by Kristie Cook
“I think there’s a mistake,” I managed to say once we were out of our vehicles. I’d barely been able to close my mouth after it had hung open for several minutes as I sat in my Jeep staring. “My grandfather would have never bought this kind of place, let alone let it sit like this. No, not my Pops.”
“Well, he did. He’s owned it for many a year, actually. For a while there, I had the occasional investor or couple wanting to buy it and fix it up, but your granddad kept telling me, ‘No, I’m saving it for Jacey.’ I gave up even asking him several years ago.”
I shook my head. “I have no clue what he was thinking, except it must be worth a lot of money? Maybe it’d been an investment for me?”
“Possibly,” Buck said with a noncommittal shrug. “But I doubt it. There was a reason he wanted you to see it first.”
I couldn’t imagine why. To me, it looked like nothing more than an eyesore.
“Well, I’ve seen it. And I sure as hell don’t want it. What’s it worth and how quickly do you think it can be sold?”
Buck’s eyes cut toward me. “Why don’t we go in and check out the units?”
I blew out a frustrated sigh. This trip had been a complete waste of my time, and I didn’t want to spend anymore. I needed to find a place to stay for the night, get the paperwork taken care of tomorrow, and then figure out what I’d do until the piece of shit sold. Bex said the lease on our new apartment didn’t start until August, so I had two months with no place for Sammy and me to live.
Buck was already at one of the first-floor doors, pushing it open. Four units made up the structure, with the top two served by outside, rusty metal stairs on each side of the building. The top-floor units each had a tiny balcony out front, facing the main road and a bar across the street. They might have a nice view, I thought, but I doubted it.
I reluctantly followed Buck inside the ground-floor, right-side unit, entering into an efficiency with a living area, a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a small area behind it with barely enough room for a full-size bed. The unit was actually larger than I expected, and even more disgusting. The place had apparently flooded at some point, and although no mold stained the walls, the room smelled as though mildew had tried to grow but someone had doused the place with bleach.
“We have someone come in once in a while to make sure the place hasn’t become a hazard,” Buck said, confirming my theory. “It’s actually in pretty good shape, considering. Just needs a little TLC.”
“A little?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.
“It’s really all cosmetics,” Buck said. “It’ll take a little work and some cash, but you’re really better off fixing it up than selling it right away. I think that’s what your grandfather had in mind.”
Yeah, right. Pops knew me better than that. I was far from being the fixer-upper type. On the other hand, Pops always told me not to be afraid of a little work, or even a lot of it. Was he still trying to teach me a lesson from the grave?
“How better off?” I asked skeptically.
“If you listed it now, you’d be lucky to get enough to pay my commission and all the fees and taxes. You might end up with ten grand in your pocket, at the most. If you fix it up, though, restore it to how nice it could be, you could wind up with five to ten times more, even after the cash you put into it.”
Five to ten times more? That would not only pay my tuition until graduation, but also give me a nice sum to start off with afterwards. But ... I looked around. Ugh, that was a lot of work. Could I even get it done before I had to be in Virginia for the first day of classes?
“I have no idea where to start,” I admitted. “I have no clue how to fix up a place and not a lot of time either.”
“I can recommend whatever you need. I know all the contractors around.” He pulled a stack of business cards from his front shirt pocket, shuffled through them, then handed me a few. “The one on top is my best recommendation. He’s pretty busy, but if you tell him I sent you, he’ll take care of you.”
My suspicion radar piqued at this. Why did Buck push this idea so hard? Some kind of devotion to my Pops’ wishes? I highly doubted it. Pops hadn’t even mentioned he owned this place, let alone knew anyone here well enough to care. Were Buck and this contractor in on some kind of scam?
“Look, the more you sell it for, the more commission I make,” Buck said, apparently sensing my paranoia. “Besides, I think your granddad saved this place for you for a reason. I don’t know what, maybe for the money after it’s fixed up and sold, but I do know that’s what he’d hoped for. It’s cut-and-dry to us who are older and wiser, and if I left a place for my granddaughter like this, I hope that’s what she’d do. Why don’t you give it some thought, at least?”
I glanced around the unit, taking in the peeling wallpaper, the threadbare shag rug and stained linoleum, the rusted kitchen faucet and metallic gold, itty-bitty fridge. Sucking in my courage, I made my way to the bathroom, afraid of what I would find, but it wasn’t as grody as I expected. The pink paint of the sink and tub was chipping and mildew grew in the corners, the toilet definitely needed to be replaced, as well as the flooring, but not as nasty as it could have been.
“Are the other units like this one?” I asked.
“Pretty much. The upstairs ones are a little better off since they didn’t flood with the last hurricane. We don’t have to treat them for mold but once a year, which is normal for an empty place down here with nobody cleaning and maintaining it every day. You want to see them?”
I blew out a breath. “I guess, but I can’t take long. I need to find a place to stay tonight. You know anywhere that takes dogs?”
“Why don’t you look at the rest of the units? If you don’t mind sleeping on the floor, you might decide to stay in one upstairs. I had the utilities turned on yesterday. You’ll have to run the water a while to get the rust out of the pipes, but at least you’ll have running water, air conditioning and a place for your dog.”
