Now and Forever 4, The Renovated Heart

by Joachim, Jean C.

  Her first nights in the house…in a new place without Johnny…felt odd. Kit listened for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, or his voice, yelling complaints or asking her to do something yet nothing but silence greeted her. She was completely alone in a strange place.

  If the house had been new, the transition might have been easier. But an old house makes noises, the well-worn, wooden boards creak with changes in temperature, the wind whistles through old shingles and tiny gaps in the windows. Kit didn’t know what to expect. She got into bed, turned out the light but couldn’t sleep. She tossed for a while, tried reading then changed position again. Finally still, listening to the house whine and moan freaked her out. Did Tunney’s parents haunt the house… never having left?

  Turning on her laptop, Kit looked up Blue Waters tour. She clicked on a YouTube video showing the band leaving a concert with groupies chasing after them. There stood Johnny right in the thick of the young women, grinning like an idiot, while the girls threw their arms around him, kissed him, ripping at his clothing, and bared their breasts.

  While she did feel a twinge, the pain wasn’t nearly as strong as expected. She did not throw herself down and sob into her pillow. Oddly, a sense of relief washed over her. He was there, she was here in this delightful, spooky old house—strangely enough, right where she wanted to be. Maybe she didn’t love him any longer, just like he didn’t love her. Maybe their love had died a long time ago. She turned off the laptop, ready to sleep. But in the dark, she swore she heard the faintest of footsteps on the third floor stairs.

  A tremor shot through her. She called Tunney.

  “I hope you don’t want your money back already.”

  He yawned into the phone.

  “I’m calling because…because…is the house haunted?”

  Tunney let out a roar of laughter.

  “Seriously, Tunney…come on…” She chewed her lip.

  “You’re joking! If the house was haunted, I’d charge you an entertainment fee. No, the house isn’t haunted. Why? Are you seeing ghosts?” he chuckled.

  “Hearing them. Sounds like someone creaking up the stairs, opening doors…”

  “I’ve never heard anything. But I haven’t slept there in years. Old houses make funny noises…you know when they cool off at night.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Are you scared?”

  “A little…” she lied, petrified.

  “Oh, come on. Really? You’re scared of the house?”

  “Of what else might be living here.”

  “Do you want me to come over and hold your hand while you fall asleep?”

  “I couldn’t ask you to…” But she liked that idea.

  “Don’t think your husband would like that much. How about if I talk to you for a while. Get comfortable, in the bed.”

  “Okay.” She got back into bed then pulled the covers up, curling up on her side keeping the cell phone at her ear.

  “All right. Let’s talk about something not too taxing.”

  “How about politics?” She punched her pillow into a comfortable position.

  “You’re joking!”

  “I am.”

  “How about…how about plans for the future?”

  “Oh, God. I don’t…I don’t have a lot of plans for the future.”

  “No? You gonna have more kids?”

  “Not now,” she said, blushing. Of course not now, not by myself.

  “Yeah, I guess it’d be hard to get pregnant long distance.”

  His soft chuckle came through from the other end of the phone.

  “No kidding. Do you want to have kids, Tunney?

  “Sure. Someday. With the right woman.” He cleared his throat.

  “Tell me about your plans for the future.” she said, stretching out, closing her eyes.

  Tunney talked about his building business, vacations he wanted to take and within ten minutes, she had drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  Through the open curtains, the sun nudged Kit awake early. She turned off her cell phone and smiled recalling Tunney’s kindness the night before. Padding downstairs to make coffee, she noticed the house didn’t sound scary when the sun shone.

  After putting on work clothes, Kit cleaned the first and second floors. Finding her favorite corner in the parlor, she set up her writing place with her laptop and a comfortable wing chair. Kit curled up on the sofa for a coffee break. She scoured sites about renovating old houses for information about styles, traditional colors used in homes of the period, reading about the history of the era, too.

  Her mug empty, Kit turned off her machine and headed to the kitchen. The insistent tinkle of the doorbell interrupted her. She swung the old door wide to admit Tunney. Her gaze swept over him. He wore a snug t-shirt outlining his broad shoulders and powerful chest to perfection. Close-fitting jeans hugged his hips and thighs. A curious heat swept through her body when her eyes stopped at his chest. Moving up her gaze met his. For a moment, she couldn’t stop staring into his dark pools, lit by mischief mixed with a flicker of desire.

  “Coffee?” she asked him, when she found her voice.

  “Great.”

  He followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table while Kit measured grounds into her new coffeemaker for a second pot. His stare heated her body. She wore a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a low-cut tank top in a blue that matched her eyes. Her hands, roughened by detergent, plucked nervously at her shirt but couldn’t make the skimpy material hide more of her cleavage from his curious eyes.

  “I trust you got a good night’s sleep.” After adding milk and sugar to his coffee, Tunney picked up his mug for a sip, his eyes never leaving her body.

  “Thank you so much for putting me to sleep.”

  “This is the first time I actually tried to put a woman to sleep with my conversation.” he chuckled and put his mug down.

  “You were great. Thanks,” she said, stopping to plant a light kiss on his cheek.

