“Yes, he was.”
“He loved history, didn’t he?”
“He was the director of the Abernathy Museum in Lansing,” Hailey shifted in her seat. “He did love history.”
“Is that where you work now? I remember us talking about a museum.”
“Yeah, I’m trying to become the registrar right now. It’s more competitive than you know.”
Mr. Whitmore drew a laugh. “I picture museums to be boring. But I guess I’m wrong. If you want to sell the family estate, that’s up to you. I’m sure Jonathan Holloway was an excellent people reader.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was always listening and watching more than he ever acted or spoke. Or, at least that was how he was during his visits. I bet he could read people very well.”
“Yeah, I guess he could.” Hailey hadn’t thought about that before, but it did make sense. There were times when her dad could just tell things about others. “He had a knack for knowing which exhibit would make someone happy.”
“Yes, see!” Mr. Whitmore rubbed his hands together. “I hope it’s something you’ve picked up on, because you’ll need to be sure the orchard falls into the right hands.”
“I can do my best, but I’m not my father.”
Mr. Whitmore squinted, studying Hailey for a second.
“Besides,” she sat tall in her chair. “No one will spend this much money on something without a solid plan to make a profit.”
“Well, there’s the Holloway spirit. So, we’ll take stock after the final harvest and put the numbers in for record. Should be simple after that.”
“What do you mean, after the harvest?”
“The orchard can’t sell until the profit and loss is compiled. We’ll get the final figures from Jacob in about a week. It’s all here,” he leaned over and pointed to a paragraph on the second page of the document. “I’m sorry about the delay, but Dierdre had me put it in her will.”
Hailey drew in a long breath and then sat back. That sly charmer. He knew the whole time, he must have. Mr. Whitmore lifted his brow, catching Hailey’s eye in the process. She cleared her throat.
“Is this something only you and Dierdre knew? The stuff about her will?”
“Oh, I suppose a few people would know, but your aunt was a private person.”
“What do I do until I can sell?”
“Well, you just sign the paper here, then I’ll get you to the bank, and it’ll all be yours.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to run the place, am I?”
“Jacob manages the orchard as far as the manual work goes.”
Hailey’s brow lifted as she twisted the pen in her fingers. “And the non-manual work?”
Mr. Whitmore leaned back and grabbed a folder from the cabinet behind him. He thumbed through the pages before handing the packet to Hailey.
“Dierdre kept records of all her accounts. Who she paid at the orchard, who she sold to. It’s all in here.”
“Okay,” Hailey leaned over and studied the bottom line of the page. Why couldn’t Mr. Whitmore just print a new sheet? Why did the bottom have a white-out mark under her freshly typed name? “What’s this?”
“Um, I hope you don’t mind. I never reprinted the document after hearing of your father’s death.”
“Oh.”
“I guess I still imagined he’d come walking through my door someday.”
“Sure.” Me too.
“Oh, you’ll need to show the bank this,” he handed her one last piece of paper. “And, you have a photo ID, I hope.”
“Oh yeah,” she pulled out her wallet from her handbag and showed the man her license.
“No, I have a picture of you on file already. Dierdre gave it to me so that I’d know it was you and not an impostor.”
“Oh,” Hailey nodded as she looked over the last document Mr. Whitmore had handed her. “So, what’s this?”
“Take that to the North Merriweather Bank—with the ID—and they’ll transfer all of Dierdre’s accounts into your name.” Mr. Whitmore took the paper Hailey had signed and went to the copier. “Dierdre never let others touch her money.” A few beeps and a copy came through. Mr. Whitmore rejoined Hailey and gave her the copy. “Although, I know Tom was pretty helpful as of late. Especially when Dierdre couldn’t walk. I’m sure he’ll help if you need.”
Oh, she didn’t doubt that.
“It came on fast, didn’t it?” Hailey put the papers together and gathered them in her arms. She stood and followed Mr. Whitmore to the door.
“I think she knew something was wrong years ago.”
“And there wasn’t anything she could do back then?”
“I think she was tired, Miss, um, Hailey. Tired and ready to rest.”
“Thanks,” Hailey went out with her hands full.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
Before getting into her car, Hailey waved at Mr. Whitmore as he waved back.
North Merriweather Bank was across town. Through the roundabout, Hailey missed the road and went around once more. Taking Fifth Street, so aptly named for being the fifth road from the edge of town, Hailey found the bank. Nestled into a quiet neighborhood, one that looked nothing like a business district, the North Merriweather Bank was a simple one-story building. It looked like a perfect little square, decked out in red bricks and a stairway with big green bushes on either side. Hailey parked her car and went up.
Hailey shivered right as the door closed. The air conditioning kept the inside feeling like a freezer, and Hailey just hated being cold. Sure, the sun was a bit intense for a September afternoon, but it wasn’t going to cause a heatstroke. The cold air, though, that was capable of a good stiff neck.
“Can I help you?” a teller asked Hailey.
“Yeah, Nathaniel Whitmore gave me this,” Hailey lifted the paper into sight.