The thought of sleeping on a floor that who knew how many people had traipsed over disgusted me, but I had, admittedly, stayed in worse. And I did have a sleeping bag and blankets with me. Then when I entered the upstairs, left unit, I thought maybe there was hope for this place after all. It appeared as though Pops, or maybe the previous owner, had started remodeling with this unit at some point, but never made it to the others. There was no wallpaper, the carpet appeared to have been replaced though it was already outdated, the kitchen was all white with no ugly appliances from the seventies, and the bathroom was bearable. With a little scrubbing, I might have even sat my bare ass on the toilet seat.
The two upstairs units were set up a little differently than the downstairs ones. The kitchenette, bathroom, and a closet lined the rear wall and one large room made up the front, which could easily be split in half with a curtain to separate the living area from the sleeping part. Both sides had big picture windows with French doors in the middle leading out to the little balconies I’d seen from the ground. I peered through the grimy windows to find a spectacular view of the sun in the western sky over the Gulf. Of course, the bar across the street was also part of the view, but it didn’t completely ruin the scene.
Uh-oh. The potential was definitely growing on me. This place could actually be really cute, a perfect little beach getaway for college kids or couples on a budget. Definitely not the big beach house down the road, but who needed all that space anyway? And the money to be made was becoming more and more tempting. It would be nice to know I didn’t have to work throughout college and I’d still have money to live on while I launched my career. Hell, maybe I could even take a break first. Or better yet—make my dream of being a professional artist come true!
My mind ran away with these thoughts, almost convincing myself right there as Buck watched me. But the practical side of me kicked in right in time. Before I made a decision, I needed to
find out how much this would cost me. I had money from the rest of Pops’ estate. It was supposed to be for next year’s tuition and rent, but this could be an investment with great returns. Was it enough, though? And how long would this take? If it couldn’t be done and sold by the time classes started, I’d be screwed, my tuition and rent money tied up in this place. And what if there’s more wrong with it than meets the eye?
“I’ll get back to you, okay?” I asked Buck as I rubbed the back of my neck. “There’s a lot to think about.”
“Of course. I think your grandfather would be happy to hear that. Nothing like seeing our offspring making smart decisions.” He gave me what he probably meant to be a grandfatherly smile, but I found it a little creepy. “Give that contractor a call as soon as you can. To be honest, I already told him you were coming, so he’s expecting to hear from you. I hope that’s okay. I promised your granddad I’d help out however I can.”
He winked at me, which definitely grossed me out. I walked outside with him, cringing as the metal stairs creaked under our weight. Buck swore they were safe and Sammy didn’t worry, bounding up and down them with no troubles, but I did. If I went through with this, they would be the first thing to be replaced. Because I definitely wanted to stay in the top-left unit while I was here.
Once Buck finally drove off after giving me a quick run-down of where I could find dinner, breakfast, and a store, I unpacked the Jeep, carefully trudging up the stairs.
“Well, Sammy, I guess this is home,” I said as I poured a bowl of food for him. “For now anyway.”
He stood on his hind legs, placed his paws on my shoulders and licked my face. His seal of approval. And if Sammy, the smartest dog in the world, liked the place, and Pops, the smartest man in the world, had kept it for me, then who was I to question it?
The bar across the street served food, and although it wasn’t one of Buck’s recommendations, it was close and I could bring Sammy so I wouldn’t look like a total nerd eating by myself. The rear part of the bar had a large patio area that spilled onto the beach, and we sat out there as the sun lowered in the sky, Sammy keeping me company while I ate a burger and fries. The food wasn’t bad and the atmosphere righteous, but when people—couples and groups—began filling up the place for cocktails and the live band setting up to play later, I took my cue to leave.
I used their pay phone out front to check in with Bex.
“I’m sorry, who is this?” Bex’s mom asked, catching me off guard.
“It’s me, Jacey. From college?”
“Oh, huh. I don’t think Rebecca has ever mentioned you. Does she have your number, honey?”
Bex had always talked about her mom losing her mind, but this was the first time I’d ever heard it for myself. How many times had I met her? Stayed at their house for the weekend? Shaking my head, I simply said, “No, I don’t really have one right now. I’m in Florida. I’ll call back another time.”
“She’s not here much, dear. She’s moved into her apartment at school and spends most of her time there with her roommate. But I can tell her you called.”
And before I could say anything, the line went dead. Bex’s roommate? She had to have been lying to her mother. That was the only explanation, which was better than the alternatives—Bex was pissed at me and had found someone to replace me or her mother really had gone over the deep end. The first one sucked for me and the second one really sucked for her. But as it was, I worried about her. She hadn’t said anything two nights ago about going anywhere else or moving in with anyone for the summer. So where was she really?
The question gnawed at me as Sammy and I took a walk before heading back to our new place. Well, our temporary place. I still wasn’t sure whether to trust Buck’s suggestion. While Sammy ran up and down the white beach and nipped at the gentle waves sliding onto shore, I squished my butt into the soft sand and shuffled through the business cards Buck had given me. Only half of the sun showed over the horizon, streaking the sky with pinks and purples and providing barely enough light for me to study the cards.
