by Tina Michele
“Ouch. Must be.” Haven picked at the dried mat of blue paint. “It feels good. I was gonna sit on my ass and watch TV and cry after I finished my last piece, but then I started talking to myself. I figured I should get out.”
“As long as it wasn’t a two-way conversation,” Diego said as he tossed down his SUP and rummaged for his gear in the bed of the truck.
Wendy leaned in close to Haven. “Are you doing okay, otherwise? Ya know, with…Florida?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she said, a lump forming in her throat.
“I can understand that. But have you heard from her at all?”
“No, and I doubt I ever will again. She made it very clear that whatever we had…whatever that was, it was a mistake.”
“It just doesn’t make sense, ya know?”
“Believe me, I know. She’s afraid of ruining my life or forcing me to take care of her. I have no idea, but it’s bullshit. And right now I don’t want to think about it, or her, or what happened in Florida. I just want to be on the water.” The river always had a way of carrying away the stress and pain of a day or a lifetime. If she had to, Haven would spend every day trying to do just that.
“Woo-hoo,” Diego hollered as he picked up his board and ran off toward the water.
“Uh, where are his pants?” Scrat asked, pointing at Diego, who was sans bathing suit.
“What the hell, Diego!” Haven slapped her hand over her eyes and screamed.
“You’re going to get arrested,” Scrat called after him.
“You’re going to get hypothermia,” Wendy added.
“You can probably get a smaller boat!” Haven said before they all broke out in hysterical laughter.
* * *
Kyle walked the adjuster to the door and returned to the table where Willa sat. Stacks of forms, papers, pictures, and files covered every inch of the surface. She spun the piece of paper around with her finger several times, stopping every few rotations to look at the dollar figure highlighted at the bottom. It was more than they had expected, but not enough to rebuild everything they’d lost, especially the hundred-year-old barn. Sure, they could replace it with a modern structure much like the steel pole barn, but so much more than a structure had been lost with the building. Not to mention the sheds, lean-to shelters, pens, and the coop, and then there was Willa’s house.
Kyle sat back down at the table beside Willa. “So, what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know anymore, Kyle. My brain is toast.” They’d been looking at numbers, values, and replacement costs for nearly four weeks. They had pages and pages of inventory, supplies, buildings, each one with a dollar amount next to it. The only amounts missing were ones that represented the value of the time and labor that went into making it what it was.
“If we take the replacement value we can rebuild everything and then some. We can sell the timber from the barn, or salvage what we can and raise something smaller.”
“If we take the cash, we can sell the whole lot,” Willa said.
“Right, and we can still sell the barn timber for a nice bit of cash.”
“We’d have to start over from scratch.” The thought of it pulled at her wounded heart.
“We’d have to do that here, too.”
He was right. No matter what they decided to do, they’d have to start from the bottom. Unless they got lucky and found a run-down start-up like they had there. “What about my place?”
“It’s not too bad. We’d have to repair the roof and the loft, but considering that a fifty-foot oak tree fell onto it, I’d say it could be a lot worse.”
“True.” She wouldn’t have believed it had she not seen it. The biggest of the limbs managed to miss the house altogether and acted as braces to keep the bulk of the tree from crushing everything beneath it. It had come out with some damage, but considering that it was built by hand, it withstood a great deal.
“Maybe it’s time we got out of here, Willa.”
“What are you talking about? We have to make a decision.” Willa waved the piece of paper at him.
“No. I meant Florida. We’ve lived here our entire lives. What if we made a change? People do it all the time.”
“I can’t even believe I’m hearing this from you. And where would we go? Huh?”
“I don’t know, how about North Carolina? They have decent farm land, it’s not terribly cold, and best of all, no hurricanes.”
He was out of his mind. She thought she was losing her grip on reality, but he had slipped right off the deep end. “You’re nuts, man.”
“Why? Come on. Think about it. We can expand the farm and start a u-pick. We can’t grow shit in this sandy soil here, and it’s so damn hot to boot.”
“What about the animals? Harold and Leland. The girls. My chickens? I’m not leaving my chickens, Kyle.”
“They’ll come with us. Hell, it’d probably be better for them, too.”
Willa rubbed her hands over her face. What was happening? “I…I don’t know. I need air,” Willa said, pushing herself away from the table.
Annie followed her outside and went off in search of her charges. Ever since the storm, the animals were all enclosed in the same pasture, and while they had several acres, they insisted on moving and migrating together. Annie had become their self-appointed babysitter and became restless if not allowed to check on them several times a day. It was an interesting sight to see. Willa knew Haven would’ve been amused by it.
The thought of selling the farm wasn’t inconceivable. It was in their best interest in terms of future growth and financial opportunity. But Willa couldn’t help but fear that if they left, Haven wouldn’t be able to find her. It was an idiotic notion, and she knew it. Why would Haven ever come looking for her after the way Willa had treated her? She’d done exactly what she had promised never to do again. Willa had begged for her forgiveness, and at her first test of faith, she failed.
