by Rye Hart
“You have someone there that can sit with you while you do that?” she asked. “I can get a flight out or something.”
“Sarah. I’m not a child. I’ve got this. It’s just some pricing, and the guy seems really nice. Liked by the locals, too, which is a big thing in towns like this.”
“One, you’re twenty-two, so technically you are still a child.”
“Says the girl who’s a year younger than me,” I said
“And two, I’m just looking out for you. With everything you’ve been through the past few months, it would be okay if your head wasn’t screwed on straight.”
“Are you calling me crazy?” I asked. “Because if you are, then you’re late to that party.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me flying out?” she asked.
“Sarah. I’m fine. I’m serious. If all else fails, I’ll ask my neighbor for some advice.”
“Uh huh. That neighbor. We’ll talk about him later How much do you have for the repairs?”
“Between the inheritance money and my savings account, I can put exactly $32,461 into the repair of this cabin.”
“And by the way you talk about it, that doesn’t sound like near enough,” she said.
“I was up front with the contractor and told him taking out a loan wasn’t going to be in the cards. He was understanding and even talked about payment plans I could do, which would help my money go a lot further.”
“Payment plans?” she asked.
“Yep. They come in, do the work, draw up the bill, and then I put a certain percentage down and split up the rest into monthly payments over the course of however many months I want to pay on it. That thirty-two thousand could make monthly payments for two, three years before I’d be in trouble, and that would give me plenty of time to get my art going in the right direction.”
“Amanda, don’t get too in over your head. I wouldn’t go spending any more money than you have.”
“I know, I know. I’m not going to go crazy and update the entire place and spend two hundred thousand dollars or some shit. But, if the major repairs took $40,000, I could do the monthly payment thing, use some of the money from my online sales to pay the rest over time, and the big things could get fixed.”
“Just making sure you’re not losing it over there,” she said. “First the cabin’s okay, then it’s a wreck, then you meet some handsome neighbor you’re boning-”
“We aren’t having sex,” I said.
“Fine, a handsome neighbor you want to bone. I’m making sure you’re still being rational .”
“Thanks. I think. Anyway, from what I was able to tell the contractor, the major repairs alone will cost more than what I have. He won’t be able to have a firm estimate until he comes and takes a look at the place, but the general figure was already thirty-five thousand.”
“Yikes. And what does that cover?”
“Replacing the staircase, repairing the porch under the assumption that it doesn’t have to be replaced, fixing the cabinets in the kitchen, stabilizing the kitchen counter, and steam-cleaning the furniture after all the work is done.”
“They steam clean?” she asked.
“No, that was a different service I priced out after I talked with the contractor in town. Anything else will take me way over budget, so I’m hoping for the best when he gets here.”
“When are you expecting the contractor?”
“Around three o’clock today. And yes, I’ll call you once he leaves.”
“Good. I know you’re in the town you grew up in, but you’re a single woman living in a cabin on a mountaintop. That makes you vulnerable, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I appreciate it, Sarah. I really do. Right now, my focus is on repairing this cabin and painting.”
“And your neighbor,” she said.
“And painting,” I said, ignoring her. “Sarah, I’d forgotten how beautiful it was out here. The animals and the sunsets and the trees. It’s inspiring. I’ve already drawn one picture.”
“What was it of?”
“A bird that perched on the windowsill outside. Which reminds me, when all this is said and done, this cabin has the perfect windowsills to have little window box gardens. You know, like herb plants and shit.”
“‘Herb plants and shit.’ You make it sound so magical out there.”
“Shut up. I hate you. Anyway, just some thoughts after all this big stuff’s taken care of,” I said.
“It sounds like you’re preparing to set up camp there.”
I paused as I thought on her statement. In a way, I was. I was slowly settling into a place I’d considered home for years. I was beginning to dig through my grandmother’s room, and with her articles of clothing came memories of us sitting on the porch and talking. I wanted to put up another porch swing like we had before I’d broken it as a kid. And put a couple of rocking chairs on the porch so I could go out there with coffee and watch the nighttime set over the forest.
“I guess it does, huh?” I asked.
“I’ll support you in whatever you decide,” Sarah said. “As long as you have a room for me to come visit. Because I can’t live too much longer without my Amanda.”
“You’ll always be welcome here,” I said. “My grandmother would’ve loved you.”
I felt tears rising in my eyes as I thought about my grandmother meeting my best friend.
“Anyway,” I said. “I should get cleaned up. The contractor will be here in a couple of hours, and I should at least put on a bra.”
“Might be a good idea,” Sarah said, giggling. “Call me right after.”
“Will do,” I said. “Talk to you soon.”
CHAPTER 8
BRIAN
Lanie was beginning her breakfast when a knock came at the door. I felt the skin prickling the back of my neck as Tanya reached for the handle, but I held my hand out to her. There was something in the air I didn’t like. A twinge of electricity that alerted me to something dangerous.
