in the car.

  “My mom never let me eat in the car,” he said.

  “We’re on vacay,” she replied with a big smile.

  Sharon called during the drive and Hannah answered with, “You’re on speaker.”

  “How is the trip going so far? Noah?”

  “It’s okay. We eat ice cream in the car.”

  “Fabulous! Are you seeing anything interesting?”

  “No. It’s only cornfields. Cornfields forever.”

  It was toward the end of the first day of driving that Noah said, “Hannah, will you tell me things about my mom?”

  “What kinds of things, honey?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “The regular stuff. Just how she was. So I don’t forget the regular stuff. You know?”

  She did know. He might not be able to articulate it but he wanted to be reminded of her, the woman who was his mom and her best friend. The ordinary things that made her a whole person.

  “Hmm. She always smelled so good—a little like flowers and soap and maybe some lotion. Purple was her favorite color. There was so much purple in your house! She was left-handed. Do you remember that? So sometimes when she was chopping up stuff for dinner she was terrifying—it looked like she was about to cut her fingers off. She ate tomatoes like apples—she’d lick the outside skin, sprinkle a little salt on the wet spot and go after it. Lick, sprinkle, bite. I remember when she decided to knit a sweater,” Hannah said with a laugh. “Oh God, that was hilarious! She had the biggest knotty mess going on there and she was so determined, she actually finished it. One sleeve was three inches longer than the other! Horrible!” Hannah giggled and Noah joined her. “Now that I think of it, she had a number of half-done crafts around the house. She hooked half a rug. She did half a crewel picture, a couple of petit points that would never become throw pillows, and she collected a lot of fabric for a quilt that she just didn’t get ar
ound to. She liked to read, talk on the phone, always had her laptop open on the coffee table. She sat on the floor a lot. I hate the floor. I want something soft under me, a nice soft couch. And she was a girlie girl—she liked ruffles and lace and flowers and lipstick. She always got her nails done—fingers and toes...”

  “She said people at work noticed her hands because she was at the desk, moving papers around,” he put in.

  “That’s right, because she worked in an office, gestured with her hands while she talked...”

  “She had a cowlick,” he said. “In front. I have a cowlick in back.” He pointed to his crown.

  “I didn’t know that,” Hannah said.

  “Did you know about the tattoo?” he asked.

  “I did!” she said with a laugh. “I thought she was crazy to do that.”

  “She was gonna do one more,” he informed her. “One you could see without pulling her pants down. It was gonna be for me.”

  “Awesome,” Hannah said. “Just knowing that she wanted to do that is almost as good as if she did.”

  “Almost,” he said quietly.

  “She read all the time, late into the night. She didn’t watch too much TV. If it was a good book, she would read at stoplights. She would tell me about every book she was reading and she couldn’t fall asleep until she did one more page, one more page, one more page. I do that, too. Do you love to read?”

  He shrugged his shoulders as she watched his reflection in the rearview mirror. “My mom used to read to me.”

  “We’re going to do some reading together this summer, okay? We’ll find amazing, wonderful books about adventures and stuff and we’ll read together. We could go to the nearest library. Maybe you’ll catch the bug. But for right now, watch for a McDonald’s. I’m thinking fries.”

  “Yeah, I could think that,” he said.

  And Hannah said a silent prayer. Oh, please, God, help me with this. I am not good enough for this boy, at least not now. He deserves better.

  * * *

  Their first day of driving was long, and the second day they got up early, had a big breakfast and hit the road running. Noah spent a lot of time with his headphones on, watching movies or falling asleep, and they didn’t stop as many times as they had the first day. When they were within an hour of the house, Hannah pulled into a grocery store lot. “Almost done for the day, kiddo,” she said. “We’ll need some groceries. And I need your help because I’m not sure what all your favorite foods are.”

  “’Kay,” he said, unstrapping himself from his safety seat.

  She went around to help him out of the SUV’s back seat but he brushed her hands away and managed to get out on his own. He might be slow and stiff-legged, given the braces, but he was confident and self-sufficient. They loaded up on groceries and headed for the house. “I hope you like this place,” she said, buckling him in. “It’s beautiful. It has lots of books. And we have Netflix so maybe tonight we can watch a movie.”

  “’Kay,” he said.

  “You pretty tired, buddy?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I was wishing Mom could come.”

  “Me, too,” Hannah said. “But we’ll have fun, I think. There’s a campground on the other side of the lake and I met the people who run it. We’ll check it out. Maybe there will be kids there, camping with their parents. Maybe you’ll make friends.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Usually I just have Linda’s kids or the teachers because...” He stopped and shrugged.

  “Because?” she pushed.

  “I’m not very fast,” he said.

  “You’re getting stronger and better every day. We’ll work at it, Noah. Your mother said you wouldn’t have to wear the braces forever. She said your condition is mild, that you’ll be walking without braces before you know it.”

  “I’ll know it,” he said.

  “Let’s buy all of our supplies and then we’ll get set up at the house and plan our adventures,” she said.

  It wasn’t long until they pulled into the clearing and she watched Noah’s reaction to the majestic cabin. “Look at that,” he said, straightening. “It’s like a castle! Made of logs!”

