Chapter Fifteen
“It’s definitely unconventional, but I don’t see why it can’t be done.” Phillip Princeton nodded as he made a notation on the piece of paper in front of him. “Would you like me to draw up a sample contract so you’d have an idea of what we’d be talking about? Nothing official, mind you—I’d still have to finalize some wording, but it would prepare you a bit for the real thing.”
“Yes, I think we should do that,” Phoebe said. “Although . . .”
Phillip raised an eyebrow when she didn’t continue. “What’s the matter?”
Phoebe let out a puff of air. “I’m not sure we’re still moving forward on this. I texted him Saturday night and he hasn’t responded. I might have offended him in some way.”
“If this fellow is the sort who gets offended easily and would call off a business transaction because of it, are you sure you want to enter into an agreement with him? That seems like a pretty serious red flag.”
“It’s not like that,” she tried to explain, but at the same time, she wondered if it was exactly like that. She didn’t know Bryce well enough to say, and that was a red flag too.
“I suggest that you talk to him before we even worry about a sample contract. No point in wasting our time on it if he’s backing out.”
Phoebe understood exactly what he was trying to say—she shouldn’t waste her lawyer fees unless she was sure. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve spoken to him,” she replied.
“That sounds like a good choice.” Phillip rose, shook her hand, and showed her out of the office, probably wondering what she was getting into. Phoebe couldn’t help but wonder that herself.
As she stepped out of the building, her phone chimed twice, and she pulled it from her pocket. The first text was from Bryce, asking if he could call her later. Good—at least he was talking to her now, but what did he want to say? Was he ready to call the whole thing off? The second text was from Ashley. Vi had taken a spill the night before and they were going to operate on her hip. Could Phoebe come right away?
The lawyer’s office must have blocked her cell phone reception because Ashley had sent that text twenty minutes ago. Phoebe sent Bryce a reply of “Yes, but not now,” told Ashley she was on her way, and dashed for her car, hoping she’d get to the hospital before they wheeled Vi off.
This week . . . honestly. It was kicking her trash.
She reached Vi’s hospital room just as the orderly came to take her to the operating room. “Please give me just one second,” she said to him, and he gave a quick nod.
“Hey, you,” she said, coming to Vi’s side. “What’s this about your hip?”
“I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and lost my balance,” she said with a chuckle. “That’s what I get for thinking I don’t need help.”
“She’s supposed to call someone every time,” Ashley explained. “Either me or Tasha. That’s actually why I hung up on you Saturday night.”
“I see.” Phoebe turned back to Vi. “You got a little too independent for your own good, huh?”
“I did, but they said they can patch me back together.”
Phoebe bent down and gave the older woman a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you go now, but no more of this crazy stuff. Okay? You’re such a party animal.”
“I know, I know.” Vi flapped her hand as she was wheeled away. Phoebe watched her go and then took the only remaining empty chair in the room. “So, middle of the night?”
“Yeah. She usually calls for help around two or two thirty, so I was up reading, waiting, and I heard a crash and then a cry. I went in there and she was sprawled right out on the floor.”
“Oh, no. That must have been horrible,” Phoebe said.
“She said it’s the worst pain she’s ever felt in her life. I called the ambulance, they came right out, and they brought her down here. A clean break, all the way through her pelvis. Funny lady—as soon as they got her here, she took a nurse by the elbow and explained that she still needed to use the bathroom because she hadn’t made it to the toilet yet when she fell.”
“Oh, dear.” Phoebe tried not to laugh because the situation was pretty serious, but she could just see Vi doing that.
“So they got her a bedpan and she was fine.” Ashley shook her head. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with her. She’s too spunky for her own good.”
“And you wouldn’t have her any other way,” Tasha spoke up from her spot on the other side of the room.
“Absolutely not. I’m so glad you made it, Phoebe. Thanks for coming.”
“I almost didn’t make it. I was downtown and I think the building blocked my phone signal.”
“Downtown?”
“Yeah, I was asking about that crazy business deal. Phillip says he thinks it’ll work and offered to draw up a sample contract to look over.”
“Wow. So you’re really considering it?”
“I think I really am.” Phoebe paused. “Once I hear back from Bryce, that is. We’re playing phone tag or something.”
Ashley smiled. “I hope this works out—I really do. You deserve to have some good things in your life.”
“I have oodles of good things in my life already. Like good friends.”
“Well, yeah, of course, but I mean more good things.” She winked, and Phoebe rolled her eyes. Yeah, she’d been expecting that little tease about Bryce. It would be very out of character for Ashley not to rub it in whenever she could.
***
Twenty minutes into Vi’s procedure, Phoebe’s phone rang, and she was glad she wasn’t in a restricted use zone when she saw that it was Eileen. She moved off into the corner where it was quiet. “Hi there,” she said. “What can I do for you, Eileen?”
The other woman’s sigh sounded heavy through the receiver. “I just can’t sell to someone who wants to plow up my land,” she said. “I tried to logic my way through it, but my heart isn’t listening.”
