Lulu's Cafe: A Novel

by T. I. Lowe

  “You have a farmhouse, too?”

  Crowley’s smile widened. “Yes,” he said as he pulled her out the back door where his Gator sat.

  “Ooooh…Can I drive it?” Leah lit up and hopped into the driver’s seat.

  “Can you drive a stick shift?” Crowley asked. He climbed into the passenger seat, looking skeptical.

  “No but the ole wise one, Crow, shall teach me,” she smiled.

  He quickly went over the mechanics. “You think you’ve got it?”

  “Sure. Now which direction?” She pushed in the clutch and brake and cranked the manly machine.

  “To the plantation. You know the way.” Crowley fastened his seat belt and reached around Leah to fasten hers as well.

  “That is not a farmhouse, sir.”

  “Plantation is just a fancy word for farmhouse. Besides, it’s what my family has always called it.”

  Leah took off slowly, making the engine stall. She tried again and got it on the second try. She followed his directions and had no trouble dropping into the right gears.

  “Not bad, Lee.”

  “Being street smart requires picking up on things easily.” She met his gaze, which didn’t appear too happy with her comment. She wished she could take it back. If he only knew…

  The gate was already open when they arrived at the plantation. Leah looked at him questionably.

  “I came out earlier today. Head up and park by the front porch,” he instructed. After she parked, Crowley pulled her back towards the driveway.

  “I’d like to show you one of my favorite spots before we go inside, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure. We’re in no hurry, right?” she asked.

  He smiled. “No hurry at all.” They walked half way back down the drive, and Crowley walked over and sat underneath one of the giant oak trees.

  Leah followed him. She rested her back against the trunk and looked over at the perfect view of the house. It looked like a breathtaking painting, with the silver moss gently blowing from the tree branches, framing the mansion.

  Crowley stretched out on his side in front of Leah to take in the view of her. She was a view he had become quite fond of.

  “How does such a young man as you acquire such a place?” Leah asked and continued taking in the scenery.

  “It’s been in my family for many generations. My dad’s parents lived here when I was growing up. Grandpa Mason was a real estate tycoon. He gave my parents the townhouse as a wedding gift with the orders to fill the place with children. They tried for years with no success. They eventually gave up and just started spoiling all of the town’s kids rotten.”

  Crowley paused to sit up, and propped up one of his legs on a thick, exposed root. “I gave my parents an unexpected surprise on my momma’s forty-fifth birthday. She thought she was going through menopause, but she turned out to be pregnant instead.” He smiled at the memory of her sharing his story with him many times during his childhood.

  “After I turned sixteen, my grandparents decided to retire to Europe and signed all of their properties over to me at my parents’ request. I also got a fat trust fund to go along with that gift. That day was the first time I realized how wealthy my family actually was. We didn’t live the way the rich do. My parents taught me to stand as a strong man without having the materials of this world propping me up.”

  “I’m speechless,” Leah whispered.

  “Well, soon after the paperwork was complete, my momma and I started a full-scale renovation project with the plantation. Before we got too far, the old structure caught fire. So we ended up having to start from scratch—researching the original floor plans and recovering as many pieces of furniture as we could.”

  Crowley picked at a few twigs as he resolved to finish his family’s story. Without looking at Leah he continued. “The summer after my high school graduation, the house had been completely rebuilt. The only thing left was to paint and dress it up. Me and Momma’s summer project was to hustle at getting it complete before I headed off to college.” He shook his head. “She was so excited to do this with me. We had it all planned out. Then she went to the doctor with a persistent chest cold and two weeks after that she was diagnosed with lung cancer.”

  “That’s awful,” Leah whispered. She reached over to hold his hand as he regained his composure.

  “The worst part is she never smoked a cigarette in her entire life. I see people smoking away their health and I just want to scream at them. Why her and not them?”

  Leah watched as his normal casualness slipped away with his brutal honesty.

