by Teri Blake
She hadn’t thought about that, but he was right. When it came to her sisters or her children, she would do about anything to make sure they not only didn’t have to work if it weren’t needed, but that they didn’t know about any struggles. Maybe it was time to accept some help.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear.” Sonica came in and sat on the couch next to the computer desk.
Even in a house with five bedrooms and plenty of space, there still was nowhere to have a conversation that couldn’t be overheard.
“Sorry,” Karla said. “I had tried to keep the mess to myself.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem. I don’t know about Channyon, but I know that Aryn and I have talked about wanting a real stake in the Tidewater. We’ve never owned anything in our lives and this seems like something we could all get behind…because we already are. Aryn especially needs something she can hang onto.”
How would that work? She already owned the house. “What do you mean by buying a stake in it?” She turned her computer chair to face Sonica.
“We would help invest money in the things needed to supply the house. When there are renovations needed or anything—with the exception of the addition, since that’s paid for—we would help just as much as you. But we would also be part owners.”
Let some of the stress go? Could she do that? The Tidewater had been like a baby once she’d planned it. She’d nurtured the idea and made the plan. Her sisters had arrived to help, and she was so thankful they were there, but they weren’t part of her original plan. Could she adjust?
“Are you sure? That would mean you’d have to stay, wouldn’t it?”
“I am, and so is Aryn. We’ve already talked about working while the construction is going on so we can help pay the bills while there’s no income. You’ll have to be helping Sawyer manage the construction, so you can’t work.” Sonica chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Aryn has already promised Tim that she’d help him. Not sure if that’s for pay though.”
Karla laughed, remembering the day they’d met. Tim had been hired by Sawyer to come cut the grass and Aryn had followed him around most of the day. “Well, I can’t stop her from adoring everything green.”
They both chuckled and Karla turned to the computer and shut it off.
“In all seriousness, we’ve talked about this and it’s not something you should worry about. You’ve got bigger things going on. Like, what in the world Channyon is going to do. What will we all do when Becker comes back? What if Rob decides to rear his ugly head again… Yeah, see, you’ve got enough to worry about.”
Rob. She held her breath even at the sound of his name. She hadn’t told her sisters about the money either. Even though they’d always lived with the ‘what’s mine is yours’ financial philosophy, she knew they would’ve had lots of questions. Ones she didn’t want to answer. As long as the checking account was only in her name, then she could send money.
Sawyer came back through the patio door followed by Davin. Both waved as they went by. Karla wanted to wish them a good time, but Davin already looked defeated before he’d even started. Hopefully Sawyer knew what he was getting into.
Channyon rushed down the stairs and headed for the front door dressed in her pizza uniform.
“Channyon?” Karla called. She’d quit that job two months ago. Why would she wear her old uniform and rush out of the house like she was trying to hide?
Channyon skidded to a halt and glanced over her shoulder. “Sorry, I’m in a hurry. A little late for work.”
“But—”
“I took back my old job. Figured we’d need it with no bookings. See you later.” And Channyon dashed out the door.
Even though Karla had kept her struggle a secret, they’d all figured it out. She should’ve known. Channyon was dealing with some of the worst pain of her life so far and they all knew it, even though she didn’t talk about it. The stress right then wasn’t near what it had been just a few months before when Rob was trying to steal their inn and turn the kids against her, but her sisters could still see it.
She reached under the desk where she’d left the rolled plans for the inn. Sawyer had brought them the night before, but he hadn’t made a big deal of them to anyone but her. He’d rolled them out on the table and showed her how each room would have its own bathroom and how they would add bathrooms to the rooms already there.
He showed her the new laundry room that was needed to have a working hotel and how the old kitchen would be torn out to make a larger dining room. The new kitchen was huge. And she’d have to cook, but at least she’d have an industrial dishwasher.
That meant coming up with menus, buying food, making sure there was as little waste as possible, budgeting… She reached over to the cup of pens on her desk and shifted it until the mug handle was just so.
She couldn’t help it. Her surroundings could be manipulated to alleviate some of her stress. She just had to be careful that she wasn’t doing it with the people in her life anymore. Somehow, Rob had managed to be the leader of the household most of the time, but when she’d felt him pull away, even a little, she’d taken over.
What she could control didn’t scare her.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, people could only be controlled for so long and then they got tired of it and left. Like Rob. Instead of telling her what she was doing wrong and working on it, he’d moved in with a woman who supposedly looked just like her only younger, according to Sawyer.
At least it wasn’t her looks that were lacking. She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on the plans. This would be her life for the next few months, barring anything going wrong. Except it was construction so things were going to go wrong. Even she knew that.
Sawyer came back inside following a smiling Davin. “Thanks.” Her son waved slightly as he headed back up the stairs.
“That didn’t take long.” She hoped she didn’t sound as skeptical as she felt.
“He’s just going through some things and needed a place to vent where there was no chance of hurting anyone. He’s a good kid.”
