Return to Paradise

Home > Other > Return to Paradise > Page 7
Return to Paradise Page 7

by Laina Villeneuve


  I frowned at the book. “I don’t really have her perspective. She was disappointed when he moved away. He went to college, met Alice, and that was that.”

  Lacey sat back and hmphed.

  “What?”

  “Clearly, he didn’t deserve her. If the person I loved broke my heart marrying someone else, that’d be it.”

  “Even if fate brought you back together again?”

  “Even then.” Lacey placed her napkin next to her plate. “Someone breaks my heart, I’m done.”

  Shawneen returned to fill our water glasses and leave the bill. I felt Lacey’s eyes on me as I avoided eye contact with the waitress. Carrying on as if Shawneen had never been there, I said. “You don’t believe in fate?”

  To stall, she rearranged her hair, the stylish cut framing her face. “No. That presumes that things are not in your control. It means accepting that there is some supernatural power dictating your life. That holds no appeal to me. You should be talking to Hope. She says her relationship with Dani is Fate.”

  Fate. I heard the capital in the way she overenunciated the way people uncomfortable with God seem to falter on the word. How would she react if I were to share how I felt like fate had called me home to her shop across the street? “But you don’t…believe that someone can rekindle an old flame?” I pushed, my eyes flicking back toward the kitchen.

  Our conversation had me thinking about why I’d always thought about returning to the ranch in Quincy. I’d thought it would make me feel closer to Charlie and would give me the chance to get to know my mother as an adult. There’s supposed to be a bond between mother and daughter, something that would make her more likely to talk about what had happened with her and Charlie. I thought there would be an intuition between us. Something special. Her failure to recognize me had already shaken that dream.

  She looked at me and then glanced in the direction of the kitchen before looking back to me, a furrow on her brow. “No.” She laughed as if such a thought was absurd. “Because what does that mean about Roosevelt’s friend’s life while she’s without him? She was on hold for all of those years pining away for someone who was living, really living? That sounds like such a waste to me.”

  “Ah.” I shifted my plate to the side and collected my book. I’d pay the check at the counter.

  “Hey!” She quickly grabbed her coat and followed me. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I’m not offended,” I said, counting out bills to hand to a bored Shawneen. My heart pounded as she made change. Standing directly in front of her, I still didn’t even warrant her attention, let alone her recognition, and I suddenly had to get away from her.

  “Let me get dinner. I feel like an a-hole for upsetting you.”

  “You didn’t upset me.” I insisted pushing out into the cold. I felt better for leaving the building, the cold numbing me like ice pushed against a bruised knee.

  “I know we don’t know each other well, but you seem upset.”

  “I’ve got a lot to do. Did you want a lift back to your shop?” I wanted away from the restaurant, away from Shawneen. I needed space to think. She accepted, and I thought of the flat tire that had led me to her. Pulling into her drive, I remembered too vividly how she’d looked at me like I was a wacko when I’d sat outside her garage, stunned to be home.

  I took in the height of her eyebrows, shaped in a way that would have made Shawneen proud, and was glad I hadn’t mentioned her to Ruth, so I wouldn’t have to explain that I couldn’t hang out with her. Seeing my mom had made me want to crawl into a dark, quiet place.

  “Thanks again for dinner,” I said, meaning it. It would have been so much harder to sit through the meal alone. Now I knew to avoid the Chinese place.

  “You’re welcome,” she said in a professional tone suited for clients. Probably those she hoped she didn’t have to deal with again anytime soon.

  Chapter Twelve

  Madison

  “What do you think?” I tapped my teeth with my thumbnail trying to visualize a master suite carved out of the massive garage. “If Lacey can turn a bedroom into a garage, surely we can make a bedroom out of one.”

  Houdini said nothing.

  I reached over and rubbed around his eyes. He dropped his head, relaxed, not even looking at the space and how the mud sink meant it wouldn’t be difficult to plumb another bathroom. “I could call her to get her contractor’s number. It would be foolish to look one up on my own, wouldn’t it? When she trusts the one she worked with?”

