Fixer-Upper (Spinning Hills Romance 3)

by Ines Saint

  Marissa sighed. “I wish I could’ve seen the future when I was fifteen. It would’ve saved me a lot of ridiculous heartache.”

  “What, Ruby didn’t tell you you’d be marrying Brian Golden that time she read your fortune behind Abuela’s back?” Melinda’s smile became real.

  “No.” Marissa chuckled. “She said something about me needing to find a balance, and I couldn’t pay attention after that. I was so disappointed. I’d been waiting for ages for her to read my fortune, and I wanted to be told something special. Do you remember what she said to you?”

  “She said I had to get out of myself.” Melinda shook her head. “I tried to float above my body for weeks after that, thinking maybe I could do some astral traveling and see New York and Los Angeles.”

  Marissa laughed at the mental picture her sister created. “Maybe that’s why Abuela didn’t want her reading our fortune.”

  Melinda nodded. “Remember the time you tried to perform CPR on a dead goldfish?”

  Marissa wrinkled her nose. “How can I forget? It’s Mom’s favorite Marissa story. I wish she’d stop telling it. I had a boyfriend who wouldn’t kiss me for a week when she told him. And she forgets she went nuts when it happened. She was sure I’d get salmonella or something.”

  Melinda wrinkled her nose, too. “Well, it was disgusting.”

  “I was only six!”

  Melinda smiled. “I know . . . but I always thought that’s what Ruby meant about you needing to find a balance. You slept with the fishbowl in our room for a week, and you kept getting up to check on the other fish. It’s when I demanded my own room. You wouldn’t let me get any sleep.”

  Marissa was quiet, remembering how sad she’d been the day the fish had died.

  “Johnny brought you a new fish, remember?” Melinda asked.

  Of course she remembered. She’d never forgotten how solemn he’d looked when he handed her the sandwich bag full of water and one little fish. Her heart did the little squeeze it was apt to do when she thought of Johnny. But she continued to unpack as if her thoughts weren’t spinning hard and fast. Melinda had found a way to bring up Johnny, and she’d be bringing up the masquerade party next. What if she asked her outright whether she was the girl Johnny had met that night? The whole thing felt too strange and unfamiliar. She hadn’t attracted male attention—or any kind of attention, really—until she was in college, and now she was engaged to Brian Golden and was Johnny Amador’s mystery girl? It was crazy.

  Marissa tossed a shirt onto the bed, sat down next to her sister, and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t asked how you’re feeling about that whole scene Saturday night. I didn’t know if I should bring it up.”

  Melinda considered her for a long moment. “You can tell me if it was you he was talking about, you know. I mean, we were wearing very similar clothes, and it would explain some of the things he told Abuela and Marty. And it’s not like I liked him or anything. I was just enjoying being the girl a popular guy had been going on and on about.”

  Though Marissa knew those last words were true, Melinda’s mouth and jaw were set in such a way that made Marissa feel sure the news would, in fact, upset her sister. Admitting she was the girl would actually help no one. A simple version of the truth would have to do, so she wouldn’t mess up later or sound like she was overexplaining.

  “I can see how you’d think that, but I’m not the girl Johnny’s been talking about.” And she truly wasn’t. He’d built that girl up in his mind to be someone else entirely. “I spent that night catching up with my friend Isabella, remember? Until I left to find you.” She hesitated. “And I didn’t want to say anything because everyone’s so mad at Johnny . . . but it turns out he and I are working at the same school.” Melinda’s eyes widened at that, and Marissa rushed on. “We talked about you, the masquerade party, and even the girl. The whole thing started ’cause he found your invitation. I think the moment he saw your name, his mind started making everything fit. We all do that sometimes, I think. Force things to fit because they’re convenient or would make a good story.”

  Melinda began picking at a loose thread on the bedspread. She wasn’t convinced, but Marissa could say no more without falling into the Shakespearean trap of protesting too much.

  “So,” Marissa began. “Tell me about Wright State.”