Despite giving him every reason not to, Sawyer had always liked her children and tried to get along with them and even include them when he invited her out to do things.
“I’ve been looking at the plans for the Tidewater. I’m concerned about bookings. When is it safe to open up the website again?” She’d get her last payment for at least two months in just a few days.
Sawyer scrubbed his hand across his mouth and took in a breath. “Well, you never know when materials or men will be held up. Figure at least a ten percent increase in the number of days. If it gets done early, you can always open your site and take last minute reservations.”
“Except we’ll be heading into the winter season. Rents are down by half going into the new year.”
His eyebrow rose. “Except this will be done sometime between Halloween and mid-November. Plenty of time to still book lots of people during the holidays.”
Why did planning ahead always make her feel like she was looking for the negative? “I’m just trying to make sure there are no surprises.”
He smiled at her with one of those melty smiles, dimple and all. “You’ll never catch them all. But at least if you’re prepared you won’t have more than you can handle.”
Her heart did funny, racy things when he looked at her like that and she could see a future with a happy ending with him. If she ever managed to live through her divorce from Rob. If he could weather that storm with her, see her at her absolute worst, and still want to come around, they could explore a future.
Until next spring, when the one year plus one day waiting period would elapse, those thoughts had even less substance than the building plans under her hands. “There’s one thing on these prints that I don’t understand. What are these?” She pointed to some boxes between the walls.
“Well, for one, you want a sound barrier between rooms. The more comfortable people are, the more loyal they will be and I’m su
re you know that with the lighthouses and other attractions, families naturally come back here year after year.”
“Yes, but…” That didn’t explain the boxes. She could understand thick walls, but this looked like tiny laundry chutes between the rooms.
“Those spaces are for central air units and for water lines, electrical and co-ax cable. You want enough space that if there’s a problem, they don’t have to tear into your wall to get to it.”
“So space means less stress.” She laughed.
“Exactly. Which is why I’m taking you to dinner. You need some space away from the stress.”
Even Sawyer got her. Rob never had. He never understood that she would tamp down all her hurt and tension until it came out by controlling everything around her. “Thanks. You’re absolutely right.”
“I know. And I’ll remember you said that.”
Chapter Five
The front door felt so heavy as Channyon pushed it open and dropped her huge keyring in the bowl meant to catch all incoming debris. After two months of working with Karla doing things other than standing on a concrete floor, her feet ached and she was ready to eat something—preferably a tub of ice cream—and kick up her feet.
She turned to head to the kitchen when a very familiar laugh stopped her where she stood. Becker was back. She tiptoed in the kitchen and found a slender, white flowerpot with a graceful orange sherbet colored orchid.
Channyon had always considered orchids superior because of how difficult they were to grow and because their fragrance wasn’t overbearing. A note lay propped against the base of the pot with her name on it. The back of the card was blank but she knew who’d brought it—the only one in the house who could afford an orchid like that.
Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. Food now would send her into fits. Whole revolutions had been staved off by people who didn’t want to deal with injustice. Her situation was no different. She may have been the catalyst, but she didn’t have to be the gasoline, too. If she went in that room, she would have to deal with Becker and how they’d treated each other. They were getting on with their lives just fine without actually talking...
But were they really? He was there. He’d followed her. Eventually, if she’d come to the same conclusion on her own that she’d realized with her sisters at the beach, she’d have been unhappy too. They had to talk. Sometime.
“Channyon?” Becker’s soft baritone crept across the room and held her like a hug after a long absence.
How she loved him. He couldn’t have hurt her half as much if she didn’t. “Becker,” she answered. Still not sure how to broach the past.
“I hope I got the right one?” He didn’t move from where he stood by the door.
“You did. As usual, your ability to buy gifts is spot-on.” She touched a delicate petal.
“Karla tells me you’ve started working at the pizza place again.”
The small talk felt so out of place. They hadn’t talked, really talked, in almost a year. Yet, here he was, acting like her work schedule was important.
“Yeah, I want to be able to help while we don’t have anyone renting the Tidewater.” A small part of her rebelled and reminded her that she might be working there because she’d be leaving her sisters and following this man back home. Just as quickly she shoved that from her mind. A year stood between them and a lot of trouble.
Shock hit her like a wave. Where did he live now? Where would home be? “You sold the house.” She knew as much because he’d given her the money from the sale, which she’d then given to Karla for the Tidewater expansion. “Where are you living?”
He chuckled. “Nowhere currently. I rented a furnished apartment while I was at home finishing up my business. I ended that lease right before I came and put everything of mine in storage. Nothing is currently tying me there except a log of clients who may need me in the future and name recognition.”
That wasn’t something to just toss in the trash, either. He’d worked hard to make his name one of the best back home. “And how long do you plan to stay?” She couldn’t turn and look at him. If she did, she might see his eyes and be swayed by them.
“As long as it takes to understand what happened. At the very least I’ll be here until the construction is finished, so I can see my plans in real life.”
