37
In the silent, dusty house that smells of mold and despair, I sit on the banister and let a tear slide down my cheek. “This is my dream,” I moan. I officially rent this house, and now all I can see and feel is the mess it’s in. The water stain on the ceiling in the parlor seems larger than it did when I was here with Davis. The kitchen floor has buckled in places, and there is a dripping noise I can’t detect the source of. How much will it cost to restore it to a functioning bed and breakfast? Scenes from The Money Pit flash before my eyes.
Clearly, Davis has let me know that I can’t change a thing. Yet there is no way I can open an establishment to the public that looks this dilapidated. We can use the money Sheerly and her group raised to pay for a new faucet in the kitchen and maybe an industrial dishwasher, but what about the more costly items?
Holding my cell in one hand and wiping tears with the other, I debate whether or not I should call Mom and Dad and admit failure. I see my mother’s face looking sternly at me, telling me that we, as a family, don’t stay defeated, that we rise up because we know God always helps those who ask.
Although Davis told me he’d leave a key at the reception desk, Bev could not find it when I stopped by. While she searched in between answering the phone, my rage soared. Does he want me to have this house, or not? Did he only give me the papers in a moment of passion?
Bev said that there was one more drawer she’d look in and perhaps it would hold the key. As she talked to a client, my thoughts tamed. I like Davis Erickson. He’s handsome, educated, established in his career, and is the Baileys’ grandson. He said I’m the one to run the Bailey House, and I believe that, too. Yet he doesn’t seem to realize that this place needs work before it can reopen. So that it can begin making money I can then use to pay him rent.
Suddenly, bringing the crisp autumn air in with her, Vanessa walked into the office. Dressed in a black dress with a string of pearls glistening around her neck, she waved at me.
What is she doing here? my mind screamed.
She gave me a small smile and said, “Good luck with the Bailey House.”
“Thanks.” Bev held out a key to me, and I grasped it.
“You are lucky to be in love,” said Vanessa.
“In love?” Would it be strange if I asked, “With whom?”
“If there is one thing I can tell, it’s love in the eyes.” She spoke with clarity and authority—a saleswoman well aware of a product.
Love in the eyes? Sounds like a line from a song by Sheerly.
With Vanessa’s words fused into my heart, I walked out of Davis’s office, ambling to the right and then to the left, almost forgetting where I’d parked. I pulled my keys out of my jeans pocket, and with that motion, confusion left me. I remembered Vanessa smiling at me across the room at the fundraiser when I was seated next to Buck. That was when she must have sensed something between us.
Now I walk around to survey the home once more. I want to hear music and laughter, but only dust, dingy floors, and that stain in the parlor’s ceiling cry out to me. Minnie and I hope to have the place restored and operating by Christmas, starting with a celebratory open house. Yet here it is September and we have so much work to do in order for that open house with lighted topiaries and lemon cookies to take place.
My head is in my hands when I hear familiar footsteps across the floor. “You need to come home.” Minnie stands before me; her solemn eyes look into mine.
“Why?”
“Buck is coming over to see us, to see you.”
I wipe my eyes, sniff. “Buck? Why?”
“He needs to tell you something.”
Has Buck ever come to my house before? What news would be important enough to bring him? “Why?”
She won’t look at me now. “Come on, we need to get home before he gets there.”
“What about Zane? Where is he?” I look at my watch. Ropey was to bring him home from a boat ride a half hour ago at six. And I was supposed to be there to let Zane in—the responsible adult. “Is Zane okay?”
“Ropey and Beatrice Lou have invited him for dinner.”
I remember when he used to refuse to stay at their home. And when he was petrified of boats. “Did he like the boat ride? Did he do all right?”
Minnie sighs and helps me off the banister. “Yes, he loves that boat almost as much as Ropey does. I try not to think about it too much. I just suck in all my fears.”
We walk to the front door, and my mind flashes back to the two of us entering the large house with our school bags. “Remember how whenever we came here, Mrs. Bailey was so happy to see us?”
“Yes, and you always let me in the door first.”
“Do you know why I did that?”
“Because I had to be first.”
I halt in my tracks. I can’t believe she knows this about herself.
“I had to be first to get married and to have a child.”
“You did?”
“You had everything, Jackie. I wanted something that you didn’t have.”
My lower lip quivers, and I wonder if I’m going to cry again. “You were the beautiful one!”
A serene look crosses her face, not her argumentative look that I’ve grown to anticipate over the years. “You had a mom and dad who loved each other and a brother who was so cute.”
“You got a date with Benny Saforrn.”
“He never liked me. He only used me to get to Tina Plymouth.”
I want to hug her, but I also don’t want to cry anymore.
So I let her lead me out of the Bailey House. She waits as I lock the door. “It was nice being back inside,” she says.
Then we walk to our cars. Slowly, I follow her down Route 12.
She still likes to be first.
Minutes after we pull in to the driveway, Buck arrives. He’s still in his Grille shirt. The sun hits his face and I think how handsome he is.
We all enter the duplex and find room to sit amongst Zane’s toys.