  Her sister shrugged. “I’ve decided I’m going back to LA. I hate it here.”

  When had communicating with her sister become so anxiety-ridden? She remembered a time when she’d treated Melinda like her very own live doll, and Melinda had reveled in it. She’d do her hair, help her pick out outfits, and experiment with makeup.

  Maybe Marissa had been a huge part of the problem. Melinda wasn’t a doll. And she was now an adult. An adult who hadn’t been able to keep a steady job during the last six years and who’d been living off of their parents. They never said anything, but Marty and Marissa both knew.

  Los Angeles was expensive. Her parents both still worked and made a decent living, but supporting Melinda had to be making a huge dent. They’d talked for years about traveling, and yet they hadn’t taken one trip. And their father, a longtime mailman, could have retired three years ago, but he hadn’t.

  Marissa chose her next words carefully because Melinda seemed to be super-sensitive these days. “You know me, I always think people should do what they want, as long as it doesn’t affect others, and I’ve always thought you’d be great on screen. But I thought you said LA was very expensive and you’d run out of money. Have you been applying for jobs out there?”

  Melinda stiffened. “Yes, I’m looking, but you guys don’t understand. It’s hard to hold down a job and audition for roles at the same time because you never know when you’re going to get a call. My friend Sahara has gotten a few commercials and guest spots that have paid her enough to live on for months at a time, but she lives at her parents’ house and doesn’t have to constantly struggle to make ends meet. You have no idea what it’s like, and Dad said he can’t help me anymore. He gave me one year and that went by fast. Do you know how many people tell me how lucky I am that I at least have an agent? And now I’m screwed because I’m all the way over here, and Dad just doesn’t get it. One good role or modeling contract and I’d have paid them back. I would’ve paid off their mortgage and bought them enough plane tickets to see the world.”

  Marissa didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t known her father had put his foot down, but she was glad he had. And she knew how much her sister loved them all and would give them the world if she could. “I know you’d pay them back if you could, Melinda, but don’t you see you’re asking Mom and Dad to risk their future on you?”

  Melinda stood up again. “I know I can make it. The problem is, none of you believe in me. You all say you do, but you don’t!” With that, she stormed out.

  Marissa plunked down on the bed and stared at the wall, wondering where she’d gone wrong in the conversation. A short time later, Brian called, and Marissa sat back and listened to him vent about a public relations nightmare he’d had to spin for one of his more prominent clients. His work was interesting, fast-paced, and exciting, but it was often high-stress. Luckily, she had something to tell him about her own day that was guaranteed to make him smile. But she didn’t get quite the reaction she’d been hoping for.

  “Johnny never was one to think things through. I mean, five puppies, seriously?” Brian’s laugh boomed into her ear.

  “I didn’t tell you so you’d make fun of him, I told you because I thought it would make you smile. He did it for the kids, you know,” she said, feeling the need to defend Johnny because she’d agreed with and encouraged him.

  And the last thing she needed was to be reminded that Johnny didn’t think things through. She was trying to view him as an adult who’d worked hard and deserved a chance to prove himself, and not as the teenager who’d helped her consistently lie to her parents, sneak off, and take on someone else’s problems.

  Br
ian’s sigh came out sounding as if he were right next to her. “I know, and I’m not making fun of him, or saying it wasn’t a nice thing for him to do, but . . . Does he even know how big those puppies are going to get? I mean, what if they turn out to be Saint Bernards? Where would he keep five huge dogs in the winter? It’ll be a shame if he ends up letting the kids down.”

  Marissa could tell that’s what Brian thought would happen. It was possible. Now that she thought about it, it had been a rash decision, and she shouldn’t have encouraged him to make it. Judging from everyone’s reaction so far, nobody else would’ve cheered him on. It seemed as if she and Johnny were destined to support each other in well-intentioned but foolhardy endeavors. “I don’t know, I think it’ll work out,” she finally said.

  “You always think it’s going to work out.” It was said with tenderness.