“Oh, yes,” the woman stepped around the counter and motioned Hailey to follow. “Charles’ been waiting for you.” Down a short hall, Hailey followed the woman until she stopped outside a closed door with a nameplate that read Charles Harington. “Charles?” she tapped the door.
“Yes?”
The woman pushed open the door and greeted the man with a smile. “This is Hailey Holloway.”
It was like everyone knew her already.
“Miss Holloway, yes,” Charles stood and met Hailey near the door. Extending his hand, Charles shook Hailey’s hand and then waved her to a chair.
“I’ll leave you to it,” she said just before closing the door behind her.
“Sorry to hear about Dierdre,” Charles sat back down in his oversized leather chair. “She was a real figure here in town.”
“Was she?”
“Oh, yeah. Donated to the school every spring. Not to mention the personal loans she offered her friends.”
“What friends?” Hailey had a chuckle brewing.
“Oh, there was that woman about ten years ago,” Charles spoke as he reviewed the paper Hailey had brought. Right, ten years ago. Hailey blew her bangs from her eyes. “And that, um…” Charles snapped his fingers in thought. “That restaurant, you know?” Hailey shrugged. She could only remember two things about Blushing Bay: the apples and the beach. “Anyway, if you have an ID, I’ll get this set up.” Hailey nodded, then pulled her license from her shoulder bag and slid it over the desk.
“How’s this work?”
“I just have to file this transfer,” Charles typed quickly as he spoke, “then we’ll print and sign.”
“Great.”
“Are you planning to sell still?”
“I, uh…”
“Word travels pretty fast around here.”
“I see.”
Charles stood from his chair and paced to the printer. After the document came out, he returned to his desk and signed the bottom of the page.
“What happens when I sell?”
“After all the numbers are in, I can set the value for the property. T
hen, you just pick the lucky soul and we transfer the orchard over.”
Hailey nodded.
“One thing, though,” Charles turned the paper toward Hailey and got up from his chair again. “You’ll need to handle the accounts until the sale is final.”
“Isn’t there just the one account?”
“There are three,” he tugged a big binder from a cabinet and then returned to his desk. “One for payroll, one for property—you know, damages and insurance and all that—and one is a personal funds account.” Charles put the binder on the desk in a thud. “It’s all here.”
“Um.” That thing was bigger than her, and she was sure it weighed more, too.
“If it gets overwhelming, I can balance the books for you.”
“Sure, I’ll let you know.”
“Do you have any questions?”
“Um, how long will the sale take?”
“Well, even with a buyer lined up, the papers have to be filed with the county. Probably a couple of weeks. Maybe more.”
“More? But we’re doing this in one afternoon.”
Charles looked like a nice man. He smiled, was courteous, had a pleasant voice, but Hailey could see that he was bothered by her urgency.
“When Dierdre got sick, she and I met and readied all the papers necessary. It took time for me to get everything set. I had to coordinate with her lawyer, and I asked her draw up a secure will. That way nothing would happen to her family’s heritage.”
Hailey gripped the pen and studied over the paper for a few seconds. Words and numbers, black and white. Things weren’t so simple, though. The whole meeting was starting to feel gray.
“You think I’m making a mistake, don’t you?”
“Miss Holloway—”
“Please, call me Hailey.”
“Hailey, I can’t tell you what to do with your inheritance. I know it came in a way that you must not have expected, with your dad passing on so young. And even though the Holloway Orchard is something of a historical estate around here, it’s your life. I would like to say, if I may, that letting it fall into the wrong hands would be a shame. But I’m sure you’re capable of finding the right person for the job.”
Hailey nodded. Gripping the pen again, she scribbled her name quick and pushed the paper over to Charles.
“Wonderful,” he extended his hand to her. After they stood, he explained, “I’ll have all the copies made and the account information ready for mailing tomorrow.”
“Alright, thank you.”
“And, Hailey, if the sale takes longer than you expect, it will be fall soon. You won’t have to stay in town to care for the place. I’m sure Jacob could handle that for you.”
“Yeah, that’s good.” She grabbed the binder and stood up, and it nearly knocked her back into the chair.
Charles laughed. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”
“Just a bit.” Charles held the door for her, but she stopped with another question. “How long is the actual harvest? No one’s really told me.”
“Oh, well, they’ve been gathering fruit for the past few months. The thing about apples and berries is that they continue to produce until the weather gets cooler. The trees not so much, but apple picking begins early and ends late. The final harvest, which is what they’re doing now I believe, should resolve in about a week. Sometimes there’s a little left over after the festival.”
“Thanks,” Hailey nodded. On her way through, she nearly dropped the binder, but with a tight grasp, she got outside and to her car. All this business was enough to make her want a real vacation, not just a short impromptu one for family affairs. And she still had a meeting lined up with Mr. Porter, a man she now wasn’t sure she wanted to meet.
Chapter Four
“You haven’t met her yet?” Tom asked Jacob as they walked down Main Street toward The Paper Café, a coffee shop filled with borrowable books.
“Nah, she was gone this morning when I pulled in. I don’t even know what she drives.”
“A little red car.” The same color as her lipstick.
