by Betty Bolte
“She always had good timing where meals are concerned.” Meg chuckled, laying the spatula down before crossing her arms. “At least she’s not heavy as a result of that.”
“Bully for her.” Meg moved to ease the door wide open before Paulette could pound her fist against the broken door. Max owed her a new one, without a doubt. “You’re early.”
Paulette grinned and dropped her bags inside the door. “You know what they say about being first to the party.”
“No, I must have missed that memo.” Meredith eased the door closed so it didn’t fall and then retrieved her coffee and took a fortifying gulp. Crap, that was hot. She swished the liquid in her mouth, cooling it before swallowing.
“Maybe it’s a bird thing then.” Paulette waggled a hand in the air, shaking her head. “I’ve never been able to keep all those weird sayings straight. Coffee?”
Meg filled a mug and handed it to Paulette, who accepted it with thanks. “You may not remember me after all this time, but I’m Meg Williams, your grandmother’s housekeeper.”
Paulette grinned. “I definitely remember you, Meg. You always made the best breakfast buns. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Just pulled them from the oven too.” Meg motioned to the table. “Have a seat, girls.”
Reluctantly Meredith sank onto one of the chairs and studied her sister as she lifted a bun and took a bite. “You didn’t come here simply for breakfast, now did you?”
Paulette shook her head. “Of course not, but it seemed like a good idea. Meg’s cooking is much better than the old biddy who runs the B&B. You wouldn’t believe what she made me for breakfast.” An indelicate shudder shook Paulette’s shoulders.
“Given you’ll eat anything, I’m afraid to ask.” Meredith bit into her bun and nearly moaned with the pleasure exploding across her taste buds. Cinnamon laced with spices mingled with sweet pecans and cranberries as the bread melted on her tongue. Nobody beat Meg’s baking. Nobody.
“Burritos stuffed with fried eggs, hash browns, anchovies, and sour cream. Ugh.” Paulette took another bite and sighed. “I recalled you telling me the Williamses were still here, so I thought I’d take a chance.”
“What would you have done if all I had was granola bars?” Meredith couldn’t stop the grin splitting her face, knowing the answer.
“Leave for better breakfasts somewhere, of course.” Paulette grinned back at her, lacing her tapered fingers around her mug. The one with the fading picture of the two of them, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Seems like old times, doesn’t it?”
“In some ways, I suppose.” Meredith swallowed a mouthful of coffee as she assessed Paulette. Did she care about the friendship they once shared? Or had their rapport been obliterated by the more recent skirmishes in their lives? Some glimmer in her expression reminded Meredith of her penchant for finagling all she could out of any situation. “But I’ll say it again. I don’t owe you anything.”
Paulette raised calculating eyes to meet Meredith’s steady gaze. “Of course you do. Especially after all I’ve done for you over the years. It’s time to pay some of that back.”
No. The word echoed in her head. Meredith had given all she could possibly give. She thought of the many times she’d dropped whatever she was doing to answer a summons to extricate her from yet another scrape. Paulette thrived on trouble, landing in one predicament after another. And expensive predicaments, at that. Between her penchant for finding melodramatic and abusive boyfriends and her daring nature, she managed to lead anything but a dull life.
The luggage at the door caught Meredith’s eye, and a chill crept through her. Surely she was passing by, on her way to her next adventure. Assuredly, she wouldn’t be planning what Meredith dreaded most. She didn’t need yet another person protesting about what she needed to do. After she managed to have Max perform the seeming miracle to remove the plantation from protected status. Not that she couldn’t do what she wanted with her own property, but it would seem less awful to the community if it weren’t a national treasure. And she definitely did not want Paulette involved in any of her plans, let alone her ideas for the plantation, no matter how much her skills could help. She pinned her with a glare, one she hoped instilled fear into her selfish, conniving heart.
“What is it you want?” Meredith clutched her mug between two suddenly cold hands.