  Marissa closed her eyes. Her mom called out from the hallway, breaking in to her muddled thoughts. “I guess . . . Anyway, I’ve got to go. Mom’s calling me for dinner, and you know how she gets.”

  Brian chuckled. “Yeah, I know how she gets. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, babe. Say hi to Johnny for me.”

  Chapter 8

  As Johnny walked up to the school carrying a quarter-gallon of paint and painting supplies for his office, he noticed how dirty the exterior brick walls were, too. The entire school could do with a good power-washing and a fresh coat of paint, but he knew there was no room for it in the budget.

  He made a mental note to call a few local businesses to see if they could donate supplies. Manpower would not be a problem. He knew he could count on his brothers and a few friends to help, and there were surely parents and staff who’d also love to get it done.

  “What you got there?” Mrs. Dunne asked when he got to the office lobby.

  “Serenity Verdigris.” Johnny held up the paint pail.

  “I like the sound of that.” Mrs. Simmons came out of her office, folded her arms, and smiled.

  “I’ll get it done after school today and host an office warming party tomorrow. I expect brownies, flowers, and gift cards,” he said before heading off to his office.

  “Let me know if you need any help—wouldn’t want a pretty boy like you to break a nail,” Harold, the custodian, called after him. The older man and Johnny had become fast friends the day before.

  “Sure. You can give me a manicure when I’m done,” Johnny tossed back.

  When he got to his office, he picked out the files of the kids he’d met yesterday in the parking lot, rereading them and making notes about who had named which puppy what, thinking they’d appreciate it if he remembered.

  He passed Marissa’s classroom on his way to Amy’s, and a chorus of “Mr. A”s called out to him. The sound brought a huge smile to his face.

  The entire class now knew about the puppies, and he was bombarded with questions. He proudly showed off all the pictures he’d taken the day before. The critters were so dang cute, he’d taken at least a dozen. “Chico is camera shy, but Milo is a camera hog. The little dude photo-bombed every single picture,” he told them. “See, that’s his rump in this picture, and that’s his little paw in that one.” Everyone laughed, but Marissa stayed away. Johnny left to go to Amy’s classroom to continue teaching the kids a few basics about tools, figuring Marissa was eager to get started on her day and he was holding her back.

  Late that morning, Johnny got his very first referral. He looked up from his desk to see Javier leaning on the wall outside his office, scowling and looking tough.

  Johnny motioned him in. Javier slouched in, tossed a crumpled-up note onto the desk, and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, face hard. Johnny didn’t look at the note. “What’s up?” he asked.

  Javier shrugged. “Can you read?” he asked.

  Johnny met Javier’s hard-eyed stare with a serious one of his own until the boy looked away. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s in the note?”

  “I ain’t telling no shrink my shit. You wanna find out, read.”

  Johnny raised both eyebrows. “You sound like my brothers.”

  Javier looked a little surprised at his calm response, though he tried to hide it. Johnny turned the picture of him and his brothers around. Cassie had taken a picture of the three of them in front of one of Sam’s most run-down properties, and Holly had framed a copy for each of them. Javier had intended to merely glance at it, but something must’ve caught his attention, because his eyes lingered on the picture. “Some dump you live in,” he said.

  Johnny turned the picture around. “It’s a dump, all right. But we don’t live in it. We fix houses up and then sell them for profit.” He gestured to the floor beside the desk, where he’d laid the framed pictures he was planning on putting up after he painted. Javier glanced down at the half-dozen before and after pictures of houses. The turnarounds were impressive, and before long, Javier was studying them, though he kept his disinterested mask on.

  Johnny was glad he’d thought of displaying them somewhere, even if just the floor for now. After a while, something in Javier’s expression shifted. It was barely noticeable, but Johnny was hopeful his far-fetched plan might work.

  The neighborhood surrounding the middle school was made up of mostly fixer-uppers. Immigrants were coming in and fixing up the houses, but many houses were still in disrepair. Johnny hoped the pictures would show the kids that transformations were possible, if people were willing to work hard enough. “You fix that?” Javier finally asked in a nonchalant tone, while gesturing with his head to one of the pictures.