  I paced out the room design adding to the never-ending list of what I needed to turn the ranch house into something rentable. Houdini seemed to think that the white walls were clean enough and the carpet in good shape, but I couldn’t wait to get the old shag pulled up. Pulling up a corner in one closet confirmed my hunch that the original floorboards still had their integrity and were simply waiting to be sanded and refinished. Ruth would help me make bright rag rugs both for the rustic look and for protecting feet from the cold in the winter months. In the summer, the smooth floors would help keep the rooms cool.

  Feeling the tears that lay so close to the surface since I’d seen Shawneen, I stepped out into the cold, inviting it to numb me. Houdini followed me and hung his big head over my shoulder. I leaned into him, giving in and sobbing until I had to catch my breath, hands on my knees, my eyes and nose raw from my tears and the cold mountain air. I gasped for breath, reminding myself that I’d anticipated her not knowing me. But it hurt more than I’d ever imagined. I’d always thought that having Ruth and Bo in my life had immunized me from any hurt Shawneen could cause, but I’d been wrong.

  I’d spent so many years feeling detached from my mother and whatever had happened between her and Charlie. In the week that I’d been back, I had foolishly let the idea that moving here might open up a relationship that hadn’t been available to me as a child. That fantasy had hinged on instant recognition. Now that I’d faced her and had that bubble burst, I felt an anger I’d never experienced before. It radiated from me begging for an exit.

  I grabbed a crowbar from my box of tools and carried it to the largest bedroom. I wedged the blade under the carpet where I had started in the closet and caught the tackboard that held it down, pushing until I heard the whine of nails pulling free and the splintering of brittle wooden tack strip. The whole perimeter of the long closet, I lit into the work, blessedly distracted by it.

  Panting from exertion, I bent to rip back the carpet but caught myself. No need to be both foolish and angry, I returned to the garage to retrieve my heavy leather work gloves and a trash can to haul loads out to the rented Dumpster.

  “I wrote to her, you know,” I snapped at Houdini who was napping in the garage, not that it felt much warmer in there. “And I know Charlie sent them. We addressed the envelopes together. Put postage on them. And she never wrote back.”

  I carried the trash can into the room. Kneeling, I pulled up the shag feeling like I was skinning Cookie Monster. Nails and wood I tossed into the trash can. The blue carpet I folded back underneath me. Grit and loose fabric still obscured the wood, so I tromped back to the garage for a broom and dustpan.

  “So why am I so angry? She never wrote back. I should expect nothing. That’s what you’re thinking.” I waited for a reaction but Houdini’s ears remained relaxed, forcing me to admit that I was talking to myself. I grabbed a box cutter and left him but not the lingering question. What did I expect from a woman I hadn’t seen for twenty years?

  Careful not to nick the floor, I cut the carpet I had freed and briskly swept out the closet. Was I angry with Charlie for not sending her pictures and updates? If he had, she would have recognized me. She would have swept me into her arms and told me how much she wanted me. I wanted to know if she’d missed me. No. She hadn’t. She’d never written. If she’d missed me, she would have found me. Charlie already knew that. It’s why he’d asked if I was wanting to see her. Did Ruth and Bo know as well? I hadn’t spoken to any of the
m about Shawneen, but I wonder if all three saw Shawneen living in town as part of my motivation for buying Hot Rocks. I didn’t want any of them to know that I’d held on to the hope that finding her would make me feel complete. If it didn’t work out, it would be my hurt alone.

  And where had that landed me? Even more alone. Besides my family, the only friends I had were those I worked with, and I’d left them all in Oregon. I had no one, I realized, not one person I could use as a sounding board for the tangle of ideas pushing around inside my head.

  There was Lacey. A whoosh of recognition washed through me as I replayed her expression when her eyes landed on me in the restaurant. She’d been glad to see me until the subject of fate came up. I felt a spark in her presence and would have liked to spend more time with her, but I didn’t get the sense that I could talk to her about how the mountain town had called me home.

