by Kim Law
“Dogwoods.”
“They’re gorgeous.” She looked up at him. Scary or not, she could see them both living there. Raising a family there. “Can we go in?”
“Absolutely.”
Before moving toward the house, she pulled her camera out of the back pocket of her jeans and made a picture. The house felt inviting. She could no longer envision what it had been like before, and wondered how she’d ever thought she didn’t like the place.
As she stepped up on the porch, she stalled. There were the two rockers that he’d already put there, but also an old, large milk can sitting between them. It was black, but appeared to be the original paint. With the lid on, it made a flat surface across the top.
“Did that…” She paused and looked back at Nick, wracking her brain for a memory. “Did you find that here somewhere?”
She thought maybe it had been Pepaw’s, but wasn’t sure.
He nodded. “In one of the sheds out back. This looked like a good place for it. It’ll make a nice spot to set down a drink.”
He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. She gripped his in return. She had the strongest feeling that GiGi would have liked the new look. She moved her sights on around the porch, noticing the scrubbed concrete they stood on, but it was what hung at the end of the space that caused her to lose her breath.
“GiGi’s swing,” she murmured. Her chest ached when she looked at it. It was the one from the picture Nick had asked her about that first night they’d been together. Her eyes teared up as she remembered all the times she used to sit on this porch rocking with her grandmother. “Where did you find it?”
“In the same shed.”
She turned loose of his hand and went over to it, pushing it lightly, then closed her eyes at the sound of the familiar squeak where the chain rubbed against the hook at the top. Seeing it hurt her even more, knowing how she and GiGi had grown so far apart.
“Do you like it? It’s part one of your birthday present.”
She opened her eyes and looked at Nick. She nodded. How could she not? This was what belonged in this spot.
“Let’s go see the inside,” she said, suddenly eager to see what else he’d done.
They went through the house, checking out every nook and cranny, and she couldn’t help but be all smiles. It was more than she’d ever imagined, but at the same time, it was exactly what she’d imagined. She glanced at Nick. How had he known what was in her heart?
The wood floors were rich and homey, the matte, cream walls were empty canvases, just waiting for a family to fill them with life, and the staircase literally glistened with polish as she made her way up. Nick had done well. It was a showplace.
She stopped in the room that had once been hers and looked out the back window, her heart swelling at the additional landscaping he’d planted in the yard. He had envisioned something spectacular, all right. Nick stepped up behind her, the heat from his body drawing her to him. He put an arm around her waist.
“Close your eyes and tell me what you see,” he whispered. It was the same words he’d said to her that first day. She’d seen nothing then. But today…
She closed her eyes. “I see life. I see happiness.” She swallowed past a lump. “I see hope.”
He kissed her temple and she wished GiGi had gotten the chance to see the house. She would have loved it.
When she opened her eyes, she was still looking out over the yard. He’d even created a little oasis in the back corner with a hammock and a water feature. She could picture the two of them lying there talking, relaxing after a long day at work.
“You did a lot this week,” she said.
“I called in some favors from guys back home or there was no way this would’ve all gotten finished in time.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Whoever bought this house would love it.
Her eyes backed up with tears eager to come out. She wanted to live there.
She didn’t want to sell it.
“Wait’ll you see the third floor,” Nick announced. He grabbed her hand and led her to the small staircase that wound up one floor as she worked to put her emotions about the house back where they belonged. Out of sight.
When they reached the top, she stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to check out first. There were the two small nooks in the dormer windows. Nick had put navy throw pillows and small reading lights in each, with a long bookshelf running underneath. The slant of the roof took space away from the room, but gave it an intimate feel at the same time, while the darker walls, more of a warm caramel color, added to the feel. She could imagine escaping up here with a husband when they needed a few moments alone from the kids.
She looked at Nick, picturing him escaping with her.
Then she turned to the bed he’d put in the room. It sat in the middle of the floor, and wasn’t the lumpy mattress, cheap headboard piece of furniture that had been in the room he’d been using downstairs. This was a rustic-looking, carved wooden bed with thick spindles in a light-honey color. There was a navy-and-green quilt smoothed over it as a bedspread. She sat down and gave a little bounce.
“Is this a new mattress?” She ran her palm over the cool wood of the footboard. “And bed?”
Nick lowered beside her, picking up her hand and holding it in his. “I found the bed in the garage and cleaned it up, but the mattress, yes. I bought that new.”
“Why?” she asked. “For staging for the open house?”
The other rooms hadn’t had furniture in them. He’d even moved his stuff out of the bedroom he’d been using. She supposed it was hidden away up here now.
“For sleeping in tonight.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her so tenderly that she whimpered when he pulled away. “I want to spend the night in this room with you. I want to spend many nights in this room with you.” He whispered the last sentence and she had the thought that he was saying more than “until the house is sold.”
Until then… she nodded, already picturing the candles she had that she could bring over. And some big fluffy towels to go in the connected bathroom. There was a giant tub she’d spotted in there that she wanted to try out with Nick.