“Nothing wrong with that at all,” Phoebe said. “I have an email in my box that I haven’t checked yet, and it says it’s in regard to your house. Maybe that’s the offer you’re looking for.” She was so tempted to tell Eileen about her chat with the lawyer that morning, but she knew that was way premature. Instead, she focused on something of more immediate concern. “Eileen, I have something else I need to tell you. I’m at the hospital right now. Vi fell last night and broke her hip, and she’s in surgery now.”
“Oh, no,” Eileen said. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Do they know how long the procedure will take?”
“They don’t. Would you like me to call you when she comes out?”
“Yes, please, dear. I’d like to know.”
“Absolutely.”
After hanging up, Phoebe went back into the waiting area to stare at the clock with her friends. She checked her email on her phone and sure enough, a private buyer was interested in looking at the Weiker home. She replied to say that she’d call in an hour, checked to see if there was anything else from Bryce—there wasn’t—and then she went back to waiting. Clocks in hospital waiting rooms had to be the slowest clocks in the whole world.
Chapter Sixteen
Bryce pulled his truck up across the street from the Weikers’. He’d gotten Phoebe’s text as he drove away from Dr. Mathis’s office and assumed she’d call when she was free, so he decided to use this time to do a little dreaming. He could just imagine what the house would look like with a row of deep purple irises in front along the porch. Of course, that would be Phoebe’s porch and he’d have to ask her if she liked irises, but he thought she would. She seemed like the type.
Mrs. Weiker came out to check the mail and paused by the box, riffling through the stack in her hand. Then she looked up, saw him, and waved. He waved back, feeling awkward. He hadn’t expected to be spotted, but now that he’d been seen, he needed to get out and say hello or it would be even weirder.
He got out of the truck and crossed the street. “Hello, Mrs. Weiker,
” he called out when he got close enough. “How are you today?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a plate of brownies and a trip to Jamaica,” she replied. “I wish I could give a good report on Vi, though. I just found out she broke her hip and has been taken into surgery. Phoebe told me.”
“Oh, wow. That really stinks.” That would explain why Phoebe hadn’t called him back yet. He knew she looked on Vi as a kind of surrogate aunt or grandmother. “Do they think she’ll be all right?”
“I don’t know that much, but we’ll keep all our fingers crossed.” She paused. “I understand you’d hoped to buy this house.”
“I did,” he said, keeping his tone neutral.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you make payments—I hope Phoebe told you that. I would love to see it go to people who really appreciate it, but I realize I don’t have control over everything as much as I’d like. If I did, Mike would still be alive and I’d be healthy, and I’d probably go back in time and make our children small again, too. Those were wonderful years.”
“I didn’t realize you weren’t healthy,” Bryce said.
“Multiple sclerosis. As I tell people, just one sclerosis wasn’t enough for me—I had to have multiple.” She chuckled. “Come on up to the house and have some lemonade with me. I could use a visitor today.”
He followed her inside, feeling a little bit guilty because his visit had begun as a stalking mission, and accepted the lemonade she handed him.
“If I could only count how many people have sat at my kitchen table,” she mused, taking a chair across from his. “It’s such a nice sunshiny spot, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I think it’s you they really come to see.” He took a sip. “What’s your magic?”
“I’ll tell you,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “People first.”
“I’m sorry—I don’t think I understand,” he replied.
“It’s like this. People are always more important than a task to be done or a problem to be solved. People are more important than money to be made or dishes to be washed. When you keep your relationships first, everything is as it should be. I learned that from my mother, and when I met Mike, I fell in love with him because he felt the same way. That’s what we built our whole lives around—making sure that everyone who came through our door knew they were valued. You can create that in your home as well, no matter where you live. It’s what’s in your heart, not what’s in your house.”
Bryce studied the little bits of lemon pulp floating in his glass. “Thank you,” he said after a long moment of feeling the puzzle pieces click into place in his brain. “You’ve done it again, you know. You’ve given me exactly what I need.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, sitting back with a satisfied look on her face. “Now, I just have one question for you.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Why are you sitting here with me when the girl you love is sitting around at the hospital?”
“I have no idea.” Bryce finished his lemonade in a long series of gulps, stood from his chair, and gave Mrs. Weiker a quick hug. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” he said into her ear.
“I certainly hope you do.”
As Bryce walked down the hallway toward the front door, he noticed a little cocker spaniel sitting up on the couch, her tail wagging furiously, her whole body shaking like she’d been dying to see him for hours. “Well, hello there,” he said, stepping into the living room to greet her. “What’s your name?”
“That’s Gertie, and—oh, my goodness,” Mrs. Weiker said. “Look at her! She’s like a whole new dog!”
Bryce scratched behind her ears. “She’s sure a cutie.”
“I can’t understand it. She’s been moping around here for weeks, ever since Mike died. This is the most animated I’ve seen her ever since.”