  Tunney cleared his throat, shifted in his seat. His neck got red and she smiled at his discomfort.

  “We’ll do repairs first, like fixing cracks in the walls, the ceilings and checking out the plumbing…the fireplaces,” he said, picking up his mug, sipping his coffee, shifting his gaze to the floor.

  “Don’t you own a construction company? Why didn’t you do this when your mom was alive?”

  Kit sat down at the table across from him. Noticing he’d missed a spot with his comb, she longed to reach over and pat down his thick, glossy dark hair with her fingers. Instead, she placed both hands around her mug to keep them occupied.

  “After my dad died, Mom insisted the place stay exactly as it was. I couldn’t even have a wall re-plastered or painted. So the house has deteriorated some. I apologize.”

  “Please don’t. I love this place the way it is.” Their eyes met.

  “Friends told me not to bother renovating it, just lower the price and dump the monster.”

  “Don’t! It’s charming, with so much character.” She frowned.

  He stared at her for a long moment before mentioning his reason for being there. He pulled something out of his back pocket, placing it on the table.

  “I brought some paint chips over. I thought we’d choose colors together, since you’re going to be living here.”

  “I’ve been reading up on old houses…renovation. You’re going to keep the character of the era, aren’t you?”

  “I hadn’t planned on…”

  “Oh, you must. Let me show you something I found. Colors should go with the feeling of it.”

  Tunney pulled out a folder of paint chips while Kit retrieved her laptop. She pulled up the most recent site.

  Tunney opened the folder to the section he had selected earlier.

  “Choose something from one of these.” He sat back in his chair, draining the last of the coffee in his mug. Kit watched his biceps flex as he moved the mug. Her pulse kicked up for a moment.
r />   “Hmm, all neutrals. A house like this needs color, don’t you think?” She looked over the paint chips.

  “Neutrals sell better…makes it look bigger. If people see a dark color or a color they don’t like, they walk away. I’m selling this place, not making the house ready for a centerfold in Better Homes & Gardens.”

  “Centerfold? Aren’t you a little confused? Isn’t a centerfold for naked women?” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

  Tunney flushed. “You know what I mean,” he said, glancing at her chest.

  “You want the house to keep its character, don’t you?” she went to the counter for the coffee pot.

  “It’s just a building, Kit, not a person.”

  “But I want to do this right. The websites all say…” She held the pot up, but he put his hand over his mug so she refilled hers.

  “To hell with the websites. I know how to get a house ready to be sold.”

  “It’s yours. Still, I’d love to see lavender in the dining room.”

  “Lavender? No way. White makes a house look bigger…getting a higher price.”

  “How about in the parlor then…red in the living room?”

  “This isn’t a brothel. It’s a house for sale.”

  “Red walls don’t make a house a brothel, they give the place some style. Victorian houses often have dark paint on window sashes…according to Victorian Houses Today dot com. Can’t we at least do that?”

  “Painting trim is tricky. If you get your dark paint on the white wall, you may have to repaint the whole wall.”

  “I thought you said you wanted my input.”

  “That’s when I thought you had something to contribute.”

  She gasped and recoiled as if she had been slapped across the face. She stared at him as tears filled her eyes.

  “I’m sorry…not what I meant, after all you’re not an expert…”

  “Neither are you!” Her voice rose. She pushed to her feet and disappeared into the parlor. Before closing the door she heard his one last comment. “Crap.”

  He got up and knocked.

  “I’m sorry, Kit. Sometimes I put my foot in it. Please come out.”

  “Pick your damn colors yourself.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Please. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” He pleaded.

  Kit opened it a bit, as she wiped away the tears streaking down her face. What happened to the feisty Kit, the one Johnny talked about, always standing up to him? Buried under an avalanche of pain.

  He put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing her skin. Her breathing became steady again as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “Can we use gray, tan or cream instead of all white?”

  “Come on, let’s look at the chips again…you can pick,” Tunney said, taking her by the elbow and escorting her back to the kitchen table. She leaned against him a little wishing he would take her in his arms. His hands came toward her waist but then fall back again. Your own stupid fault. He thinks you’re married.

  * * * *

  Sitting together at the kitchen table they wrote down tasks for each room. Tunney put a timeline to each item on the list then set priorities. They ended up with pieces of paper taped together, detailing all the work. Tunney stayed until six o’clock.

  “How long do you think it’ll take to get all this done?

  “I don’t know a couple of months at least.” Tunney swallowed a smirk at the idea of being around her every day for several months until he remembered he couldn’t touch her. His smirk morphed into a frown.

  “Hey, don’t look so unhappy. I’m not hard to be with.”

  “I…you’re not at all…I only…never mind.” He picked up the tape, then fastened the make-shift list to the kitchen wall.

  “Since I’m not writing yet, I can help you.”

  “Think you’re up to it?” A mischievous glint lit up in his eyes.

  “Of course! I’m strong. Look at this muscle,” she said, flexing her arm.

  Tunney was afraid to touch her. Looking at the smooth skin of her arm started sexy thoughts in his head.

  “Go ahead. Feel it.”