“Your welcoming smile because, sister dear, I’m moving in.” She threw wide her arms, her expression revealing her knowledge of the bolt of horror racing through Meredith.
Meg clapped her hands together, her smile wide and happy. “How lovely for the two of you to have the opportunity to become reacquainted.”
Grizabella chose that moment to hack up a hair ball beside her food bowl. Meredith understood the feeling.
“No, that’s not possible.” Meredith raised her mug to her lips with a trembling hand.
“Why do you say that?” Paulette bit into the fragrant roll, studying Meredith as her jaws worked like a masticating cow.
“Because, my dear sister,” Meredith said with a strained smile, “I’d strangle you if you ever lived with me again.”
Paulette chuckled, eyes steady on Meredith for the span of two of Meredith’s finger drummings on the table. Glancing up, her eyes reflected her delight. “Don’t let your lawyer lover boy hear you say that.”
Startled, Meredith observed with a pang of horror Max’s fist poised to knock on the back door. He stood motionless, staring at her with his stunning eyes. She liked the way his temples sported gray highlights against his dark hair, making him appear even more lawyerish. She pushed up from the table at the same moment Meg saw him and crossed to the door to let him in. Meredith paused, hovering between sitting and standing, until she sank back onto the seat and watched him greet Meg. When he sauntered inside, his presence filled the kitchen with life.
He loomed above her, broad shoulders and a hint of paunch, likely the result of his love of moonshine combined with his less than active lifestyle. She caught a whiff of his aftershave and noticed his strong, clean-shaven jaw. Nothing marred the perfection of the smooth surface: no moles or dimples or even a cleft in his chin.
“Would you like some coffee?” Meg asked, breaking the silence stretching between them.
“If you have a bun or two to go with it.” Max dragged out a chair and sat down at the table, his wide smile aimed at Meredith. “They smell too good to pass up.”
Meredith bit her lip, not wanting to be antagonistic so early in the morning. Max’s familiarity in her house set her teeth on edge. But then, he’d likely been here many times discussing the future of the plantation with her grandmother. She swallowed a sigh, masking it as a deep breath.
“Did you sleep well?” Max asked Meredith.
“What? Why do you ask?” She glanced at him, and then back to where she slowly spun her mug on the table, automatically calculating the degrees of the circle as the handle navigated the outer edge of the circular path between her hands.
“You’re still learning the noises of the house, so I thought you might be having trouble sleeping. Especially after yesterday. Thanks, Meg.” He grinned as Meg placed a steaming mug and a plate crowded with two of the largest buns in front of him.
“Eat up; that’s why I bake.” Meg smoothed her hands down the front of her yellow gingham bib apron.
“So, Mer,” Paulette said, “are you sleeping well? You do look a little peaked, what with the beginnings of bags under your eyes.”
Meredith frowned in Paulette’s direction. She wouldn’t dignify her yet again off-base observation with a response. Bags, indeed. She’d checked earlier, and no sign showed on her face of her late nights and too early mornings. Yet. “My sleeping habits are none of your business.”
Paulette nodded. “As I thought. You’re not sleeping again, are you?”
Whether she stayed awake counting the knotholes in the wood ceiling or the number of hoots echoed by owls outside was her business. Meredith shot her
sister the look her mother had perfected, the one that froze small children in their tracks.
Paulette laughed. “Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.”
Why the hell not? How had her life spun so far out of control in such a short span of time? Meredith fumed at the way these people were pushing their way into her private affairs. Ever since Willy and their child had been snatched from her, she’d kept her own counsel. Ever since that night when she’d been about to tell Willy she carried their first child. Sitting in his pickup in front of his parents’ home, she’d been startled when a man calmly walked up to Willy’s side of the vehicle, demanding his wallet. Willy barely had time to raise a protective arm in front of Meredith before she spotted the pistol. Heard the explosion of the gun and the jolt of her husband as he fell across her. Followed immediately by the shaft of pain as another bullet entered her womb, stealing the life of their unborn baby. She had bled profusely, wailing at the pain and the desolation. Willy’s parents had rushed from the house at the sound of gunfire. The man had vanished by the time the police arrived and the ambulance carried her to the hospital. After they’d stabilized her, she learned Willy died along with their baby.
