Closing her eyes, she thought back to the drama in the caboose: Bale’s sweet kiss and Keefe’s annoying interference. She struggled to concentrate on the kiss, but Keefe kept popping into her mind. She wondered if there was such a thing. It was pretty clear Keefe was just as inclined to have Evie by his side. She swallowed hard as it occurred to her that he might be more inclined to have Evie by his side. She needed to do some Internet research about putting feelings for an old flame to rest.
Unfortunately, she was finding Wi-Fi reception less than consistent up here on Flat Top Hill. She was on her own.
Summer shimmied down the loft with Shortie draped over one arm. She put him on the floor, stepping seamlessly around him while he devoured his breakfast in the middle of the narrow walkway that separated the kitchen from the walk-in closet. Summer had mastered the choreography required in living tiny. Two steps to the Keurig, pivot. Three steps to the K-Cups, pivot back. A lunge to the refrigerator for the cream. And a stretch to the coffee cup.
She sipped her coffee and looked down at the Victorian at the bottom of the hill. The house’s outline was just shimmering in the predawn mist. Summer could see the lights in Queenie’s kitchen. Her formidable grandmother looked tiny from this distance, and vulnerable. Summer knew she needed to stop avoiding the situation and confront Queenie about why her grandmother had summoned her. Of course the words confront and Queenie had never been used in the same sentence by anyone in her family, as far as she knew. Searching her brain for a way out, Summer wondered if she should call her parents and let her father handle it. But Queenie clearly wanted Summer up here, or she wouldn’t have made the call. Perched on her elbow, wondering how her life had become so insanely complicated, she noticed another figure enter the kitchen.
It was Lynnie.
Summer shot up in bed, hitting her head on the ceiling.
Holy shit!
She had forgotten all about Lynnie! In all the uproar of the night before, she’d never said anything about going to Seattle with the tiny house.
Summer couldn’t go to Seattle and leave Lynnie in Cat’s Paw. That would be completely unfair to both Lynnie and Queenie. As she rubbed the bump on her head, it occurred to her that if anybody could find out what was going on with Queenie, it would be Lynnie. Was that cowardly?
Yes, but effective.
Summer was relieved to see the orange felted purse her grandmother had made. Shortie’s rescue had left her without a bag. She piled her phone, money, cables, earbuds, and lipstick into the new bag, which swallowed the items like a greedy frog. She picked it up and examined it. The bag didn’t sag an inch. It occurred to her that the cosmos might have sent her here to save Queenie, but Queenie might just save Summer’s dream in the process.
She cleared out the caboose in less than an hour. She’d originally thought she’d repack all her belongings in the truck and cart it to Seattle. But with thoughts of seeing Bale again, she wanted everything to be perfect. It was the tiny-house-living equivalent of shaving her legs. Instead, she piled everything into the back of Big Red. She opened the passenger door and helped Shortie up.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Summer said. “I’m only letting you sit up front because we’re not leaving the property.”
She ignored the fact that he fell down an abandoned well on the same property. Everything in her life was topsy-turvy and she just needed to go with her instincts and not overthink things. She drove down the hill to a storage shed on the property, and unceremoniously tossed everything inside. She decided to take a shower before heading over to Queenie’s to explain she needed to go to Seattle. The thought of this impending conversation made her break out into a cold sweat.
Maybe she should shower afterward.
She and Shortie made their way into Queenie’s kitchen. The heady aroma of coffee, bacon, and eggs filled the room. Queenie took a quick look at Summer carrying the orange purse, then nodded at her to take a seat at the table. Lynnie was already there, eyes closed in ecstasy over Queenie’s hot coffee.
“That was quite a night you had,” Lynnie said. “Your grandmother filled me in this morning. Who said life was boring in Cat’s Paw?”
I don’t know. Who?
Shortie seemed to hold no grudge against Andre for deserting him at the well. The two dogs tore through the house like long lost friends.
“We could learn something from dogs,” Lynnie said. “Just go with the flow.”
Queenie and Summer looked at each other. This was clearly something each felt the other had not learned.
Queenie was always in her element when she was serving food. Everything was simple and elegant. Summer gulped down a final cup of coffee and steeled herself for the conversation ahead.
“Do you have plans for today?” Queenie asked suddenly.
Time for the big-girl panties.
“Ummm, yes,” Summer said.
This wasn’t the brave start she’d envisioned.
“I thought so,” Queenie said. “Since you didn’t go to the bakery this morning.”
“Keefe said Evie would be happy to cover for me,” Summer said.
Summer couldn’t believe she was hiding behind Evie of all people!
“So I guess these plans have something to do with that darling Bale,” Lynnie said in a teasing tone.
“Actually, yes.” Summer said.
“Good for you! I looked for the bus this morning. You know the old saying, “If the bus is a’rockin’, don’t come a’knockin’.” But the bus was already gone. I thought you let him escape.”
Summer was shocked. Tasteless, opposite-sex jokes in front of Queenie were just not told.