She walked the property, surveying the mounds of debris they had spent weeks gathering into piles to be burned. The roof of the house was tarped and waiting for repairs, as was her house. Bare patches of dirt were all that remained where different outbuildings had stood. They determined that their damage was caused by a tornado and not the high winds of the hurricane itself. It was evident by the path of destruction it left across the property. It was no longer the farm it had been days or even hours before the storm came through.
Willa stopped by the makeshift coop they had made from what remained of the one she had just finished before the hurricane. It wasn’t as pretty, but it served its purpose for now. She let the flock out for a few minutes of free-range yard time while she sat in the grass and teased the ones who came close enough. “How would y’all like to move to North Carolina?” she asked. Thankfully, they didn’t answer.
After a while, Willa gave them fresh water and threw down some scratch to get them back inside for the night. She saw Kyle pacing in the side yard when she got back to the house. She hadn’t realized he was on the phone until he turned to face her. When he spotted her his eyes widened in surprise. “Hey, she’s back. I’ll call you later,” he said quickly and quietly before pushing the phone into his back pocket. “Hey.”
“Uh, hi. Who was that?” It was obvious he had either been talking about her or didn’t want to talk in front of her.
“Oh. Who? Jason. I was just telling him that we got our settlement amount.”
“Ah,” she said, although she knew he was lying. “So are you serious about selling this place?”
“Yeah, Will. I am.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay, we’ll do it. But we’re taking my house.”
* * *
The car pulled up in front of the gallery and Haven hesitated. Despite having everyone, including Bianca, ask if she wanted them to accompany her, Haven chose to go alone. After seeing how many people were already inside, she was regretting her decision. Before she could ask the driver to whisk her away from the crowd, W
endy approached the car and opened the door.
“Get out of the car,” she said.
“There are sooo many people here. What the hell?”
“That’s a good thing. Now, get out.”
As soon as she was out of the vehicle, she was swarmed by guests welcoming and congratulating her, most of whom she didn’t even recognize. Wendy did her best getting her inside and putting a drink in her hand, which Haven downed in a few large swallows. When Bianca approached from across the room, Haven relaxed. While things had been awkward between them over the last few weeks, Bianca was the consummate professional, always able to put business before anything else.
“We have several interested buyers, three potential commissions, and everyone’s hand to shake,” Bianca said.
“Commissions?” Haven asked as Wendy slipped another cocktail into her hand. “I don’t take commissions, Bianca. You know that.” She downed this beverage as quickly as the first.
“You will if they pay you, Haven. That’s part of the job,” she whispered as a finely dressed man approached them.
“Good evening, Ms. Thorne. Exceptional compositions. I enjoy the…”
Haven tuned him out, nodding at his pretentious accolades, but not listening. When he was finished, she thanked him and excused herself. Both Bianca and Wendy chased after her.
“What was that, Haven? Besides rude,” Bianca asked, her face red with anger.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to listen to all that bullshit all night from every Joe Blow who thinks he understands the meaning of my decision to use cobalt to represent the trials of woman or some shit.”
“These are art critics and collectors, Haven. Let them say whatever they want as long as they give good reviews and spend a lot of money.”
Another glass appeared in her hand. “Thank you,” she said before drinking it down.
“Slow down on those, please,” Bianca said.
“Oh look! My friends,” Haven said, leaving a frustrated Bianca standing alone.
Haven couldn’t believe how many of her friends had showed up for her. Campers, fellow volunteers, and even a few river guides she’d met through Scrat and MC.
“These are amazing,” Wingman said.
“I wish I could afford one. That’s for sure,” Corey said.
“Don’t do it. They’re overpriced.” Haven was not the one who put the dollar amounts on the pieces. She had even argued with Bianca about the outrageous numbers she was putting out there.
“But I like this one, a lot.” Corey said, pointing to Midnight Stardust.
“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, but it didn’t take me more than an hour to paint that,” Haven said.
“Has she seen it?”
“Who?” Haven knew who, but she was caught off guard by Corey’s question.
“Willa. It’s her and you, isn’t it? Has she seen it?”
“Um, no. It’s not. No, she hasn’t, and she probably never will.”
“Well, that sucks. She should. It’s quite amazing. Maybe someday she will.”
“You’re a strange little bird, Corey,” Wendy said, changing the subject. “So I hear you’re in the real estate game out in North Carolina.”
“Yeah. I’m a showing assistant for my parents’ agency.”
“Well, Haven here might be in the market for some adventure property out that way.”
“No way. That’s great! What are you looking for?”
“Oh, uh, nothing right now. Anything over a dollar is out of my price range at the moment. I’d have to sell all this stuff at these insane prices to even have a down payment,” Haven said.
“Yeah, I understand that. Well, keep me in mind, though. I bet I could find you some great places.”
“See, Haven. You just gotta know the right people,” Wendy said as Bianca walked up.
“Hey, all. I’m going to have to steal her away for a while. There’s a few big players that we need to make friends with,” Bianca said, hooking her arm with Haven’s and leading her away.