Tanya saw the look in my eye, and she quickly scooped up Lanie in her arms.
“What’s wrong?” Lanie asked.
“Let’s give your uncle some time alone,” Tanya said. “We’ll eat breakfast in a few minutes.”
I waited until Tanya shut the door to Lanie’s room before I slowly opened the front door.
Now, I was face to face with the man that was battling for custody of Lanie. The man who had not given one shit about the little girl until there was money to be made off of her.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.
“You’re a hard man to track down, Brian,” he said.
I had half a mind to grab him by his throat and pick him up off his feet.
“I’ll ask you again. Why the hell are you standing on my porch?”
His eyes were darting around my body, no doubt trying to get a look into my home I had been talking with lawyers. I knew how this was going to go down. He was going to try and paint me to be an unfit guardian for Lanie because I was reclusive. Hard to track down, inn an area that didn’t support the development of a child. Now, he was here trying to snoop around. Maybe paint my home as dirty or unkempt. Or possibly paint me as hostile.
I had to keep my roiling anger under control. It would cost me Lanie if I didn’t.
“I wanted to let you know in person that I have the upper hand in this court case.”
“You tracked me down to tell me that?” I asked. “Do I strike you as an idiot?”
“I have rights to her, you know. I’m her fucking father.”
He spat that last word at me before he stumbled and that was when the smell of alcohol hit my nose. He reeked of booze, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was standing in front of me with yellowing teeth and fungus-filled nails in a suit that was a size too big for him.
“Your name isn’t on that birth certificate,” I said. “Which means you have no legal rights to Lanie.”
“A paternity test’ll fix that right up,” he said,
snarling.
“No, it won’t. It proves paternity, but doesn’t establish anyone to be a fit parent.”
“You’re not a fit parent!” the man roared. “You’re a reclusive bum of a man who keeps my daughter cooped up in this cabin in the woods.”
His hands were shaking, and he was beginning to fidget on my porch. I didn’t know what drugs he had coursing through his system, but I knew he wasn’t stable. I had no fucking clue what my sister had seen at some point in the past in this pathetic asshole, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to hand my beautiful niece over to him.
Not by a long fucking shot.
“Do you want me to call you a cab?” I asked. “Because I don’t think you should be driving.”
“Ah, trying the ‘nice guy’ card? Well, it won’t work. Everyone knows the shithead you really are. I’ll get my daughter back. Just you wait and see.”
My eyes locked hard on his face as he stumbled off the porch. He found his way back to his car and climbed up into it. This man couldn’t get back out onto the road.
If he didn’t plunge to his death first.
I made a mental note to write down everything that happened in detail, and possibly install a security camera on my property in case he decided to show up again. It would show that he was drunk or high, or both and not in the right mind to care for a child. I knew he just wanted my money, but my lawyer was concerned that if I gave it to him, he would just keep coming back for more. According to Luther, the only way to win custody for good and get this loser asshole out of Lanie’s life, was to go to court and prove that I was the best guardian for her.
I felt sick to my stomach as I shut the door to my home. I got on the phone with my lawyer immediately and told him what happened. I wrote down the date and time of the incident and as much as I could remember of what he said, as my lawyer instructed. He also suggested I enlist the help of a private investigator to dig up any dirt I could on the deadbeat.
“Uncle Bwian?”
I turned around at the sound of Lanie’s voice.
“What is it, sweetheart?” I asked.
“Who was that?”
I looked up into Tanya’s eyes, and I could see the anger boiling behind them. She had become as protective of Lanie as myself, and I knew she knew exactly who that was. She was clinging to Lanie as she walked her down the hallway, her eyes searching for any signs of danger.
I helped Lanie back up to the kitchen table, so she could start eating her breakfast.
“Someone who had the wrong house, sweetheart,” I said.
“Was it for Amana?” Lanie asked.
“Nope. I don’t think so,” I said.
But the mere idea of that man passing by Amanda’s cabin set me on high alert.
My phone rang again in my pocket and Tanya shooed me away. I kissed Lanie’s head as she ate her eggs, then I stepped into my room to take the call from my lawyer.
“What?” I asked.
“Called the PI I usually worked with and hired him on your behalf. I gave him all the information plus what just happened, and he wants to meet with you.”
“Meet with me?” I asked.
“This afternoon,” he said. “Did you really think you could do this and not come down off your mountain?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face and sighed. “I suppose not” I said.
“The asshole showed up at your place. He knows where you live. He wants to meet with you tomorrow. He should be calling you in the next few minutes.”
And right on cue, a number I didn’t recognize beeped in on the other line.
“That must be him. Thanks.”
“Just remember to keep your cool and document anything and everything that happens,” he reminded me. I flipped over to the other line and was met with a deadpan voice. The PI sounded almost bored, but he was shrewd and to the point. I set up a meeting with him that afternoon, agreeing to meet somewhere for lunch so we could talk.