“I’m taking the caboose to Seattle,” Summer said. “Bale wants to feature it in the Tiny House Show.”
“But you’ll be back, won’t you?” Queenie said.
There was a note of fright in her voice that startled her. Summer wanted to reach out and pat Queenie’s hand but feared she’d lose a limb with such impertinence.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Summer said. “I’m just dropping off the caboose at the show and might do some sweater shopping.”
“Oh, honey,” Lynnie said holding up Summer’s orange bag. “This is stunning! You’ve made so much progress.”
“Actually, Queenie made this,” Summer admitted.
The pride she had in Queenie’s work outweighed the slight sting of the unintended insult to her own expertise.
“Now don’t you worry,” Lynnie said to Summer. “You have other skills.”
Summer heard Queenie make a little noise that sounded like a suppressed giggle. Not that Summer had ever actually heard Queenie giggle.
“Maybe you should be taking Queenie with you to Seattle then,” Lynnie said. ”She obviously knows more about this sweater felting thing than you do.”
Everything that annoyed Summer about Lynnie came flooding back.
“That’s alright,” Queenie said as she poured more coffee. “We already made plans for today.”
“Who’s we?” Summer asked
“I thought Lynnie and I could go take a drive to Vancouver,” Queenie said.
“That sounds nice,” Summer said, rejoicing that Vancouver was the opposite direction of Seattle.
Hospitality to strangers was not known to be one of Queenie’s strong suits. Summer wondered where the Queenie of old had gone.
“Thank you,” Summer said warmly.
“Well, I thought you’d be at the bakery this morning,” Queenie said, in her most passive-aggressive injured tone.
Oh, there’s the old Queenie. She hadn’t gone far at all.
“I better be going,” Summer said, deciding to bail before the conversation turned against her. “You guys have fun today. I’ll see you…”
She was going to say, “I’ll see you tonight,” but she paused. Depending on ho
w things evolved in Seattle, she had no idea if she’d be coming back to Flat Top Farm this evening or not.
Keefe will be perfectly happy to ask Evie again, I’m sure.
Summer called into the house, “Come on Shortie.”
In ten minutes, Summer, with Shortie relegated to his car seat, was heading down the highway to whatever adventure lay ahead.
Chapter 26
It was nearly eleven when Summer pulled the caboose down Flat Top. Last night’s rain made the journey down the hill a little tricky, but she was proud of herself for tackling the challenge on her own. She felt she was still earning her stripes as a tiny house owner, but every test gave her more confidence.
Summer told herself that she was annoyed there was no way to get out of the area without driving through Cat’s Paw. But if she were being honest, she secretly wanted Keefe to see her heading out to Seattle. As luck would have it, he was on the sidewalk in front of the bakery wiping down the outdoor tables as she drove by. It had taken Summer awhile to get used to the attention every time she went somewhere with the caboose, but now she almost took it as the caboose’s due. She felt as if she were her own parade as she waved to everyone on Main Street. She put on her most casual smile as she sailed past Keefe. She caught his eye. He looked troubled.
Isn’t that what you wanted? For him to be jealous that you were going to see Bale?
She almost put on the brakes, but Evie was suddenly at his side, resting her hand on his shoulder while engaging him in conversation. Neither looked up as Summer waved. She drove out of town.
Summer looked in the backseat at Shortie.
“He’s coming to the Tiny House Convention with his good pal, Evie,” she said defensively. “He’ll be fine.”
As she drove out of town, a man with bright red hair gave a small nod. She did a double take. It was Shy Sherman, heading into the Cat’s Paw Chronicle office. She made a mental note to check on the paper when she got back; maybe she made the front page with her caboose!
The trip to Seattle went smoothly. Summer was perfectly comfortable driving Big Red and towing the caboose. Other drivers saluted her and some of their passengers took pictures. Summer felt strongly that the tiny house movement was going to explode, but it was fun being at the foreground of the revolution.
Especially when there was a good-looking man like Bale helping to lead the charge.
It was easy getting back into the swing of constant Internet connection. The satellites led her directly to the road show. Summer pulled up to the vast hotel parking lot where the event was being held. She sat in Big Red, staring at the entrance, disappointed because she had somehow pictured the event as being more elegant. Summer had been to several conventions in her day, from baking industry trade shows with Queenie to boat shows with Grandpa Zach, and car shows with her parents.
A uniformed guard rapped at her window.
“May I help you?” he asked.
“I’m here for the Tiny Road Show,” Summer said.
“I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said, glancing back at the caboose.
“I’m supposed to deliver this house to Bale Barrett.”
The man looked down at his iPad, swiping past a few screens at dizzying speed.
“I don’t have a Bale Barrett,” he said.
“That’s impossible.”
“People living like hobbits,” the guard replied. “That’s impossible.”
“But it’s happening, isn’t it?” Summer said. “So maybe it’s possible there’s a Bale Barrett, too. Could you just take another look, please?”
The man looked down at his screen as Summer peeked over his shoulder. Even reading upside down she could see Bale’s Tiny Dreams.
