“So, listen, the repast is at May’s house,” he says. “I know you weren’t quite ready to go there yesterday.”
Listening to those stories, feeling so distant from May, makes me wonder if I need to make a move to feel closer. To feel her.
“I’m ready today,” I tell him. He tilts his head to the side.
“You sure? No one will be there for a while. We can go, and I can give you the tour before people get there, if you want to see it before it’s loaded with people.” I smile and nod and follow him back to his truck. I pay attention as he drives, slowly trying to learn my way around the town, which general direction the few acquaintances I’ve met here live. I’ve only seen May’s house by boat, though, so this is all new territory.
We drive down Lakeshore Highway, past what I recognize to be the road that leads to Alma’s. We keep driving, past Big Moon Sports, then past Lou’s. Finally, he veers off the road to the left, down another long, winding, wooded road. As we drive, the houses grow more scarce, and the trees take over. The lake follows us through the trees as if it’s guiding us. Then, he makes one final left turn down a gravel driveway, and I see it in all its wooden magnificence. It’s immaculate, the landscaping pristine enough to be on the front cover of a magazine. Two rocking chairs sit perched on the front porch, and the house seems to be plastered with huge windows. It’s just as beautiful on this side as it was from the water. He’s at my door before I can pick my jaw up off the ground and helps me out.
“So, this is it,” he says. He plucks a key from his keychain and leads me up the steps to the front door. When he opens it, I’m hit with the smell of pine. We step into a grand foyer, and I follow him into the great room behind it. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in loads of natural light. There’s a massive island topped in granite to my left in the chef’s kitchen, and doors that lead out to a deck off the great room. A large staircase sits in the corner of the room, and it had to be professionally decorated. Beautiful paintings hang on every wall. I twirl around, taking in every corner, every knot in the wood floors, every bit of light that seeps in to warm us up.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he says. “So, this is where May made her famous Bolognese sauce.” We walk toward the kitchen as he holds his arms out. “This is the table where she kicked my ass in poker on more than one occasion.” I laugh out loud. I follow him around to every end of the house, still ogling at the beauty of this house.
“Up here,” he says as he takes the stairs two-by-two, “are the other bedrooms. There are a few in the basement, too. This,” he says, pushing open one of the thick pine doors, “is Haven’s room.” I look around, and I suddenly feel a bit like I’m intruding. I can’t help but notice, though, that her bedspread is made of teals and greens—my favorite colors. And on the small desk in the corner of the room sits a vase of sunflowers. My favorite flower.
I follow him down to the other end of the hall. He takes a breath as he pushes open one of the doors.
“This was May’s room,” he says. I look around, more light spilling into the massive suite from the windows and sliding glass doors. But he doesn’t move to step inside the room, and neither do I. He closes the door slowly and blows out another breath. Then he walks me to the last door at the end of the hall. “And this,” he says, pushing the door open ever so slowly, “was yours, if you ever wanted it.”
I look at him, my lips parting a bit.
The room isn’t near as big as May’s, but it’s the stuff of dreams. A bench in the bay window to my left and big sliding doors that lead to a private balcony at the back of it. He nods his head as if to let me know it’s okay for me to explore it. And I do. I step inside, noticing every single detail. The wooden logs that make up the walls, the softness of the carpets. The pine furniture that matches the rest of the house. The beautiful handmade quilt that’s draped across the bed. I walk toward the balcony doors and flick the lock open.
I step outside and look out over the water. I close my eyes as a breeze rushes through, blowing my hair back and sending a shiver down my spine.
“Amazing,” is all I can muster up as my eyes drink in everything around me. Before I realize it, he’s next to me. He looks down to me, towering over me like the trees around us.
“It is,” he says, his eyes piercing into mine. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I can’t believe, after all this time, she waited for me,” I whisper. I jump slightly when I feel his hand brush up against mine on the railing.
“She must have known you were worth waiting for,” he says. Our eyes meet again for the briefest moment before he jumps back and clears his throat, walking back through the door.
Just as we’re making our way down the steps, we hear the front door open. He turns back to me as I step onto the last step.
“It’s gonna get crazy here today,” he tells me. “If you need to go, if you need me, find me.”
I nod slowly, my stomach flipping again. God, why does this keep happening?
Alma walks through the front door, carrying an armful of platters, bags draped on either arm. I scurry to help her while Derrick goes out to her car to get more. Haven follows closely behind, carrying a stack of casserole dishes in her arms, but she barely looks at any of us as she walks them to the kitchen and puts them on the island. Alma starts giving us instructions on things to heat up, stir, and dish out, and as Derrick and I shuffle around the kitchen, I notice Haven walking up the steps, then I hear a bedroom door open and shut shortly after.
“That girl will never be the same after this,” Alma says over my shoulder, eyeing the stairs.
11
I’m able to keep myself busy, helping unwrap all the dishes people are bringing in, filling up the ice buckets, and stirring whatever is simmering on the stove. I’m not usually so introverted; I actually thrive in situations where I have to be loud, make my presence known. It’s something I got from my dad, I guess, whether I wanted it or not.
“Let people know you’re there. That’s how you get the big office, kid.”