  “I take your word for it.”

  “Afraid you’re wrong?”

  You’re damn right I’m afraid…afraid to touch you.

  “I believe you,” he said, backing away a little.

  “All right, then. When do we get started?”

  “Tomorrow. Come to my office in the afternoon to load up supplies.”

  “We’ll need a supply list, right?”

  “Why don’t we make it up over dinner?” he asked, looking at his watch.

  “Great, I’m starved. Let me change. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  While she was upstairs changing, Tunney fished a dress shirt out of his truck cab and slipped it on. She came downstairs wearing a soft beige skirt clinging to her hips and a matching tank top. An aquamarine pendant hung low on her chest, matching her earrings. High heeled beige leather sandals made her five foot five frame more of a match for Tunney at six two. He couldn’t stop staring at her.

  “You look beautiful,” he breathed, then averted his eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  “Steak night at Bon Appetit. Let’s go.” He opened the door for her.

  Don waved when he saw them. He escorted them to a table for two. Tunney excused himself and headed to the men’s room. On his way, Don pulled him aside.

  “What are you doing, Tunney?”

  “What?”

  “You’re dating a married woman?”

  “This isn’t a date. She did me a favor. I’m paying her back with dinner. We’re renovating my house together.” Tunney eased his arm from Don’s grasp.

  “Yeah, right. I see the way you look at her, like a wolf looks at sheep.”

  “We’re just friends.”

  “Keep telling yourself that. I don’t want to see you get hurt, buddy.”

  “Thanks…I know what I’m doing.”

  “I hope so. This chick’s trouble, beautiful trouble.”

  Chapter Seven

  When he returned to the table, Tunney ordered the steak, Kit ordered a salad. He gazed at her lips when she talked and wondered what they’d feel like pressed against his own. Then he couldn’t take his eyes off her hair, flowing naturally to her shoulders, or her enticing breasts beckoning him from her revealing neckline. His view of the tops of the soft mounds, golden in the subdued lighting, made his fingers tingle in anticipation. Nothing to anticipate. She’s married, numbskull. You can’t have her.

  Tunney’s shirt, open at the neck, revealed a little dark chest hair. He noticed her gaze settling there for a moment before moving up to his face. Horny for her husband, that’s all. Down boy.

  “Something wrong, Kit? You’re flushed. Too hot in here?”

  His eyes teased her as he tried to stop thinking about making love to her.

  “Maybe it is a little warm in here.” Tunney wrested his gaze from her chest only to stop at her bare shoulders. He wondered what it’d feel like to run his palms over the creamy skin, to stroke them with his fingertips. He couldn’t swallow for a moment. Stop looking!

  Kit got up to retreat to the ladies room, and bent over to get her purse. Tunney couldn’t keep his eyes from the view provided by her change of position. His breath stuck in his chest, his pulse leapt. He had to get control over his emotions and his groin, which hardened at the sight of her.

  Her face seemed a bit flushed.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  Her eyes met his. He saw a longing there he hadn’t noticed before. He couldn’t move, hypnotized by her ocean blues. Her gaze stayed with his.

  “Fine. Thank you,” she said, dragging her gaze away from his.

  Just as he thought he couldn’t take anymore, the food arrived. They ate faster than usual, heads down, eyes focused on their plates. Tunney reached for his water glass and looked up.

  “I’m going to be f
ixing your closet tomorrow. Would you move your clothes and your husband’s stuff to the twin bedroom?”

  “No problem,” she said then stopped, dropping her fork with a clatter on her plate. He looked up from cutting his steak.

  “Is there a problem with tomorrow?”

  Her face flushed slightly. She averted her eyes.

  “What time can I expect you tomorrow…so I can be ready?”

  “Is noon to early?”

  “Noon is fine.”

  He noticed the color drain from her face.

  “Sure you’re okay? You look pale.”

  She nodded.

  “Let’s make the supply list.”

  “Ok, shoot,” Kit said, fumbling with her pen.

  “Want me to write?” he asked.

  “I have better handwriting.” She trained her gaze on the paper.

  “Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”

  The supply list grew and grew until it became too much to get in one trip. Tunney divided it up and took the part with the items they needed first, then he drove her home. When he opened the truck door, the September evening air had cooled from the day. The first chill of fall blew over them. Kit hugged herself, shivering slightly. He put his arm around her cold shoulders and pulled her into him as he walked her up to the front door. Touching her bare shoulder sent sparks shooting down his arm, making his pulse race. When she melted into his shoulder for warmth, longing for her grew. Tunney had to use all his willpower to keep from caressing her soft, silky skin with his thumb.

  He held the door open for her. When she entered and turned to say goodbye, the moonlight kissed her hair, making her blonde locks glow. She stood close enough for her perfume to tease his nostrils. Lily of the Valley? What is her scent? Her lips, with a fresh coat of light coral lipstick, were so enticing, forgetting she was married became easy; so easy to lean down to press his lips gently to hers. Her soft lips against his, even for a moment, were heaven on Earth. Then he stepped back as reality crashed into his brain.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, wearing no look of remorse on his face.