“Like that one?” Jacob pointed across the street. Sure enough, there she was. Hailey Holloway, licking the whipped cream from her straw in such a manner Tom had to clear his throat. No way she was going to occupy his mind like she had the day before. Checking for traffic, Tom went right across the street and tapped on the window. And Hailey, mid-lick, dropped the whipped cream right into her lap.
“Hails,” Tom grinned. “I see you’re checking out the town.”
“Why would you do that?” she corrected him after rolling down her window. “I love these jeans.”
“Just throw ‘em in the wash.”
Hailey grunted and set her coffee into a cup holder.
“Okay, okay,” he stepped back from the car and squinted in the sunlight. “Didn’t mean to make you mad.”
Hailey huffed through her nose. “I’m not mad.”
“Well, you surely look—,”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Jacob.”
“Oh, Jacob. Hello,” her tone shifted a bit too quickly for Tom’s ears. Hailey got out of the car, pushing the door right into Tom’s knees, and reached out her hand to Jacob. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“I hear you take good care of the orchard.”
“I try.”
“Well, I’m glad I can rely on you. I wouldn’t know the first thing about managing all that fruit.”
“Didn’t Dierdre teach you about it?”
“Well, I spent a little time here a few years ago,” Hailey closed her car door and squinted in the sun. “But I just stayed at the beach most the time.”
“That’s alright. I didn’t speak to Dierdre much myself. She kept to her roses and I kept to the trees.”
“Sounds like her,” Hailey giggled and brushed her bangs back behind her ear. It was a gentle gesture, one that caught Tom’s eyes and wouldn’t let go.
“I suppose I’ll see you around the orchard.”
“Right. I imagine you’ll all be busy with the harvest, won’t you?”
“Twelve-hour days, only Sunday off. Really it starts in late June when the first wave ripens.”
“Yeah, Charles at the bank was just telling me.”
“You’ve been all over town, huh?” Tom rose to his toes as he spoke. “See anything you like?”
Hailey bit her lip for a second. “Um, a couple of things. It’s quiet here, that’s nice.”
“It is nice. And the coffee?”
“Oh, it’s the best I’ve had in a long time.”
“Nothing like the corporate shops in Lansing, I bet.”
Hailey’s eyes tightened over Tom. “Yeah, not at all.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but Tom beat her to it.
“You know, the city isn’t all that far from here. You could easily travel back and forth if you wanted.”
“Why would I—”
“If you spent more time here than there, you could enjoy our coffee almost every day.”
“Tom,” Hailey rocked to her heels and bit her lip again. “You know that’s not my intention.”
“What is?” Jacob asked.
Hailey’s eyes shifted from Tom to Jacob as her cheeks turned pink. Go on, just say it. But she couldn’t quite get it out. Something was making her hesitate, maybe even making her feel bad about the choice. Not her problem? She did feel like it was, that or she was getting hot from the sun. Tom could tell which it was.
“Speaking of the orchard, you got to get back soon or those apples won’t get picked,” Tom said. He pulled open the car door for Hailey and gave her a nod. Making her want to stay was one thing, but embarrassing her was something he just couldn’t do.
“Right,” Hailey took hold of the door and slid into her seat. “It was nice seeing you both.”
“Likewise,” Tom shut the door.
“What was all that about?” Jacob asked. They stopped at the crosswalk and waited
for the cars to pass before stepping out on the street.
“She didn’t want to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“That she’s selling the orchard.”
“She’s what?” Jacob grabbed Tom’s arm to make him stop walking. “And she wasn’t going to say anything to us?”
Tom shook his head.
“Do you know who she wants to sell to?”
Tom made a face.
“That bad?”
“It’s Matt.”
Tom started down the sidewalk again. Just around the corner sat the café, and the smell of pastries and coffee came rushing at him in the wind.
“How in the hell did he come up with that kind of money? The last time I saw him, he took what was yours because he had nothing left.”
“I know. I’m guessing she’s helping him out.”
“You mean her dad’s helping him out.”
“Yep.”
“Well, you can’t just let that happen.”
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
“I saw the way you looked at her.”
“Oh, here we go again. Ash was saying the same damn thing.”
“She’s probably right.”
Tom opened the door to the café and he and Jacob got in line.
“Show her what she’s missing out on,” Jacob’s voice was quieter now that they were inside. It always made Tom smile to see Jacob and that bushy black beard, standing a good few inches taller than Tom, hunch over and whisper. “I mean it. We have a lot that the city doesn’t. I bet she has no idea how great this place can be.”
“You’re just saying that because you grew up here.”
“Yeah, but even you like it.”
“I like the lake.”
“That’s not why you stayed. You could have left this place just like she’s thinking about doing. You’re just the person to convince her.”
“In case you didn’t catch it, I don’t like her all that much.”
“Oh, is that what that was?”
“Hey guys,” the barista greeted them at the counter. “Same as yesterday?”
Both of them nodded.
“It’ll be eight, thirty-four,” she said. Jacob handed her the money and she gave him the change.
“Thanks, I’ll get the next one,” Tom said as they went to stand by the wall and wait.
Out of the Blue Page 3