All his little tidbits of “wisdom” he passed on to me throughout the years seem so tainted now.
Right now, though, I’m more comfortable fading into the background. Not because I don’t know the people around me; I don’t have a problem breaking the ice. It’s more that I don’t feel like I know myself. Like all these people around me know more about my family history than I do.
“Sweetie, put that spoon down and come on outside. There are a lot of people out here who want to meet you,” Alma says from behind me. I sigh. So much for blending in. I wipe my hands on the kitchen towel and brush my hair back off my shoulder. She puts her arm around me as she walks me outside, and I feel at ease the moment she touches me.
“Everyone, this is Kaylee!” Alma all but shouts as we walk onto the deck. I’m met with cheers and “hellos” from every angle. I turn and wave to them all simultaneously, trying to remember their faces and names as she guides me to the table.
“This is Abby,” Alma says, pointing to a middle-aged woman at the corner of the deck, sipping lemonade. “She and her family own Shirley’s Diner up toward the edge of town. That’s her husband, Rick, down there.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Kaylee,” Abby says. “We’ve all heard so much about you.”
Can’t say the same.
“Thank you, it’s so nice to meet you, too,” I say with my best forced smile.
“And this is Luna, I think you met her,” Alma says. Luna and I nod to each other, and I’m thankful for a familiar face. “That’s Patsy and Pete, they live right up the street here. That’s Darby there, another good friend of May’s. I think you met my other son, Teddy.” Teddy nods in my direction, and I wave back. “And you met my grandbabies. And you know Mila and Ryder.” Mila winks at me, and I like that I already have someone who feels like a friend here. Or, at least, a friend that I don’t picture naked all the time, like I do with Derrick. It’s very distracting.<
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“And we know she knows Derrick,” Teddy says with a mischievous laugh, and I swallow and look around. Not everyone seems to be clued in to Teddy’s joke, thankfully, but Alma pinches his arm as he walks by. Derrick catches my eyes from below the deck, narrowing his eyes at me and showing off that perfect smile. Ugh. I shouldn’t be lusting after someone so hard at a damn funeral. My grandmother’s funeral, to be specific.
Yep. I’m going straight to hell.
“And this,” Alma says, making me stand at attention. I didn’t realize the introductions were still going on. “This right here is Lou Baker. You’ve probably seen his grill up on the highway.”
“Ah, yes. Derrick showed me on our tour. So, you’re that Lou, huh?” I ask. Alma motions to the chair next to Lou, and I smile and take it.
“Honey, I’m the only Lou that’s worth knowing.” He smiles, and I can’t help but smile back immediately. He’s got a few caps on his teeth and long, white hair that’s pulled back into a ponytail that points down his back. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, and his forearms are loaded with faded tattoos that look like they might have been done with the tip of a pen thirty or forty years ago. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Lou,” I tell him, and I mean it.
“Your grandmother was an angel on this earth,” he says, and echoes of “here, here” pop up around the table. “And there are quite a few of us here today who wouldn’t be without her.”
His eyes are a vibrant blue, and they drop to his hands on the table. “Me included.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He leans back in his chair and shimmies his suit jacket off, draping it on his chair. The air is cool for it being the end of summer, but it’s warm enough to make you sweat in a full suit.
“When I first got to Meade Lake about fifteen years ago, I was a damn mess. Ain’t that so, Alma?” He looks up at her, grabbing her forearm. She pats his hand and kneels down to kiss his forehead.
“You know I love you, Lou. But you were a mess,” she says, and they share a chuckle.
“I’d been using drugs for twenty years before that. Lost my wife, lost custody of my kid, lost my job. Lost everything. And never got any of that back. Not even my kid.”
My heart sinks in my chest.
“I came here to stay with a friend of mine until I could get back on my feet. But the problem was, I wasn’t ready to get on my feet. So, I drank and did more drugs for about a year. Got arrested a number of times, spent a few nights in jail. Till finally, my friend gave up on me, too. Told me he couldn’t handle it. And I can’t say I blame him. So, there I was, walking down Lakeshore Highway with everything I owned in a damn backpack, in my forties, and homeless. What a chump I was.”
Alma rubs his shoulder as he goes on.
“A car pulls up to me, whistles out the window, then pulls over in front of me. And who hops out? The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She walked up to me and looked me dead in the eyes. Told me her name was May, and she’d seen me walking around aimlessly and had seen me asleep on a few public benches and in the back of restaurants on occasion. Asked me what I wanted if I could have anything. Be anything. I told her a father first. Then, I’d want to own my own restaurant.
“She thought for a moment then told me she’d make me a deal. Told me if I got into a rehab facility and got clean, she’d lend me money to lease out this old building on the side of the highway. She’d help me start a restaurant. Then, she told me maybe, one day, I’d get the chance to be a father again. I’m still waiting for that.” He pauses as a pained smile crosses his lips.
“But I did it. I checked into rehab for two months. She lent me money to rent a small apartment about a mile from the grille. Then, she took me to the leasing office, and we signed all the paperwork. And Lou’s Lakeside Grille was born. And so was the new Lou.”
I nod slowly as I take it all in.
“That’s amazing, Lou,” I mutter. He nods.