  “They fought it the best they could… surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation. It just didn’t respond well to treatment.” Crowley sat silent for a few moments before continuing. “My momma was a woman full of life. She could bring a room to life with her laughter. She loved laughing and joking around. She said you weren’t truly living if you weren’t laughing.”

  “So that’s where you get it. That grin of yours is magic,” Leah said.

  Crowley shrugged. “It was torture to watch the disease just suck the life out of her. My parents rented an apartment near Duke while she participated in some experimental treatments. I wanted to go with them, but they insisted I start college on schedule. I spent every weekend with them though.” He paused to clear his throat.

  “She didn’t quite make it a year, and my dad followed her by winter. The doctor said he died of a heart attack, but I know it was from a broken heart. They adored each other and were always saying they couldn’t live without the other. I guess they truly meant it.”

  Crowley steadied himself for a few minutes before he looked up. When he finally glanced at Leah, a jolt of tenderness washed over him. Leah sat staring at him with a steady stream of quiet tears washing over her cheeks. He reached over and wiped her face gently with his fingertips.

  “You’re an orphan too,” she whispered in the hushed breeze.

  Crowley slowly shook his head. “No. Never. I’ve been blessed with a lifetime of love, memories, and Lulu.” He scooted over to cradle her into his side and leaned back on the tree trunk. “You have her too.”

  Her tears eventually ceased as Leah drifted to sleep in the lull of Crowley’s comfort. She was roused awake an hour later with the scent of grass and honeysuckle, the scents that engulfed her repeated dream of her daughter. She opened her eyes and found Crowley studying her.

  “Sorry I fell asleep.” She rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t sleep well at all last night.” The dream played in a constant loop in her sleep for the past few nights. The closer she got to Crowley, the more her ordeal plagued her.

  “It’s okay. I haven’t slept the best in the last few nights either,” he said.

  “I smell honeysuckles,” she said as she looked around to find the source.

  “They just about line the whole property. I love the sweet smell of them. I guess my nose has the sweet addiction too.” Crowley watched her curiously. “You don’t like honeysuckles?”

  “I do. I actually smell them in my dreams quite often,” Leah said. She sat up and wiped the corners of her eyes. As she finger-combed her curls, Crowley leaned over to touch her hair. She enjoyed having his hands there more than she thought was possible.

  “Your hair is getting really long.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “You have one of the loveliest heads of hair, Miss Allen,” he said as he ran his hands through her hair. “I’m crazy about these curls.” He winked.

  “Enough with your flirting, sir. I want a tour of your farmhouse.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They stood and stretched before heading to the front porch. As they stood at the door while Crowley unlocked it, Leah surveyed the deep porch. “One of these days I’m going to sneak over here and sit on this porch all day.”

  “Why’s that?” Crowley asked as he scanned over the deep porch.

  “This porch just begs for company.”

  Crowley loo
ked over at a grouping of chairs around a small table. Memories of him playing checkers with his grandpa warmed him. By the time he was twelve, Crowley could beat him every now and then. He glanced back at the steps where Ana would set up her tea parties and insist on him hosting them with her along with a few baby dolls. He made her swear on the Bible to never tell a soul that he participated in such girly games, and she never did. His eyes wandered over to the left porch swing—he and his momma’s favorite. He loved the memories of them lazily swinging with his head in her lap and her running her fingers through his wild hair, and how she would whisper to him that he was a gift from God—her most precious treasure on this earth. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed as he pushed the heavy black door open and motioned for Leah to go ahead of him.

  The cool air of the house rushed to greet Leah as she stepped into the vast foyer. A grand chandelier dripped in elegance from the high ceiling by the cascading staircase. The beautiful wide planked floors, ordained in a rich walnut stain, appeared as though a foot had never been placed on them. Leah hesitated.

  “What?” Crowley asked. He shut the door behind them and placed his hand lightly on the small of Leah’s back to beckon her forward.

  “It’s just…” She tried to take it all in. “Wow.”