“I’ll give you twenty minutes.” The words slipped from her before she could stop herself. The hunger was speaking for her.
“Why don’t you sit for a minute and I’ll make you some chicken soup?” Becker’s hands appeared on her shoulders in a reassuring squeeze, then he turned her around and sat her at the center island.
“Karla doesn’t believe in canned soup. It’s not as easy as whipping out a pan and heating it.” She couldn’t control the grump who’d taken over.
Becker went to the fridge like he lived there and pulled out a frozen chicken breast from a resealable bag. Karla had ranted just the day before how companies could put organic chicken in a resealable plastic bag. Channyon didn’t care as long as it was easy.
He popped it in the microwave to thaw. “Shouldn’t take long.” He searched the cupboards and drawers for everything else he needed.
Just having Becker there again filled her with a strange mix of contentment and apprehension. She both loved being with him again and feared every word he said.
“I forwarded the plans for the Tidewater to Sawyer a few days ago. So I assume you’ve seen them?” He finished cutting the onion and carrots while he waited for the chicken.
“I didn’t really look at them. I know Aryn and Sonica have considered becoming full partners in the business, but I’m just here for the grunt work and to support my sisters.” Especially since they now thought she might take off any minute.
“So, you’re not interested in tying yourself to North Carolina?” He didn’t look at her as he pulled the chicken from the microwave, still mostly frozen, and cut it into pieces.
“I’m interested in helping my sisters. It doesn’t matter to me where they live.” Except it did matter some. She missed the home she’d made with Becker and as much as all the beaches were nice, the Outer Banks was too full of people.
“Don’t you think your sisters are old enough to manage without you?” His body moved slightly as he sautéed the chicken and vegetables.
With the exception of Sonica, they were all in their thirties. Probably well into the age when they didn’t need help, but it wasn’t always about need. “You weren’t here long enough to see the situation with Karla just two months ago. She absolutely needed us here.”
“And you, specifically?” he answered quickly.
She wasn’t sure if he was simply being a lawyer looking for a loophole, or if he was truly trying to understand the situation. “Is there a specific reason you’re asking?”
He set the spoon down and turned to face her. The sizzle from the pan was the only sound in the room for a full thirty seconds. “Channyon, I’m trying to understand what was so important that you had to not just leave me—because that was difficult enough—but you had to leave the state. Without telling me.”
All thought of hunger slipped away. Channyon pushed out of her chair and cradled her elbows as she fought for the right words. “I needed my space. You pushed harder than you should’ve. You…” She wanted to blast him. To accuse him of every last thing that had gripped her for months.
But the words wouldn’t come. He was a lawyer and slapping him with accusations was the quickest way to lose any argument. He’d only think faster on his feet than she could and she’d end up feeling like she shouldn’t have ever felt that way. It didn’t matter that he would apologize later for making her feel bad. By then it would be too late.
“I know I pushed you. I said and did some things when I was so driven that I regret.”
“Like?” She needed to hear it, to hear him say that he’d gone too far in asking her sister to be a surrogate.
He turned back to the stove. “Lots of things. I have
regrets I’m working through. Especially now that all that I worked for has evaporated right before my eyes. Worthless to even bother.”
Was he talking about work, or them? She wasn’t sure. “Well, it must not be worthless or you wouldn’t be here.”
He added the chicken stock to deglaze the pan and Channyon couldn’t believe how well he seemed to know what he was doing. “When did you learn to cook?” She or Sonica had always cooked for him because he’d lived on frozen dinners before they’d married.
“When I thought I might someday be a father, I took a class thinking it would be good for me to know how to cook a few healthy meals for you while you were with the baby.”
But what about her sisters? They had lived in the same house. Wouldn’t he have assumed they would do it? “I’m sure Sonica or Aryn would’ve come to the rescue, if I’d ever been able to have children.” Especially since Sonica actually enjoyed cooking.
“If you’d been able to get pregnant, I’d planned to ask you if we could move and live nearby or maybe even buy a place in the country with a mother-in-law house for your sisters. I know you want them near…but I always wanted you. I knew your sisters were a package deal, but I thought…” He shrugged and poured the soup into a large bowl, then rinsed the pan.
“You thought a lot of things. You had a lot planned and didn’t bring it to me.” She’d never known he’d wanted to be away from her sisters, but then again, what married man didn’t want to be alone with his wife?
“I did. There were so many things that I hoped for. So many things that consumed my thoughts. I still dream about holding a child.” He held out his empty hands.
His sadness mirrored her own. The feeling of emptiness when her own arms longed to hold a child was more than she could share with anyone else. Or so she’d thought. Men weren’t supposed to feel the weight of a biological clock, but obviously he did.
“I’m not young anymore, Channyon. I look around and I see all I’ve made and all I’ve done and what does it matter? If I die tomorrow, I’ll have a full bank account and no one to leave it to. If I don’t do something, what mark will I leave on the world?”