“Right there,” she stabbed at the screen.
“That says Bale’s Tiny Dreams, Miss. You said to look for Bale Barrett.”
“How many Bales do you think are here?”
“It’s not my job to guess how many people named Bale are at the convention, Miss. It’s my job to keep out unauthorized personnel. Of which, you, apparently, are one.”
“It’s okay, Chester.” Bale’s voice seemed to come from nowhere. “She’s with me.”
“Okay, Mr. Barrett,” Chester said. “Just doing…”
“Your job,” Bale said affably as he jumped in the passenger seat. “I appreciate it.”
“He knows you?” Summer asked, outraged. “He was giving me the third degree.”
“You have to learn to go with the flow when you’re in the land of tiny,” Bale said, directing her to go through the gate Chester was opening. “It’s a whole new world.”
“That’s true,” Summer said, looking around at the array of tiny houses being assembled on site. “Thanks for coming to the gate.”
“I’m happy you’re here! I’ve kept my eye on that gate all day.”
She was pleased to know Bale was keeping his eye out for her.
“Got a space for you right on the edge over there,” Bale said, pointing to an open spot by the exit sign. “Quick escape route.”
“Do I need an escape route?”
Bale looked at her with a lopsided grin. He shrugged but didn’t say anything. Instead he turned to the backseat and ruffled Shortie’s head. A few weeks ago, Summer could not have imagined she would be threading her way through a parking lot studded with tiny Victorians, gypsy wagons, steel and glass miniatures. But she pulled up to Bale’s shiny olive-colored bus without a problem.
“You go, girl,” Bale said as she cut the engine, the caboose perfectly in place.
She was disappointed to receive only a high five for her efforts.
Bale jumped out and uncoupled the caboose from Big Red. He directed Summer to park her truck outside the gated area and come back on foot.
“The trucks are a distraction,” he said.
“Do I have to go through Chester again?” she asked.
“No. Just park around the side of the hotel. You’re one of us now.”
Summer warmed to the thought of being one of anything that included Bale.
“Sorry, dude,” Summer said, as she put Shortie on his leash.
It had been a while since Shortie had to be tamed.
Summer could not believe her luck, being behind the scenes at a tiny house show. She’d done all her research online. Seeing so many of them in person was like seeing Main Street Sleeping Beauty’s Castle at Disneyland for the first time. By the time you got there, you knew it by heart, but somehow, it was even more magical than you’d dreamed.
“Is that my blacktop boondocker?” called a voice from the crowd.
Summer didn’t need to see the face; she knew exactly who it was. She spun around to see her Wal-Mart guardian angels, Alf and Margie, beaming at her.
“What are you guys doing here?” Summer asked as she was enveloped in hugs.
“Margie’s been dragging me to these tiny house shows since we met you,” Alf said. “Can’t say I’m ready to take the plunge, but…”
“But we’re having a ball looking around,” Margie added, giving Shortie a kiss. “There are so many styles. I mean, I keep telling Alf, you’ve seen one RV, you’ve seen ’em all.”
“Which is not true,” Alf said defensively.
Summer laughed. She had been so new to everything when she met Alf and Margie, she’d let then escape without getting any contact information. Back at Wal-Mart, she’d been afraid she’d never learn the ways of living outside the box, but she had. Now, she was the one in the position to be the voice of experience. They exchanged phone numbers, Instagram handles, and Facebook information.
“If you have any questions about tiny living,” Summer said, “I’m practically an expert. “
A tiny Swiss Chalet caught Margie’s eye. Summer waved as she watched Margie pull Alf inside.
As Summer surveye
d the parking lot, she had to admit, the caboose was the showstopper. Even the tiny veterans were gathered around Bale as he went into salesman mode. Summer looked down at Shortie and nodded toward Bale.
“He’s frickin’ adorable. Isn’t he?”
At that moment, Bale looked up and winked, apparently thinking the same about her. When there was a break in the crowd, Bale escorted her and Shortie into her own house. It was an odd sensation. Empty again of all her belongings, it felt more like Bale’s showpiece than her home. But the concept of home was turned on its ear at the moment anyway. She had no idea where she was headed, emotionally or physically.
“I hope you can hang around for a couple days,” Bale said. “I think people would be very interested to talk to an actual human being who lives in one of these things, instead of just a salesperson. Of course, that’s not the only reason I want you to stay, but it’s a hell of an excuse.”
He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then caressed her cheek. Was she where she belonged? Could she turn her back on Flat Top Farm and all its unfinished business?
“I’m not sure I…” Summer started, when a potential customer knocked on the door and stepped through without waiting for an invitation. The woman carried an enormous messenger bag, which didn’t strike Summer as the wisest choice for touring tiny houses. Some of the hallways in these home would require her to turn sideways to get from one end of the place to the other. Summer had to remind herself that this was a public forum.
“Hi there, I’m Mindy,” the woman said. “This little train car is the cutest thing ever.”
“Thank you,” Bale and Summer said in unison.
Tiny House on the Hill Page 19