  The foyer opened to a comfortable sitting room with large, thickly-stuffed antique wingback chairs in rich burgundy, gold, and blue stripes. A wood-framed antique sofa in a deep blue and cream paisley–printed fabric joined the chairs, with an intricately patterned Persian rug peeking from the edges of the seating area.

  An oil painting sat on the mantel of the hefty brick fireplace. The scene was almost exactly the view Leah had taken in earlier of the plantation house framed with the curved oak trees.

  Leah looked over her shoulder at the country boy in his signature tattered baseball hat, T-shirt, well-worn cargo shorts, and flip-flops. His ocean-colored eyes were taking in her reaction. She glanced back around at her exquisite surroundings and shook her head slightly.

  “What?” Crowley asked again. He stepped around Leah and faced her, his eyebrow raised in a question.

  She was quite amused at how Crowley, who always exuded boundless confidence, was actually a bit unsure of himself at sharing his home with a girl.

  “I would have never guessed this.” She motioned around. “And you.”

  He scratched his stubbly chin as he gazed into the sitting area. He then motioned toward it. “My momma designed this part. All of the salvaged pieces were restored and placed in here.” Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s really not my style, but I left it this way in honor of her.”

  “I love how it’s so open,” Leah said.

  “We readjusted the floor plans by taking out several walls. We even had to add closets to all of the bedrooms.”

  “How many bedrooms?” she asked.

  “Six. One on the bottom floor was intended to be the office space and all the rest are on the second floor. The entire third floor is now the office space. We turned the basement into a large game room with a full-sized kitchen. There’s also a fully-equipped gym. I like to work out alone.”

  “Well that’s a relief,” Leah said.

  “What is?”

  “You have to work out,” she said, making him laugh.

  Crowley pulled one of his hands from his pocket and reached for Leah’s. “Come on,” he said as he led them upstairs.

  At the top, Crowley motioned towards the right. “There are four bedrooms and two full baths that way.” He pulled Leah down the hall to the left and stopped in front of a pair of heavy doors. “This is the master suite.” He pulled open the doors to reveal a breathtaking room. A massive four-poster rice bed dominated the tranquil space. It was dressed in lush sage green and cream–colored bedding. A charming wooden stepping stool placed beside the bed waited to assist someone into the tall bed. A grand fireplace warmed the space even without being lit.

  Crowley noticed Leah studying the oil painting hanging above the mantle. “This picture was painted by a local artist who stood on that very balcony to capture the river view.” He pointed over to a set of French doors.

  Leah eased over and peered out to the cozy balcony, which held a sweeping view of the river flowing behind the property.

  Crowley picked up a small remote from the nightstand. “Hey, watch this.” He aimed the remote towards the oil painting and pushed a button. The painting slid up and revealed a flat screen TV.

  Leah grinned. “Very cool, Crow.”

  She walked to the right of the bed and peeked into an alcove that housed a cozy sitting area and bookshelf. She turned back to Crowley. “This place is massive.”

  “We turned three bedrooms into one,” Crowley said as he placed the remote back on the nightstand. He made his way to an upholstered bench at the foot of the bed and sat down, propping up his elbows on the soft bed behind him.

  Leah pulled open another set of double doors and found the master bathroom. White marble floors with grey veining and an exquisite wrought iron chandelier caught her eye instantly. The walls were divided, with the bottom dressed in white detailed wainscoting and the top painted in a shade of soft sage green. An oversized claw-foot tub with a swooping back took up one whole wall.

  “How hard was it to find such a tub to accommodate the gentle giant?” Leah called out to Crowley in the other room.

  “Not an easy find. That’s for sure.”

  The bathroom also housed a gigantic walk-in shower with a seamless glass surround that was designed as to not obstruct the view of the space. Leah stepped inside it. “This shower is larger than some bedrooms I’ve had,” she yelled out. She turned to step out and found Crowley leaning on the door frame, watching her.