Haven swiped a glass from the passing tray. When Bianca gave her the look, she sipped at it instead of just tossing it back.
“I know you don’t want to be here. But please, Haven, this is my career,” Bianca said.
“Fine. Whose ass do you want me to kiss?”
They moved through the crowd talking and schmoozing with the diamonds and tuxedos that filled the room. Haven let them each tell her what they thought about her work and what they felt it meant. She nodded and smiled while she sipped on her drink. Looking around the room, Haven noticed that several of her new style pieces already had red dots, as did at least two of her others. She was stunned to see that people were not only buying her works but spending insane amounts of money on them.
When two women approached arm in arm, Bianca went into action. She was damn good at her job. “Good evening, ladies. Isn’t this a wonderful showing?”
“It most certainly is. It’s such a pleasure to meet such a talented artist.” She introduced herself and her wife before continuing with her compliments. “Stunning work. Especially your latest pieces. They’re very passionate.”
“Thank you very much,” Haven said.
“We’re interested in a number of pieces for our collection, but we wanted to inquire about commissions.”
“Haven, this is the couple I spoke about earlier.”
“Yes. But I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“We’ve never discussed them in detail, as Ms. Thorne has been working primarily on her own ideas.”
“And they are exquisite, and a steal at these figures.”
A steal? At least two of the paintings already marked sold had price tags of over $12,000 each. It was highway robbery in her mind. “Thank you. I’m so glad you like them,” Haven said. She opted for polite instead of what she had wanted to say.
“So how much for a commission, Ms. Thorne?”
“Oh, I don’t—”
“One moment please, ladies,” Bianca interrupted, pressing her hand on Haven’s back and stepping back out of earshot. “What are you doing?”
“I told you, I don’t want to take commissions. I don’t like the pressure.”
“Haven, do this and you can have the entire price. I won’t even take my agent fee. This is what every artist dreams of, and I can’t let you miss this opportunity.”
Haven knew Bianca was right. For a time, this had been her dream. But like all dreams, they end. She loved painting, and she always would. But it wasn’t what she wanted to do. She knew what she wanted, and she knew just how she was going to do it. Haven turned back to the women and smiled. “I’d love to take your commission.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It took six months after going on the market for the farm to sell. Willa had begun to get discouraged as time dragged on without an offer, and she found herself second-guessing their decision to move. One of the last potential buyers to come look at the property had stopped Willa in her tracks and sent her pulse racing. Yet the young woman with wild blond hair was not the one her heart hoped it had been.
Willa could find Haven in anyone and anywhere. There was always a trait or quirk that would remind her of something that Haven would do or say. She had thought to call her many times over the last six months. But as life complicated things and time continued to pass, Willa’s opportunities to reach out diminished. Any attempt to contact her now would only hurt one or both of them, and Willa didn’t want to hurt Haven ever again. If that meant disappearing from her life forever, she would do so.
Kyle pulled around the house in his truck, hauling a thirty-foot, bright red stock trailer. “I saw the hauler coming down the road for your house,” he said, jumping out of the vehicle.
Willa was probably paying more to move her place than it had cost in materials to build, but it was full of her blood, sweat, and tears. It was going wherever she did. They had already packed up all the roosters and chickens into their cages and stacked them in the bed of Willa’
s truck. That just left her house and their blended herd of misfits.
The household movers had come the day before to pack up their personal items. Willa thought she’d be uncomfortable having someone else pack and move her stuff, but she had been wrong. It left her plenty of time and energy to stress about how they were going to get her house onto a trailer without wrecking it. Although she had built and designed it for such an occasion, when she saw the trailer they arrived with, she had her doubts that it was going to work.
To her surprise, the whole process took no more than thirty minutes. Willa stood back and held her breath as she watched a hydraulic remote-controlled trailer back up to her house. It tilted and shifted until the rails and beams lined up. Willa watched as her house began to tip backward until she thought it would be almost perpendicular to the ground.
To her relief, it never got that far before the motors whirred and it began to lower back down. Two men tightened the straps that held the house to the rails. Once it was level to the ground it was securely atop the bed of the trailer. It took a few more minutes as the hauler adjusted and locked into position for the transport. “That’s that,” Willa said, breathing a sigh of relief. It was really happening. All that was left was to load the animals, and they would be on their way. Willa and Kyle walked along behind her house as they hauled it off the property and out onto the road. It was a surreal vision to see her home driving off on a flatbed.
“Let’s get these buggers loaded and we will be on our way. Ready?”
Willa took a last look around at the property. Grass had already covered in most of the spaces where buildings and oak trees had once stood. There was a feeling of closure that washed over her, and she was content with the decision she was making. “As I’ll ever be.” She had fear, but she also had hope that everything would work out the way it was meant to.
Kyle patted her on the back and set off for the gate where the entire herd waited as if they knew they too were starting a new adventure. “They’re not gonna be so excited when they realize they’re going on that trailer.”