“She’s probably coming out of it,” Bryce replied. “Have a good afternoon—I’ll see you later.”
He left the house and climbed into the truck after checking his phone again to see if Phoebe had called. Still nothing, so he headed straight over to the hospital. There were a whole lot of things he needed to discuss with that young lady.
***
Phoebe looked up when Bryce came into the waiting room. Oh, no—she’d forgotten to call him back. There had just been too much going on that day, and Vi still wasn’t out of surgery.
“Hey,” he said as he took the seat next to hers. “I just heard. How is she?”
“She was in good spirits when they took her back, but we haven’t heard anything yet, and it’s been a little while.”
He glanced around. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Ashley took Tasha home so she could lie down—her ankles are swelling up pretty badly. I told them I’d call if anything happened in the meantime.” She looked at him and noticed that his eyes held a thousand stories. “Oh! Your doctor’s appointment today. How did it go?”
“We don’t have to talk about it right now if you’re worried about Vi,” he replied.
She raised an eyebrow. “That sounds suspicious, almost like telling me to sit down so you can give me bad news,” she said.
“It’s not bad news. It’s actually hopeful, in a way. The doctor wants to fuse my vertebrae together so they’ll stop rubbing against the nerves.”
That sounded absolutely horrible. “And that will get you out of pain?” she asked slowly.
“It should take care of most of it, yes. I read some pamphlets in his office. Apparently, with the kind of injury I have, I’ll always be in some sort of pain, but it should be reduced.”
“That’s a whole lot of conjecture,” she replied. “Nothing’s for certain?”
“Just death and taxes,” he said with a chuckle, but then he seemed to realize that wasn’t funny and he stopped laughing. “Listen, Phoebe—I need to apologize to you. I put you in a bad position, asking you to buy that house with me. That’s not even something I should have asked of a close friend, and we’re just barely getting reacquainted. I can be happy in the other house—in fact, I want to put an offer on it. Can we do that as soon as Vi’s stable?”
She blinked several times. “I’m sorry—what?”
He reached out and took her hand. “I want to put you first, ahead of the house and ahead of everything else. My relationship with you, whether it’s friends or . . . something more, maybe . . . it’s more important to me than houses or irises or any of the rest of it. I want you to feel valued and appreciated, and as more than just a business partner.”
Phoebe couldn’t believe what she was hearing—it was the kindest, most compassionate . . . “Guess where I was this morning.”
“I have no idea.”
“I went to my lawyer’s and asked about your business plan. He says it’s feasible, and he’ll draw us up a sample contract. If you still want one,” she hurried to add.
“But I thought . . . When I took you home on Saturday, I thought you were upset about the house,” he said.
“I was upset because I wasn’t sure how I felt,” she clarified. “You’ve got to understand, I can’t rush into things. I have to be careful. I have to know what I’m doing. I have to take each step slowly so I don’t trip and fall. It’s a survival thing for me. And when I realized how you were making me feel . . .” She’d already said too much. She clamped her lips together, wishing she could take back about seventy-five percent of the whole conversation.
“Oh? I make you feel a certain way in particular?” he asked, his tone a little wheedling.
“I don’t have to answer that,” she replied.
“I would say that on your honor as a lady, the fact that you started the sentence means that you must therefore in all good faith finish the sentence.”
She pressed her lips together to hide her smile. “I would say that because I am a lady, as you have just indicated, I have the right to retract anything that might incriminate my good name.”
“So you have something incriminating to say
. This gets more interesting by the minute.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, but she refused to budge.
“What if I tell you something incriminating about me?” He picked up her hand. “What if I told you how you’ve been making me feel?”
Her heart started to beat a little faster, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “You can tell me if you like. It really doesn’t matter to me.”
“It doesn’t? Are you sure? I thought you’d be all over that like white on rice.”
“Rice isn’t always white. There’s brown rice, and black rice, and red rice—have you ever had forbidden rice? I don’t know why it’s called that. Why would anyone forbid rice?”
He lifted his finger and traced it along her lower lip. “You have been making me crazy.”
“I . . . I have?” She had no idea how to take that.
“I can’t think about anything but you, I’m constantly asking myself what you’d think about this or that or the other thing, and I can’t sleep at night because of it. Well, and also because I’m in pain and I need back surgery, but besides that, it’s you.”
“How do you know that you aren’t confusing your feelings for me with back pain? It could all be one and the same, you know. You could come out of surgery and not care about me anymore.”
“That’s absolutely impossible.” He leaned forward and put his face very close to hers. She could see the little golden flecks in his eyes, and even a few of blue that she’d had no idea were there. “It’s impossible because I’m in love with you, and that’s not painful at all.”
“You’re in love with me?” she whispered.
“I’m in love with you.”
“But it’s only been a week,” she protested.
He shook his head. “I realized as I was driving over here that I’ve been at least half in love with you since high school. This is just part two.”
Phoebe's Fate (Burnt River Contemporary Western Romance Book 9) Page 8