  “I’m a big man. I require a lot of space,” he said as he moved out of Leah’s way so she could exit the bathroom.

  The room had two more doors. Leah opened one to find an empty walk-in closet. She inspected the door knob.

  Crowley noticed her fascination. “What?”

  Leah shrugged. “No locks.”

  Crowley looked at her, a bit confused. “A lock on a closet door makes no sense, Lee.”

  “I totally agree,” she said, not meeting his eyes. She looked towards the other door.

  “That’s another closet. And no, it doesn’t have locks either,” he said. He reached for Leah’s hand and began leading her back towards the stairs. “Come on. I’m getting hungry.”

  Leah tugged Crowley’s arm, making him stop. “You have a beautiful home, Crowley,” she said sincerely.

  “House,” he said. “A family makes a home, and this one is lacking.” He gave her a weak smile and descended down the stairs without another word.

  Leah noticed the sad edge to his words. She wondered why such a wonderful man didn’t already have this house filled with children. He didn’t seem to enjoy the loneliness of his bachelorhood.

  Crowley led Leah towards the back of the house where an enormous kitchen and den took up almost the entire back space. The kitchen had a funky farmhouse vibe, and Leah could easily spot Crowley’s hand in designing it.

  Stainless steel appliances were softened by warm oak cabinetry, with the upper cabinets adorned with detailed crown molding. A wood planked ceiling and exposed wooden beams added more character to the lively space, along with black granite counter tops and a deep farmhouse apron sink.

  In the middle of the kitchen, a hefty island with a white distressed base and a walnut-stained butcher top was planted. In the middle of the island stood a three-foot-tall rooster figurine that looked as though it could have strutted right out of the painting at Lulu’s and perched itself in Crowley’s kitchen.

  “I’m digging this kitchen,” Leah said as she ran her hand along the smooth granite countertop. She inspected the contents of a set of antique white enamel canisters, finding each one empty. She turned back towards Crowley.

  Crowley reached up to cradle one of the pendant lights hang
ing over the island. “Me and my dad custom made these.” The light sconces were crafted from blue mason jars, which were held in place by curving wrought iron details around the lid.

  “Those are the neatest lights,” Leah said as she studied them.

  “We took our idea to a local metal artisan, and he helped us create them. I thought they were perfect for a farmhouse kitchen.”

  Leah smiled at his simpler term for the plantation. Her eyes moved over to a wall that housed a distressed, olive-green hutch with chicken wire inserts on the cabinet doors. Beside the heavy furniture piece, the wall was dressed with a row of vintage tin signs. One of the signs showed a chicken sitting on top of a nest, with creamy writing that stated Fresh Eggs for Sale. Another advertised Moon Pies with a yellow half-moon. Leah’s favorite was a black sign with burgundy scripted lettering that declared Life is Unreliable…Eat Dessert First.

  Leah laughed. “I know you handpicked that one,” she said as she pointed towards the vintage sign.

  Crowley eyed the sign in question with a smile. “Yep. That one definitely spoke to me.” He walked over to the oven and adjusted the temperature knob.

  “What are we eating?” Leah asked as she leaned on the counter near him.

  “Steak, baked taters, and salad,” he said as he popped two foil-wrapped potatoes into the oven.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “I made the salad earlier. So all you have to do is keep me company.” Crowley flashed a crooked smile at her.

  “Maybe I can handle that.” She smiled back.

  “We’ve got a little while on those taters. How ‘bout we check out some more of the house?”

  “I’d love to.” Leah walked over to Crowley and reached for his hand for the first time, her heart racing in uncertainty. Her extended hand was a much-needed step forward, and with him accepting it, Leah was surprised at how right it felt.

  They spent the next hour touring the back den, the large wash room, and a hidden passage way behind the staircase. The tour ended in the grand formal dining room. A wood table, with twelve upholstered chairs surrounding it, shined as it sat on top of another richly-toned Persian rug. The table was beautiful, but what Leah found intriguing was the large china cabinet.