Nobody could possibly understand the depth of her pain, the grief lingering in her soul. Her body recovered, of course, but the grief morphed into an anger so hot and volatile she’d relinquished her contracts for designing and building houses in order to concentrate on the opposite: demolishing them, piece by piece. Twin Oaks was like the others in many ways, another demolition project. Sure, she had some obstacles in the form of the National Register and its expectations and the preferences of Max and even her sister. But she now longed for the ultimate closure, to move on. She’d restore the family plantation property to its natural state to stand as a tribute to new beginnings, a place where people grieving for a loved one could find their individual serenity. Then, with any luck, she’d be free of this terrible weight pinning her to the past.
Max chewed his breakfast, watching her. In another time and place, she could absolutely find him interesting, and definitely attractive. Hell, she’d experienced both already. But not at this time and place. She needed to work alone to achieve her objectives. This project was a sole-source contract and she the only qualified person to effectively handle the details.
“So did you figure out how to remove Twin Oaks from the list?” She leaned back in her chair, drawing her coffee with her. “Is that why you’re here so early?”
“Are you sure you want to try? The commission doesn’t take kindly to removing a property.” Max swallowed a mouthful of coffee and then leaned his elbows on the table. “I’m intrigued to learn what you plan to do with Twin Oaks. Will you perhaps make it a B&B and entertain folks who love historical homes? Or turn it into a hotel? Or, my favorite fantasy, make it your home?”
“Why do you care?” Meredith studied his expression. She drummed her fingers in a slow cadence on the table in an effort to steady her swirling thoughts.
“You belong here. Don’t you feel it?” Max reached across the table and laid his hands on hers. “I can tell you fit like a tongue-and-groove floor.”
“It’s getting deep in here.” Paulette rose from the table, scraping the chair across the floor as she gained her feet. “Meg, is there more coffee to wash down all this baloney Max is serving up?”
“It’s not baloney,” Max said, squeezing and then releasing Meredith’s hands. “It’s the truth.”
Meredith sensed that Max believed what he said but couldn’t for the life of her figure where he developed such a notion. She exemplified the fish-out-of-water kind of person. City life and its hustle and bustle, the honking of horns and wailing of sirens, spoke of living. Being surrounded by the sounds and smells of humanity suited her much more than country life, with its cacophony of silence punctuated by crickets and birdsong. Oh, and don’t forget the damn roosters.
“Sorry, Max, but I’m here long enough to settle things, and then I’m hightailing it to my next job.” She stood, taking her mug to the sink, which put distance between her and Max. Paulette, too, but mainly she needed to be outside the range of Max’s radiant heat and magnetic vibes.
“You’re not staying?” Meg crossed her arms and blinked at Meredith.
“I told you I couldn’t guarantee how long I’d stay.” Meredith shook her head. She hadn’t meant to be so bald about her short-term plans. But the horse was out of the barn. “That’s my plan.”
“How long before you kick us out again?” Meg shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her arms sliding down to wrap around her waist. “Have you decided that?”
Meredith didn’t want Meg to have a meltdown right there on the kitchen floor, so she hedged. “I have not finalized the details as of yet, Meg. I’ll be here for weeks, maybe a month or so anyway.”
“Oh, well then.” Meg relaxed her arms, allowing them to fall at her sides before folding her hands loosely in front of her. “It’s not like you’re abandoning us, then. We’ve plenty of time to change your mind, haven’t we, Max? Paulette?”
“Right, plenty of time.” Max stood and approached Meg. “With a little investment in time and money, this place will shine again.”
“I’m in,” Paulette said. “Twin Oaks is growing on me. The longer I’m here, the more I remember what a lovely property it is. Between us, we can make a go of it. I love the idea of a B&B, Max. That would bring in income, and we’d be keeping the place in the family. What do you think, Mer?”