I couldn’t help my suspicion of the first one, bright orange paper with black ink, because Buck had been recommending him so highly. Maybe that makes no sense, but I didn’t quite trust Buck himself. The second card, white with metallic gold lettering, made me think of high dollar signs. The last wasn’t a card at all, but a scrap piece of paper with the name Humphrey and a phone number handwritten in blue ink. This one piqued my interest—probably cheap and perhaps a little rebellious of the “professional” establishment. Just my type. If I decided to do this, the handwritten number would be the first one I called.
Probably the smartest thing I should do, though, was talk to another real estate agent and make sure I wasn’t sinking a bunch of dough into something that would never sell for what I put into it. That would be the mature adult decision, and whether I had wanted to or not, I’d been forced to become a mature adult.
When Sammy and I re-entered the upstairs unit, I sure didn’t feel like one. My gaze slid over the dark room and I suddenly felt like a little girl, lost and alone. Completely alone. I barely made it through the door before the grief slammed into me. I curled into a ball on the pallet I’d already made with my sleeping bag and blankets, and I bawled. Sammy lay against me, trying to lap up my tears, but he gave in when they fell too fast for him to keep up.
I hadn’t cried like this since Trudy had called me at the dorm to tell me about Pops. In fact, I hadn’t cried at all since the funeral, constantly keeping myself busy, moving, looking to the next thing to be done. The tasks were brainless, no tough decisions to be made since Pops had already made them. All but one, anyway. Now nothing more remained to do except take care of this rundown apartment building. And I had to make a decision without any idea of what Pops really wanted—if this place was so important to him, why had he never mentioned it before?—and without anyone I knew to give me advice I could trust.
“Pops,” I said aloud when the tears dried, “I don’t know if you’re there, if you can hear me. I never thought so, and you probably aren’t. You’re dead and gone and I have to accept that. But ... but if there’s any chance you are ... can you please help me? I don’t know what to do. I have no clue what you would want me to do. Please, Pops, if there’s such thing as souls and spirits and you have any way of still being here in some kind of form, please tell me. Give me a sign. I can’t do this by myself.”
Of course, he didn’t answer. He was gone. The ideas of souls and spirits and “next lives” were simply comfort tools used to help people cope with the death of loved ones. Pops was gone. No part of him remained to give me answers or even a sign.
When I was ten, an old lady ran a stoplight and T-boned Pops and me, slamming into the driver’s side. Pops suffered a couple of broken ribs and we both had some scratches and bruises, but at the time, I believed he was going to die. “Don’t worry, little bird, I’ll never leave you,” he’d promised but even then I knew better. After all, my parents had left me, hadn’t they? Everyone dies. I dreamt of that accident, the screech of the brakes and slam of metal against metal ringing in my ears, but in my dream, Pops never looked at me to say he’d never leave me. Because he already had.
I awoke slowly, the sounds of the accident still reverberating in my mind. It took me a few seconds to realize they weren’t in my dream or my head. The horrible sound of metal scraping against metal and concrete came from right outside, followed by a loud crash. I rushed to the door and threw it open.
Three things happened simultaneously:
My gaze landed on the metal staircase to my door laying on its side on the ground where a dark-haired man stood frowning at it.
I yelled, “What the hell?”
And my body remained on its trajectory through the door ... and into nothing but empty air.
Chapter 10
My arms
flailed. My stomach fell faster than the rest of me, and a scream ripped through my throat and out my mouth. And the next thing I knew, I slammed into a hard body, strong arms catching me without a waver in their owner’s stance. My breath heaved out and didn’t return. A jolt of energy ran through my body, a tingling sensation hitting every nerve. With eyes bugging out of my head, I looked up into my savior’s face. He stared back at me with astonished—and familiar—eyes.
“I know you.” This time, the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, even while the word dyad whispered in my mind.
Something sparked in his own brown eyes—the same sense of familiarity. Neither of us seemed to be able to break the lock we had on each other.
“I don’t think so,” he muttered gruffly. “Are you okay? Can I put you down?”
His gaze scanned my body carefully as though he studied every freckle for injury, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. Embarrassed, I struggled in his arms until finally he set me on my feet. The sound of Sammy’s bark from the doorway registered in my brain. I gave him the silence sign, and he quieted.
“Looks like you’ll live,” the guy said, and his sarcasm hit me the wrong way.
“How did you do that?” I demanded. Sure he had a muscular form—a very nice, delicious form that made him the epitome of “tall, dark, and handsome”—and I weighed no more than a buck-ten, but still. “How did you catch me so easily from a two-story fall?”
He smirked. “It’s not exactly two stories. If you were on the roof, that would be two stories.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You know what I mean. How did you do it?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. You were falling. Someone had to catch you, and since no one else was around, I volunteered.” He shrugged. “It was my fault anyway. Guess I felt obligated. Don’t make me regret it, okay?”