“Sweetie, she was amazing. One of my dearest friends. Just like Alma, here.” He kisses her hand, and she pats him again.
“There are a lot of us here who can tell you stories like that, Kaylee,” Abby says. “May changed us all. Taught us to care about each other. She was like family.”
“Yeah,” someone echoes.
“Amen,” Alma says next to me.
“She was family.” All heads whip in the direction of the back door where Haven stands, her arms wrapped around herself. Lou stands and wraps her in a hug, and everyone grows quiet. I can hear her stifled sobs on his chest, and I look away. It seems like tears are falling from everyone’s eyes, except for mine. I slowly stand up and excuse myself from the table and walk back inside. I put my hands on the cool granite counter, wondering how—what the hell I’m supposed to feel. But while I figure it out, I know I need a break. I reach for my purse that’s tucked underneath the island and pull my keys from it. And then I remember that I don’t have a car here.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I hear Alma say as she walks in and stands next to me. “I know she was a stranger to you.”
I nod.
“But maybe being here, meeting all of us… Maybe that will give you some indication of the kind of woman she was. Who she was,” she says. I nod again. “So, what do you think of the house?”
I look up at the cathedral ceilings, the giant log rafters that stretch across it from corner to corner.
“It’s gorgeous,” I tell her. “It’s strange. I felt sort of…calm today, when I first stepped inside.” She smiles.
“May’ll do that to ya,” she says. “Listen, Haven is staying with me for a while. She doesn’t want to be alone, not that I blame her. If you want to check out of the inn, you can stay here. This is your house.”
My eyes meet hers, and I smile. I nod.
“I think I’d like that.”
“Good.” She walks toward a hook on the wall and pulls off a key. “This is the key to May’s Explorer out there. It’s probably as old as you, but Derrick kept it running good. It’s yours. Why don’t you go get your things and come back? Some people will have left, and it’ll be a little quieter. We’ll be out of your hair soon.”
I smile.
“I don’t mind,” I tell her, but I’m lying a little. It’ll be nice to get my bearings here in this house alone. I thank her and walk toward the door, but then I freeze. “Alma, can you tell Derrick I said goodbye?” I ask. She smiles.
“Of course, baby,” she says. I smile, and as I reach for the door, I turn back.
“And Haven?”
She freezes, her expression growing more serious.
“Of course.”
When I get back to the inn, I throw the few things I actually have in my bag and tidy up a bit. I make my way down the steps to the front desk, bag in hand. But when I get there, Mrs. Miller pops up from behind the desk, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Leaving so soon?” she asks, and I can hear the fear in her voice. I remember what Mila told me.
Ever since the Willington Ski Resort opened a few years back, the rest of the inns around here have had some trouble filling up.
“No, not just yet. Just going to stay at a friend’s tonight. But I’m not checking out yet, if that’s okay with you,” I tell her. I watch her shoulder shrink in relief. After all, I’m a manager now. Oh yeah, and a millionaire. I can afford to pay for a few extra nights at this inn, even if I don’t stay.
“Oh, great. We’ll see you soon, sweetie!” she calls behind me as I walk back out to the parking lot. I realize now that I have two cars parked in the lot: mine and May’s Explorer. As I look at the shiny, brand-spanking-new car my dad had surprised me with a few months earlier, I feel disgust. I recognize it was just another ploy, another pawn for his control. I opt for the Explorer, get in, and head toward May’s house. Toward my house.
When I pull up, the only car left is Alma’s.
“There you are,” she says, putting the last of the platters
away in the cabinet above the stove.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I missed cleaning up.”
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” she says, waving me off. “We’re all good here. Get all your things?” I nod and hold my bag up. I look around the kitchen and into the great room.
“He’s not here,” she says, wiping down the counters.
“Huh? Who?” I ask, feigning innocence. Her lips curve up into a smile as one of her eyebrows shoot up.
“My boy,” she says, putting her hand on her hip. “He took Haven back to my house for the night. She’d had enough.”
I could deny that I was looking for him, but I don’t really see the use in it.
“How was she?”
Alma shrinks.
“She just lost the person who her whole world revolved around, baby,” she says. “Not good. That type of hole in your heart never does heal.”
I nod and look down at the ground. She folds the towel over the rack on the front of the oven then turns to me.
“Okay, baby. Everything should be in order. All the leftovers from today are in the fridge in case you get hungry. Need me to show you around?” she asks.
“I think I got it,” I tell her. “Thank you, Alma.”
“Always, baby. You don’t know it yet, but you’re family now.” When she smiles at me, I see just how much Derrick looks like her. I nod, and we say our goodbyes. And then the exhaustion hits. I lock the front door and trudge up the big staircase, looking out over the railing through the gigantic windows. I can see the moonlight sprinkled across the water, trailing up to the trees. It’s breathtaking.
My room is just as clean and tidy as it was this morning when I first saw it, and I can’t believe it’s mine. I slip my shoes off and throw my bag on the bed. When I do, the files from Jeffrey slide out, and I see the corner of the envelope sticking out. I swallow and tug it out.
Stones Unturned (Meade Lake Series Book 2) Page 8