  The mess swept away, I still couldn’t tell what shape the floors were in. Once again I returned to the garage for a construction lamp. The reward of my labor tipped the corner of my lip into a smile. “Hello beautiful,” I said, squatting to examine the wood. The way it had easily given up the nails and its rich tone suggested it was fir. I couldn’t wait to get more of the carpet up and see it in the natural light. The thick shag had saved the floor from a good deal of wear and tear for which I was grateful. I stood, my muscles protesting.

  Cautious not to fill it to the point where I wouldn’t be able to lift it, I dragged the trash can out to the Dumpster. Come to think of it, I didn’t know when trash day was or whether they even came up to the house. The enormity of what I didn’t know along with how much there was to do settled on me, and I sank to the floor, brushing off my work clothes.

  Houdini clomped over, sneezing in my cloud of dust, adding a layer of snot to my filth. “Thanks. That’s really helpful.” I rested my elbows on my knees, chin in my hands, my thoughts returning to Lacey. I’d thought we could be friends, and without that, I felt even more alone.

  “It’s a good thing you’re here.” I hated that I was choking up yet again. Impossibly, Houdini turned and walked to the space I hoped to turn into a bedroom. “That’s not the project right now. We’re focusing on the existing rooms first, remember?”

  He answered by snuffing around the floor, like a bloodhound picking up a scent.

  “Even if you think that should be first up, I don’t have Lacey’s number. Even if I did have her number, I don’t feel like calling her right now. She can keep her attitude in East Quincy. We don’t need it or her over here.” Now that I had stopped working, I felt chilled and would have appreciated Houdini’s warmth. Again, as if wanting to drive home his own point, he left the garage. His gait turned to trot and then a canter echoing through the woods on my property.

  “Some friend you are,” I growled, picking myself up and returning to my huge carpet-removal project.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lacey

  Singing along to the blaring radio, I grunted and pushed at the stubborn bolt. I wanted to get the brake job finished up, so I could get back to the book I was supposed to have finished for the lesbo book club Della had roped me into. I blushed thinking about the erotica she had picked for this month’s meeting. Dani and Hope had been reading books together for years when Dani invited Della into their circle. I’d joined in during the brief period Della and I tried to be a couple and enjoyed it too much to give it up even though many of the books fell into a category I knew Della selected to drive home the point of how alone we were.

  Hearing footsteps, I rolled out from underneath the ’66 Mustang only to find my shop empty. I rolled a bit further out to check the driveway. No cars. I frowned. Was I so self-conscious about what I was reading that I imagined people watching me?

  I’d no sooner repositioned my wrench than I heard the sound again. This time, I froze and felt fear creep up my spine. Someone was waiting until I was blind to them to move around in my shop. I found my longest wrench as quietly as possible. I wrapped my fingers around the cool handle imagining how I would describe the sound to the police. The intruder had a distinct footfall that sounded more like a clop rather than a creep. My heartbeat competed with the sound, making it difficult to keep track of where he was, but then I was certain the feet approached from the passenger side of the car.

  The hooves were so incongruous that I tried to sit up before sliding out, smacking my head smartly on the car’s undercarriage. Hand to head, I rolled out and tried sitting up again.

  A huge horse met my bewildered gaze. I stood slowly, not wanting to spook it. Edging toward my phone on the counter, I tried to make small talk. “You having engine trouble? Did your rig break down on the road?”

  His bright expression followed me as I inched to my phone and punched in a number.

  “Howdy.” Dani’s Texan drawl graced my ear. “You enjoyin’ the book?”

  I could see her eyebrows waggling and bowed my head even though she couldn’t see me. “It could have a touch more plot, but listen, I didn’t call about the book. I want to know what to do with this horse that wandered into my bay.”

  “Horse?”

  “Yes. A rather large white one. He’s on the other side of my brake job, and I don’t know what to do with him.”

  “Could he have thrown his rider?” Dani asked.

  “There’s not a thing on him.”

  “No halter, no bridle?”

  “Not a stitch.”

  “Weird. What do you want me to do?”