  Johnny turned toward the picture. “Fixed what, exactly?” he asked. “The house?”

  “The holes,” he said with a shrug, not looking at Johnny.

  “The missing mortar between the stones there?” he asked, pointing to the only “holes” he could see in that particular picture. Javier nodded and Johnny said, “Yes. It was a pretty easy fix.”

  Javier was silent, but he shifted his feet a few times, and it was obvious he was wrestling with something. Again, without looking at Johnny, he said, “My abuela’s house has holes. Isaac’s house had it, but he fix it up with his dad.”

  Johnny knew from Javier’s file that his grandmother was his guardian. His parents appeared to be out of the picture.

  They were silent again for a while, until Javier finally pushed off the wall and said, “You gonna read the note, Mr. A?”

  Johnny considered him for a moment. “How about you tell me what’s in the note, and when we’ve gotten that out of the way, we can talk about me teaching you how to fix the stones on your grandmother’s house.”

  Javier’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and Johnny caught a faint glimmer of hope, followed quickly by distrust. Without looking at Johnny, he slouched into the seat in front of the desk as if he couldn’t care less about the note, the stones, and the world. He shrugged yet again. The boy was a pro at it. “I said I don’t wanna go with no stupid Russian, even for fake.”

  It took Johnny a moment to figure it all out. A girl named Aleksandra was from Ukraine. She was a talented ballerina and had picked up every dance move quickly, and Javier probably thought Ukraine was part of Russia. Johnny guessed Aleksandra and Javier were to be the leads, but Javier didn’t want to pretend to be in love with her.

  Johnny studied the boy. Telling him why and how he was wrong would go in one ear and out the other, and only make him more stubborn in the process. Soon, though, when he’d earned the kid’s respect, they could talk. The other kids looked up to Javier and would follow his lead. “I think you know you owe Miss Medina and Aleksandra an apology. Aleksandra is a talented dancer and a sweet girl, and she deserves your respect. A quick and serious ‘I’m sorry’ will do. If you do that, and if you treat everyone in the class with respect and keep contributing the way I saw you contributing yesterday, I’ll teach you exactly how to fix the stones on your grandmother’s house and give you the materials you need to do it. I’m going to try to get my broth
ers to help me scrape, paint, and spruce up the school next Saturday. There’s a shed out back that needs mortar, too, and you could help me with it and learn. If you get your grandmother’s written permission, you can meet us here at eight in the morning.”

  Javier looked unsure, but they struck the deal. “Can I help with the other stuff, too?” he asked before leaving.

  It took all Johnny had not to show how thrilled he was by the offer. An indifferent, “Sure,” was all he said, knowing Javier would back out the minute he suspected that was exactly what Johnny wanted him to do.

  Later that afternoon, he poked his head inside Marissa’s classroom to see if she needed help recording their progress, but he was quickly flooded with requests to help out at the school. He looked over at Marissa, wondering if she thought he was crazy for wanting to spend a Saturday fixing up the school for free. But Marissa looked overjoyed. “We’ll need some training, but once you tell us exactly what to do and how to do it, I’m sure we’ll be a big help.”

  “We?” Johnny lifted an eyebrow.

  “We.” Marissa looked at him as if her help was an obvious and forgone conclusion. “The kids will need permission to help out, but some of their guardians don’t speak English. I can translate a permission slip for the Spanish speakers, and I can try to have a friend who works for a translation agency find people to translate the other languages before then.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Johnny nodded his head and smiled. The kids cheered. Johnny remembered a time when he and his brothers had also been excited to paint. There was something about it that always got kids excited, until they figured out how much work it actually was. He wondered how next Saturday would go.

  Marissa tilted her head and studied him. “You know, a normal person would not be grinning. A normal person would be wondering what he’d gotten himself into.”

  “And a normal person wouldn’t have volunteered to come along for the loco ride,” he pointed out.