Minnie looks at Buck as I imagine the worst. He’s going to tell me he’s moving to California. Or that he’s in love and getting married at Second Methodist. I gulp and think it’s a good thing I bought a big box of tissues the other day.
Buck shifts his feet and won’t look me in the eye. I feel discomfort in his gestures and in the air around the living room. I want to blurt, “Hey, let’s all go have dinner at that new Chinese place in Nags Head.” But we’ve all just driven from Nags Head to gather here, in my duplex.
Minnie runs her tongue over her lips and after drawing a deep breath says, “Buck knows something about the Bailey House.”
38
The ceiling fan shakes like an old woman’s hand.
Buck clears his throat.
Dear God, I silently pray, you know I’m a wimp. I can only handle so much. I’m not strong like Minnie. Don’t let anything hurt her anymore. She’s been through enough.
Buck’s eyes catch mine from across the room where he sits on a dining room chair. He makes no attempt to smile.
My fingers knot into a ball.
“This is about Davis,” he begins.
Minnie nods from where she’s seated on the armchair.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Buck clears his throat again. “I don’t know how much you already know, Jackie, but Minnie thinks you need to know everything.”
I swallow as my skin feels like pins are scratching its surface.
“Davis is the Baileys’ grandson. He was given full ownership of the Bailey House when his grandparents got too old to take care of it.”
“I know that,” I say.
Looking at me, Buck says, “Years ago he had a buyer for the place.”
Minnie nods when Buck pauses.
“Well . . .” He draws a deep breath. There are lines in his brow, something I’ve not seen before. “I was working with my dad then. We were working on the Bailey House. A couple from Michigan was all ready to buy it, but they wanted the u
pstairs bathrooms remodeled. As my dad and I did the work, we discovered a lot more needed to be done.”
“A lot more? Like what?”
“For one, there was water damage that showed up in the ceilings and walls. The drywall was crumbling both in one of the upstairs bathrooms and in the smallest downstairs bathroom. Rotting, actually.”
“So?”
“Dad and I told Davis the problems we found and said that we’d fix them. Davis refused.”
“What do you mean refused?” My voice is louder than I like it to be.
“He said the couple wanted new bathrooms and that was what Dad and I were contracted to repair. Nothing more.”
Minnie holds on to her stern look as Buck continues.
“That house has structural issues. What it needs is for these to be repaired, not just plastering over them like Davis wanted us to do.”
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“Dad and I got into an argument and that’s why we don’t work together anymore.”
For a moment we are all silent.
Buck says, “Davis didn’t want us to let the word out that the Bailey House needed thousands of dollars worth of repair. He basically told us to fix what he’d asked us to fix and no more. And when I said that he needed to repair pipes and drywall due to leaks throughout the place, he said that we were not to do that and not to tell anyone about it.”
“Why?” My mind spins. I look to Minnie and then at Buck. “Why was he trying to cover it up?”
“He knew that I was adamant that the place be properly restored; anything less wouldn’t be up to code. But Davis didn’t want to spend the money.”
I see the car he drives and the price of the meals he orders at restaurants. I never thought he was cheap.
Buck looks at Minnie and then at me. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that the railing is missing. With seven steps leading up to the house, there needs to be a railing.”
I’d forgotten about that railing that led up to the house. As kids, we slid down the wooden banister—when Ogden wasn’t looking. “What happened to it?”
“I think the railing was probably destroyed in the last hurricane. Davis hasn’t bothered to replace it, even though the house doesn’t meet code without it.”
My hands are clenched as disbelief jabs at my mind.
“Davis threatened me if Dad and I told on him.” Buck’s voice is hard, as though he has to force the words out. “He said he’d make life unbearable for us. He has a lot of clout in the area. He could have ruined my dad’s business.”
I feel a dull pain pulsating in my temples.
“Dad said to let it go and just repair what Davis wanted us to. I said that buyers needed to know of the damage the house had. Dad didn’t agree, and I said I couldn’t do it.”
“Do what?” I ask.
“I couldn’t work for a guy who lied and ignored safety issues.”
I feel my muscles grow taut, as if I want to hit something. “Davis told me that the bathrooms were remodeled when his grandparents owned the place, just years before they left for Ohio to retire.”
“No.” Buck shakes his head. “Dad did those.”
I think of the new toilets, sinks, mirrors, and floors in each of the upstairs bathrooms. They looked nice. “He did a good job.”
“Dad does good work. But I don’t see how he let Davis convince him that it was okay not to do it right.”
“He wasn’t really covering up, was he? I mean, your dad just did what Davis wanted and contracted him to do. It wasn’t his responsibility to fix the whole place. He was only the contractor.”
Buck shifts in his chair. “I saw it differently then. Over the years, I’ve tried to see it Dad’s way. Dad and I don’t talk about it nowadays. I thought I was done with having to worry about the Bailey Place.” His expression softens. “Then you came along, determined to open it again.” After a pause, he adds, “I think his wife wanted him to sell the place, but he wouldn’t.”
“Whose wife?”
“Davis was married.”
“He was?” Wouldn’t he have told me something like that? I look to Minnie, who seems just as confused as I am.
“On a pontoon boat.”