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, thrilled to her very marrow that she had somehow pleased Noah. There it sat atop a long lot that sloped ever so slightly toward a crystalline blue lake, a wooden dock stretching out from the shore. There was a small building that looked a little like a stable that she guessed it was the owner’s shop and guesthouse. “Wait till you see it inside!”

  “And look at that lake!” he said. “Are there horses in that barn?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she said. “That’s where the owner works.” But at that moment she’d cash in her retirement for horses for Noah.

  She came around to his side in case he wanted help to get out. But, once again, he brushed her aside. He was happy and excited to be done with the drive. And just as Noah was getting out, a very large dark brown dog appeared. His ears were upright and pointed, his legs spindly, and his head was square with a wet pink tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  “Whoa!” Noah said, hanging on to Hannah so he wouldn’t fall. “Hey, look at you,” he said, just as the Great Dane stuck his wet nose into Noah’s face. “You’re bigger than me!”

  There was a whistle and a shout. “Romeo!”

  The dog backed away, looking for all the world like he might be embarrassed.

  “Hi. Ms. Russell?” a very tall man asked. “I’m Owen Abrams.”

  “Oh, hello,” she said. “I didn’t know I’d see you today.”

  “What kind of dog is that?” Noah asked.

  “This is Romeo. He’s a Great Dane,” Owen said. “He’s very nice and extremely friendly but you have to watch out—he can be clumsy and he’s so big it can be a catastrophe. He loves kids and sometimes he loves them too much.” Right on cue, Romeo almost licked Noah’s face off. But Noah laughed wildly and immediately put his arms around Romeo’s neck.

  “And your name is?” Owen asked.

  “Noah,” he said, hanging on to Romeo. “I didn’t never have a dog.”

  “He’s a good dog,” Owen said. “He’s a rescue. He’s been with me five years now and he’s almost six years old. That’s his full adult height and he’s off the charts, but he’s gentle. And sweet. It’s just that he’s clumsy, like I said. He sometimes knocks people over just saying hello.” Then he said to Hannah, “Let me help you get your stuff inside, and then I’ll leave you to your vacation.”

  “You’re living in that barn there?” Noah asked.

  “Yes, it’s nice inside and I have everything I need. I love the house but I admit, sometimes it just swallows me up.” He pulled a couple of grocery sacks out of the back of the SUV.

  “Come on, Noah, let’s get you up the stairs onto the porch while I unload,” Hannah said. “You can call Romeo to come with you if it’s all right with Owen. Once you’re up the stairs.” Then she handed him the crutches.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Owen was frozen, watching Noah walk stiff-legged toward the stairs. He frowned and met her eyes. She smiled at him.

  “It’s all right with me and I am sure it will be fine with Romeo,” Owen said.

  Hannah got Noah situated on a deck chair. Then she clicked her tongue against her teeth to call the dog. He lumbered up the stairs and slowly went to Noah, sitting down politely beside him, patiently accepting the boy’s petting.

  Hannah tried the door to the house. It was unlocked, probably because Owen was home. She’d been told the key would be under the mat—great security system. Then she went down the steps to unload their groceries and luggage. “Don’t let that big dog eat you,” she told Noah on the fly.

  It took a few trips, even with Owen’s help, to get everything out of the SUV and into the house. She left the bags near the master bedroom door and bega
n putting away the groceries. “Thank you for your help, Owen. Can I call you Owen or would you prefer Mr. Abrams?”

  “Owen is great.”

  “And I’m Hannah. I appreciate the help and the use of your very beautiful home. Just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Do you mind me asking about your son’s—”

  “He’s not my son,” she said in a whisper. “Not yet. He’s my best friend’s son. She passed away a few weeks ago. It’s been very hard on both of us, Noah and me. And on Erin’s other close friends. It was sudden and unexpected—complications from the flu. I guess that’s the best way to explain it. It was a bad flu and went downhill from there. As for Noah’s condition, the leg braces. He has cerebral palsy, a very mild case, and with good medical care and therapy he will overcome most if not all of the problems associated with it. He’s getting stronger every year. He’s the best kid. Right now we’re really missing his mom.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “Is there anything more I can do to help you settle in?”

  Hannah grinned. “Can we borrow the dog for a couple of weeks? That’s the biggest smile I’ve seen on Noah’s face in weeks.”

  “I’ll be around,” he said. “And when I’m around, Romeo is around. Just be careful because he’s—”

  “I know. Clumsy.”

  He pushed his shaggy hair back with a big hand and smiled shyly. The man was so tall, Hannah was staring into his chest. “I can relate to the poor guy’s problem. I’m a little clumsy, too,” he said.

  * * *

  One of the issues with having a trauma buried in your past was obsession. Owen was at his computer for hours while Hannah and Noah settled into the house. He researched her car license, her name, and while he didn’t know Noah’s last name, he soon found it. Erin Waters of Madison had been survived by her son, Noah, her mother, Victoria Addison, her half brother, Roger Addison, many friends... Hannah’s name and Noah’s turned up in the obituary. It also turned up on LinkedIn. Hannah’s name popped up here and there in business-related stories and while there was no media coverage of her taking custody of a little boy, he became comfortable with the idea that she was legit and he was not dealing with a kidnapping.

 

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