“You’ve only been here a few minutes. You can’t possibly have grown attached to it so fast.” The thought of living here, with her sister sharing the house and Meg and Sean in the cottage, shot tremors through Meredith. Max, too, would be coming and going.
The scene played before her like a B-rated movie. It could not happen. No way. The mere idea caused her breath to catch and her heart to race. Bracing her hands on the counter, she dragged in deep gulps of air to steady herself. She relived the glint of the gun’s barrel pointed through the window and the echoing blast before Willy’s dead weight pressed into her. The idea of having a family home without Willy and their child caused her to shake from head to toe.
Max speared her with his intense gaze and then walked toward her. With each step he took, her heart raced faster and her lungs burned. Dark blotches appeared before her eyes, slowly shifting and blending.
“You know it’s your destiny.” Max stopped in front of her, though thankfully he didn’t touch her. “Deep down inside, what we’re proposing is what you really want.”
The room spun like a whirlpool around her. The blotches obliterated the people grinning at her. “No.”
Her legs gave way, failing to support her reeling self. Max caught her in his arms as all went black.
* * * *
“That went well,” Paulette said to Max. She shook her head and shrugged. “I’ve never seen her faint before. Can you carry her up to her room?”
“Good idea.” He started out of the kitchen with Meredith passed out in his arms.
Paulette grabbed her suitcase and followed him. “I’ll just put my stuff away, and then I’ll come check on her.”
“No need.” Max shifted Meredith in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. “I can handle it.”
“She’s my sister.” Did he think she didn’t care? “I’ll only be a minute.”
“Suit yourself.” Max disappeared into the master bedroom.
She raced down the hall to the large bedroom at the front of the house. Sunshine streamed through the two double-hung windows flanked by floral-print curtains. The twin beds faced the windows. Everything remained the same as when they stayed there over summer break so long ago. As if Grandma expected them to come back. Even the quilts she’d made them graced the beds. She sank onto hers, tracing Saturn’s rings with a finger. She glanced up and froze. Her sampler still hung above her bed. She rose and went to it, examining the stitching. She’d prided herself on making them as e
ven and tight as her grandmother’s.
She had once wanted to become a fashion designer when she grew up. She loved the feel of quality fabric and enjoyed creating new dresses for her dolls. She’d imagined having fashion shows with runway models wearing her creations. Until her dad convinced her decorating houses would help more people. He’d been right, of course. She'd thought, by becoming an interior designer, he’d be proud of her, and they would team up and work together. He’d build the houses, and she’d decorate them. Sadly, her dream hadn’t happened.
She’d made such a blasted mess of her life. Pregnant and alone, worming her way into Meredith’s life. Needing her in a way she’d never wanted. What she told Max was true. She cared about Mer because they were siblings. But also because they once shared a much stronger bond. She wanted their friendship back. Hell, she wanted a lot of things from her life. She finally had a new chance to make at least some of it happen. Maybe even pursue her desire to design clothing. First, she needed to wiggle back into Meredith’s good graces.
She scanned the bedroom again before hurrying back out to check on her only sister.
Chapter 7
A soft purr and meow tickled Meredith’s ear. She blinked awake, Grizabella’s whiskers brushing her cheek. Where was she? The last she remembered she couldn’t breathe and Max’s arms wrapped around her. Oh, that woke her up. She ran a hand down Griz’s back and along her tail as the cat turned and strutted to the end of the bed.
“I’m glad you’re awake.” Max rose from the straight-backed chair now positioned beside the bed and shoved his hands into his front pockets. “How do you feel?”
Meredith pushed herself up to a sitting position, checking to ensure all systems functioned correctly. “What happened?”
“You fainted.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“I never faint.” Yet she must have, or she wouldn’t be in bed with no memory of how she arrived here. With Max hovering by her bedside like a worried lover. Where had that thought come from?