“That sounds like a lovely way to spend my birthday.”
He laughed, the sound so warm she caught herself leaning into him to soak it up. “Oh sweetness,” he said. “Spending the night in this room is not your birthday present. It’s simply a bonus for me.”
With that, he pulled a box out from under the bed. It was wrapped in a pretty pink paper.
“You got me a present? A real present?” She couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Lee Ann had gotten her a gift for her birthday.
“Of course I did.” He set it on her lap. “Open it.”
Childlike anticipation flooded her as she forgot about being an adult and ripped into the paper. Once she had the ribbon and wrapping tossed to the floor, she sat staring at the white box, so excited she almost didn’t want to open it. Just getting something was enough.
“Open. It.” He enunciated carefully.
She did.
Inside was an authentic Nashville Predators jersey with her favorite player’s name and autograph on it. Alongside it were two tickets for seats on the glass. For tonight’s game. Her eyes went round.
“You have got to be kidding me!” she practically shouted. “On the glass?” She shoved everything off her lap and attacked the man sitting beside her, knocking him to the bed as she crawled on top of him, planting kisses everywhere she could reach. Straddling him, she pushed up off his chest and smiled. “Now that’s a birthday present.”
Nick put the truck into park for the second time that day with Joanie sitting on the seat beside him, and prepared to show her a house. Only this time, they were in Nashville, and the house was his. They’d wrapped up at the Barn earlier, signed the papers with Jane—even though he’d almost suggested they hold off—then Joanie had changed into her jersey and they’d headed to Nashvill
e.
“Wow,” Joanie said. She leaned forward on her seat and peered up at the two-story brick.
“You like it?” He pulled the keys from the ignition but didn’t make a move to get out yet. When they’d left Sugar Springs, he’d been on the fence about whether to show it to her or not.
In his mind, it didn’t really matter at this point. He couldn’t see her living there with him.
But he could see himself living at the Barn with her. He just had to hold that one close to the vest until she was ready to hear it. And hope like hell it didn’t sell before he could talk her into it.
In the end, simple pride had driven him to his decision. He’d wanted to show Joanie the house he’d built. The one he’d once pictured bringing a wife home to and filling with kids. Now it was not much more than a place to go to bed at night. That’s all it had been for years.
But he was still proud of it.
“I love the natural colors in the brick,” she said. “Far better than a boring red brick. And the front porch is so cozy.” She looked at him with a grin in her eyes. “You going to show me the inside or is this all I get?”
He laughed and opened his door. “Mess with me, woman, and I’ll show you my bedroom first.”
She shot him a wicked grin that made him consider his threat, then met him at the front of the truck. They walked hand in hand to the front door. It felt good having her with him like that. It felt right.
“Yoo-hoo,” a singsong voice rang out from the street. “Hello, Nick.”
He and Joanie turned at the same time to find his neighbor, Nancy Porter, standing at the end of his driveway. She had on black yoga pants, some sort of light-blue exercise top, and bright white tennis shoes that had probably never done a day’s honest exercise in their life. Also outfitting her was an iPod strapped around her bicep, earbuds wrapped around her neck—but not in her ears—and the various diamond rings she’d convinced her husband to buy her, all circling her fingers.
“Hi Nancy. How are you today? I’d like you to meet my friend Joanie.” He nodded his head to Joanie, but kept a firm grip on her, wanting to make sure she didn’t get some crazy notion to turn him loose and reel the other woman in. Nancy was like a vampire. If you invited her across the driveway threshold, she suddenly felt free to pop in all the time.
Yet if he didn’t go to the trouble to introduce the two women—which was the only reason Nancy would have come over the instant he’d arrived home—she wouldn’t go away.
“Nice to meet you,” Nancy said in her southern drawl. Her smile was friendly, but Nick didn’t miss how her gaze lingered over the orange tips of Joanie’s hair. They did things traditionally in this neighborhood. Bright orange hair stood out. “Looks like you’re going to a game,” she said.
Joanie’s hockey jersey must have been a dead giveaway.
The three of them had a moment of chitchat before Nancy smiled and took in Joanie’s hair one more time, then she was on her way back to the house across the street. Nick was certain she would be on the phone to several other neighborhood wives within minutes. She was his very own Mrs. Kravitz from that old show Bewitched.
Joanie glanced at him as he unlocked his front door, a laugh in her eyes.
He just shook his head. “Nancy is Winding River’s Beatrice Grayson and Reba London all rolled into one.”
“Ah.”
He could see her processing that though he lived in a bigger city, small-town gossip still ran rampant.
He pushed open the door, holding it wide for her to step through. The alarm was beeping so he followed her in and turned it off.
“You built this?” she asked as she wandered through the rooms.
“I did. About seven years ago.”
When she got to the kitchen with the oversize gas stovetop and the copper hood, she took it all in and then glanced at him. She ran a hand lightly over the thick slab of granite covering the square island. “Did you build this kitchen for you to cook in, Nick? Or for a woman?”