The call was short, sweet, and left me feeling good about the position I was putting myself in. I was wary of leaving Tanya here alone with Lanie now that her father had shown up, but I had no choice. I didn’t want the PI coming here because that would spark more questions from Lanie. But I couldn’t take Lanie into town because she would want to run around and play during the meeting.
So, I showed Tanya where my shotgun was before I went to go clean myself up. I had to make the best impression I could on anyone who might see me. Now that I knew that lowlife was in town, I could run into him anywhere, and I had to appear to have the upper hand at all times.
CHAPTER 9
AMANDA
A fervent knock came at my door as I was looking at the numbers the contractor gave me. It was going to take so much more money than he had first estimated to fix just the big things. The entire porch and kitchen counter needed to be replaced, and the staircase would have to be completely reconstructed. The outlets by the sinks in the kitchen weren’t up to code, the roof had to be patched, and some of the furniture upstairs was unsalvageable because of the water leaking through the holes in the ceiling.
I was looking at a sixty-thousand-dollar overhaul, and that was only the big stuff.
The knocking pulled me from my thoughts, and I tried to clear my head. I swiped at my tears and fluffed my hair, knowing it could only be one person. I smoothed my hands over my shirt and cleared my throat, trying to cast the money out of my head as I walked to the door.
I whipped it open, however, and found a very distraught Brian standing in front of me.
“Brian?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes were stern, but his hands were fidgeting. His cheeks were red, and he was shuffling on his feet. I peeked out and looked around, trying to see if I could find Lanie. But when I didn’t, the worst ran through my mind.
“Where’s Lanie?” I asked.
“With her nanny,” he said.
Relief flooded my system as I stepped off to the side
“It’s a mess in here, but you’re welcome to come in,” I said.
Brian stepped into my home, and his body stopped. His eyes were scanning the cabin, taking stock of its desolate nature. I shut the door behind him as he slowly walked over into the kitchen, his eyes on the piece of paper I’d left out to answer the door.
I ran up behind him and snatched it off the surface, hoping he hadn’t seen. I stuffed it into my pocket as he turned and looked at me, his worried stare turning quizzical.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Brian, is Lanie all right?”
“Yeah, I think so. I mean, she will be. I—”
He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, but the sigh wasn’t of relief. It was a tense sigh. A stressed sigh.
It was the sigh of a man who was running out of options.
“Are you thirsty?” I asked.
“I wanted to ask you a favor.”
“Oh. Sure. What’s up?” I asked.
“I have a meeting with someone in town on Monday. An urgent meeting. And my nanny isn’t available to watch Lanie. She’s has doctors’ appointments lined up with her own kids all day Monday.”
“I can help out. Is everything okay? You looked really freaked about something.”
His eyes looked over at me hesitantly before he drew in a deep breath.
“No, everything’s not ok,” he finally said.
I leaned against the counter as Brian looked down at his feet. I could tell he wanted to talk, but he was in awkward territory. A man who kept himself isolated probably didn’t know how to have a conversation like this. He was rigid, to the point, and precise. He came here to ask a favor, and he asked it.
He didn’t look prepared to have a conversation, but he also didn’t leave.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
“It’s Lanie’s biological father,” he said.
That got my attention.
“He’s alive?” I asked. “I figured with you watching her he was o
ut of the picture.”
“Yeah, he’s alive, but he’s never been involved in her life. He’s unfit to be a parent,” he said.
“Oh.”
“He’s taking me to court to fight for custody of Lanie. That’s why I have to go to town, to meet with a PI that’s helping me out.”
“But if he’s an unfit parent, how can he sue you for custody?” I asked.
His eyes glanced over at me. I could see his temple throbbing with the clenching of his jaw. The questions were pissing him off, but I didn’t care. This was Lanie we were talking about. The little girl I’d come to know that enjoyed whenever I came over. The girl with the big, beautiful eyes and the brown hair that matched his.
I suddenly realized how attached I’d become to her in such a short period of time.
“When my sister gave birth, she didn’t put down Lanie’s father’s name on the birth certificate. She was cleaning herself up. You know, getting her act back together.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means my sister was a drug addict,” he said sternly.
“I’m sorry.”
“ When she found out she was pregnant, she kicked that asshole to the curb and checked herself into rehab. It was horrible, going through withdrawals while she was pregnant, but she did it. She got clean. A few months after she got out, she had Lanie, met a great guy, and they got married. He was set to adopt Lanie and raise her as his own, when the accident happened.”
I watched Brian close his eyes as he relived the horrors of his sister’s death.
“I’m so sorry, Brian,” I said.
“I was nowhere. Here. Isolated. Running from my own pathetic existence. It took them ten months to track me down. That poor baby had been in foster care for ten months,” he said, clearly disgusted with himself.
“And that’s when she came to live with you,” I said.
“Yes.”
“So if her biological father was never listed on the birth certificate, how does he even know about her?” I asked.