  “I thought you could come fetch him,” I suggested.

  “What am I going to do with a big white horse? It’s not one of mine, and it doesn’t sound like anything we’ve got at the college.”

  “Maybe you could take it to your barn and put up a found horse poster or something. I can’t keep it here.”

  “As much as I’d like to help you, I’ve got Joy this afternoon, and she’s napping. Hope says you never wake a sleeping toddler. You could try Gabe. He’d be willing to help, I’m sure.”

  “That’s a good idea. Thanks.” I looked down to end the call and dial Gabe. When I looked back up, my bay was empty.

  “Gabe here,” Gabe answered as he always did. “Hello?”

  “Sorry Gabe. It’s Lacey. I…I had a horse.”

  “Had?”

  “Had. It’s gone now.” I walked to the open bay door and looked up and down the street. No horse. I hadn’t heard him clopping out of my shop. He’d simply disappeared.

  “You okay over there?” he asked, concerned.

  “Fine. Sorry to bother you.”

  “No bother. I was going to call you about the little front loader I’ve got out here. Something’s up with the transmission. I take my foot off the accelerator and it keeps going. Kristine told me it’s done that before and to take advantage of it.”

  “How does one take advantage of a transmission that keeps a tractor moving without pressure on the accelerator?”

  “She said that it makes gates easier, that you jump off, open the gate, let it drive through and shut the gate after it passes.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Please tell me you didn’t try this.”

  “Just once. I’ve been meaning to fix the feeder it busted apart when I couldn’t catch the damn thing after I shut the gate.”

  I laughed remembering Dani’s description of Gabe’s chicken-like run. “At least you’re only destroying your own property, or were you kind of hoping for an excuse for a certain patrol officer to stop by.”

  “Oh, she doesn’t need an excuse.”

  “It’s about time you found someone.”

  “Someone into dudes. Seems like the whole town’s full of lesbians.”

  His comment made me think of Madison and how much I wished things had gone differently at dinner. Why had I let her comment about fate rile me like it did? Why’d I have to open my trap and let everything in my head spill right out? How hard would it have been to lie and say sure, I believe in Fate. Better yet,
something romantic like Fate must have brought you here. Why had I let it freeze up the conversation? “Well I’m glad she’s into you,” I said, coming back to the conversation. “You want me to head over to your place this weekend to have a look at the transmission?”

  “I could throw it on the flatbed.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be out to see my gran anyway.” She lived down the road from Gabe. We saw quite a bit of each other now that he was planting some of her fields with hay.

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Amazing. She might be doing a smaller garden, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t working all day long. I hope I take after her when I get older.”

  “None of us is getting any younger.”

  “And there’s still work to do,” I agreed, signing off. I held the phone to my chest as I walked around my shop looking for evidence of the horse I knew I’d seen. Too damn weird, I thought shaking my head. Feeling uneasy, I lay back down on my creeper and got back to work. Distracted, I threw in the towel around four. I hadn’t promised the car back the same day and didn’t feel right working on something so important when my mind was so clearly somewhere else.

  Once I’d cleaned up, I curled up on the couch with a throw, a cup of cocoa and Della’s book pick that had so much sex that I didn’t know how I was going to be able to look at Hope and Dani. Della was still hoping to get me hot and bothered enough to shelve my reservations and have a little fun in the sack.

  And Madison…I was going to have to divulge to the group that she’d bought a place in Quincy and was fair game. The thought felt crass, and I tossed the book away, frustrated, exactly as Della wanted me to be. Despite feeling like there was some potential for a spark with Madison, I’d decided to steer clear of her after our dinner. Something about the way she watched Shawneen and then avoided looking at her suggested some kind of history there. Knowing Shawneen, there was probably some nasty backstory that I’d be better off leaving alone.

  Still, I was restless. I pulled out my phone. “Hey Gran,” I said, picturing her on the kitchen landline that had a twisted mess of a cord that, if untangled, gave her access to the whole room as she talked. These days, she simply stood absurdly close to the base instead of fighting with the cord.

 

‹ Prev