Heat touched his cheeks. She had such a way of pegging him. “I guess I’d have to say both.”
“So you were serious about someone?”
He tossed his keys on the counter, somewhat embarrassed to tell her that when he’d started building the house, he’d thought he’d found the one. “It was years ago. After she dumped me, I realized it had been more about her two kids than her,” he said. “I was crazy about them.”
“So what happened?” Beautiful, understanding eyes peered up at him.
He shrugged. “Said I was a nice guy, but not the guy for her.”
She said nothing to that, only lifted her eyebrows in question. The movement produced a very thin horizontal line high on her forehead.
“It was a running theme for a while,” he admitted. “You’re such a good guy, Nick, but… Hell, I brought one girl here after we’d gone out a few times. She took one look, told me I was a good guy, then shook her head and slowly backed away.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the thought. “The allure of the ‘bad boy’ is strong for some women. I guess seeing my house drove the point home that I was never going to be that guy.”
He grabbed Joanie’s hand and led her out of the room. Enough sounding like a schmuck. He’d figured out over the last few weeks what the problem had been. None of those women had been his type either.
But Joanie was.
“I think you’re a good guy,” she said. She peeked into the oversize den and he could see she was impressed at the sunken, comfortable room. This was where he spent most of his time. Other than in his bedroom, sleeping. “I’ve even told you that a time or two,” she added.
“You have,” he agreed. “I cringed at first.”
They stopped in the guest bath and she looked up and met his eyes in the mirror. “You don’t cringe now?”
She looked so cute in her Preds jersey and tight jeans. She’d added a blue and gold scarf headband to her blond and orange hair. He had never seen a more perfect woman.
He shook his head. “Now I hope you think I’m a good guy. You see it as something different than all those other women.”
A half smile curved her mouth and he turned her to him and kissed her. He wanted to make love to her in his house—though there was no time for that at all. They had a game to get to and he was not going to let her be late.
“I want to be a good guy for you,” he whispered when they came up for air. “Because you haven’t had those in your life.”
She’d told him about her first boyfriend as they’d shared stories late one night. About how he’d talked her out of her panties and then forgot to talk to her the next day. Or the next.
When Nick had learned the guy still lived in Sugar Springs, he’d had the urge to pay him a visit. Joanie had convinced him that it had been a long time, and she had gotten over it years ago. Maybe she had, but it had left a lasting impact.
It had added to her belief that she was on her own in the happiness department.
“I want to make you happy,” he told her as he looked down at her. He almost added the word “forever,” but wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it yet. They were getting closer, though. Before the night was over, he was going to make sure she understood that the love he felt was real. It wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was he.
She gave him a slight nod. “You do make me happy.” Then she peeked around his shoulder, back out into the hall. “You have a bedroom around here, somewhere?”
“Oh no,” he said. “There’s no time for that tonight, babe.” He grabbed her hand in his and continued the tour. “Another time, though. Definitely.”
She laughed. “Maybe I’ll visit you here someday. I’ll show up in my van to see what Nancy thinks about that.”
Her tone was light, but he knew the way the other woman had looked at her had bothered her.
“When are you coming home, anyway?” Joanie glanced casually at him as they took the stairs to the second floor, but he sensed the tension in her. Her house r
emodel was done. He’d already spent six weeks away from here. It only made sense he return. And he did need to. He’d talked to his partner earlier that day and confirmed he’d be at the office sometime next week.
Though he had yet to figure out how to make a Sugar Springs to Nashville commute a reality. Until he convinced Joanie they were meant for each other.
“Supposed to be back in a few days,” he finally admitted. He didn’t want to come back at all. “Probably Wednesday. Maybe Thursday.”
Her face lost a bit of its glow. Which was good. He thought.
Meant she wasn’t ready for him to leave.
“So…” she said, seemingly at a loss for words.
“You’re not dumping me just because I have to come back for a bit,” he told her. He gave her another hard kiss. “We’ll figure it out.”
He had it figured out already, though the solution had come as both a shock and a seemingly easy answer. But when something was right, he knew it.
He’d sell his house. He’d move to Sugar Springs. It had everything he wanted. Joanie. A brother. Nieces.
Family.
He could make anything else work. He might even sell off his half of the business here. That was something he intended to talk to his partner about. Because the picture of him growing the business in Sugar Springs while Joanie baked cupcakes every day and came home to him at night was the right one. He wanted to make that happen.
Joanie didn’t reply.
When she came out of one of his five bedrooms, her words made his heart stop. “I tried to sell Cakes this week.”
“Why would you do that?”
She shrugged, not looking at him. “It’s what I do.”
He had to wonder if her not tying herself to businesses had anything to do with her not tying herself to relationships. It was interesting that she seemed to have the same hang-ups with both facets of her life.
Of course, the “curse” didn’t extend to her business, but he had the suspicion that her problem was more fear of commitment. To anything. She was used to constantly changing, all the way down to her hair. Probably it was easier never to admit how badly she wanted something than to risk going for it and it potentially turning out badly.