Right as the words come from his mouth, I hear another voice, the one that repeatedly said each time we drove over the inlet bridge, “He got married on a pontoon boat.” Irvy did know more than I gave her credit for.
“Yeah, about seven years ago. He met her in Ohio. They were married here in the Sound on this huge pontoon. They divorced after a year or so.”
“And you knew?”
Minnie looks shocked to hear me raise my voice.
“Sure, lots of people knew. Your relatives probably knew.”
I realize then that I haven’t been very open with my family about Davis. I let the frustration wipe its ugly hand over me and then say, “I wish you’d told me.”
“Hatteras, I didn’t want to talk about Davis with you if I could help it.”
“But you could have said something.”
“I told you to get the place inspected before signing, remember? I hoped that would have then led you to see how much work the place needs.” In a softer tone he adds, “Besides, Davis likes coming to the Grille. He’s been a regular since way before I began working there. Blake thrives on his business and the business of all his clients.”
“I would have chewed him to bits if I had been you,” I say hotly.
“And you were dating him. I didn’t want to be negative about him.”
“If you dated someone deceitful, I would tell you.”
Buck seems to think about this. “Well, that’s my fault. I guess I’m not good with confrontation.” He rubs his chin, looks down, and then up at me again. “Obviously I stink at these kinds of things.”
“But you are telling Jackie now,” says Minnie, trying to smooth things over.
Buck lets his eyes hold mine. “I hope it’s not too late.”
Before he leaves, he hugs Minnie.
“Thanks, Buck,” she says and gently pats his arm.
Then he turns to me.
There is a second when I’m uncertain of what he’s going to say or do, but when he wraps his arms around my waist, the uncertainty dissipates as the ease of how well we fit together surprises me.
His face is only inches from mine. “I didn’t want to have to tell you all this,” he says. “I guess part of me assumed that Davis would confess the truth, since you two were dating.”
I wonder if anyone has ever felt more foolish than I do right now. Davis’s face appears in my mind. I lower my gaze, squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to shoo it away like a fly at a picnic. I lift my face to Buck. “Please be more honest with me from now on.”
His eyes are solemn and distant. He lets go and moves away from me.
Minnie says, “Well . . .”
Buck and I stand silently as she climbs the stairs with her phone. Within seconds she’s made a call to Ropey, telling him he can bring Zane home now.
When Buck exits the duplex, I stare out at the driveway from the living room window, listening to the longing of my heart. Buck’s Jeep pulls out and is gone. A voice inside my heart reminds me that he’s proven once again that he’s a good man—honest, sincere, and moral.
When I turn from the window, I’m gripped by another emotion. This one is not silent. I kick a plastic ball Zane has left under the coffee table. The sphere hits the wall and bounces back at me with a force that causes me to kick the toy again.
I want to head over to Davis’s house and force him to admit to everything. Then I realize with a jolt that I don’t know where he lives. He’s never invited me to his house, nor has he taken me to Arlington, as he promised he would.
I’ve never even had a ride on his pontoon boat.
39
I think decks are built for contemplation. I bet many politicians and judges have made decisions after being on a wooden structure, suspended above whatever lies beneath. I stand
on our deck, looking at the rosebush in the dirt below. A couple minutes ago I noticed my neighbor Mrs. Appleton watching me with a pair of binoculars.
Minnie joins me under a spattering of stars accompanied by a moon that looks like a polished bowling ball. She’s put on a sweatshirt and asks if I’d like one, too. “Getting chilly.” When I don’t comment, she asks, “You okay?”
“I will be.” I feel like the ache in my heart has spread throughout my whole body, even my fingertips.
Minnie stifles a yawn and begins to rub my shoulders, sort of like I massage hers sometimes. “You know, I never liked Davis.”
“I know.”
“He just seemed . . . well, he was too busy all the time, you know?”
She’s right; his phone did seem to keep him occupied. He also was too prideful, evasive, and interrupted when I talked, but I fell for him despite those things. “I know you didn’t care that much for him. I thought it was because you might be jealous.”
She sighs and lets go of my shoulders. Then she leaves me alone with a darkness that hangs heavy over my bones.
I think of our kisses, our embraces, of the meals we shared, of the conversations. These all dance around my mind until I see Vanessa’s exquisite face. But that sight isn’t what makes my mouth taste the bile from my stomach. My jealousy about Davis and Vanessa isn’t even a blotch on my skin anymore compared to my anger toward Davis alone.
How could I have been so quick to fall for this handsome businessman who has no integrity? My parents would be appalled to know that I trusted someone so deceitful. I picture them shaking their heads and muttering, “We raised her to be smarter than this. Where did we go wrong?” Mom might even consider taking the bear chair out of the attic and giving me a timeout. Even Lona’s characters in her mysteries learn not to love men for the wrong reasons. Have I been so blind because of the Bailey House? I’ve idealized the house, and I’ve idealized Davis. I expected perfection from the beloved Baileys’ grandson.
Desiring sleep, I head inside and try to find a comfortable position on my bed. First, I try lying on my side, but the mattress feels lumpy, so I shift to my back.
Hatteras Girl (Heart of Carolina Book #3) Page 20