And before you tell me how foolish I am, let me remind you, I love that house. It’s everything I’ve dreamed of since I was a child. It’s not about money. Not with this house.
The good thing that came out of all the drama with the letters (because everyone in town heard about it) is that people are now interested in the restoration of the Little house, something they haven’t been in the past. I’m not sure how they found out, because Dad swears he didn’t tell a soul, and Bella knows better. So, they had to hear it from someone.
No matter. I don’t care that they know. Because now the town believes there’s something extra special about the Little house. There is. Several people have asked me to “be sure to tell them when I’m all done so they can see it.”
Even Mona heard the gossip. Of course, she had something to say about it. “You’re a fool.” Those were the first words out of her mouth the other day when I bumped into her at the farmers’ market in town.
I had a snappy response. “Thank you, Mona.” I said it was snappy, not clever. What else could I say? “Fuck you, Mona” didn’t seem appropriate. It would have been nice but….
She wasn’t finished, though. “You have no idea what you’re up against, do you, Velma?”
She didn’t even bother adding Lou on the end. And what was I going to say in response? “No?” Definitely not. So, I merely raised up my shoulders and my hands in a big old shrug. “Guess not.”
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
Not really. I’ve always considered myself to be average in the brains department. Below average in everything else. Except for my skills related to my job. That, I’m well above average.
“One of these days, you’re going to get what you deserve.”
Um. Wow. That was a loaded statement, right? Surely, she wasn’t threatening me. Over a house? Maybe she meant it in a nice way. I snort at that ridiculous notion. No matter. I answer the only way I could think of in that moment, with optimism. “I sure hope so.”
“Stupid girl,” Mona snapped as she walked away.
Back to the letters. I’ve got to say, the biggest thing those letters have done is help me take my mind off you-know-who and allow me to refocus all my energy on the house. I’ve made huge progress in the last couple of weeks. The kitchen is nearly done. I’ve just finished the backsplash, and I chose handmade tiles that cost much more than I’d usually spend, but the house warranted the expense.
* * *
“Velma Lou?”
I feel my body being shaken gently. “Honey. Velma?” Dad repeats. “You need to get up.”
“No,” I groan. “What time is it?”
Dad’s quiet for a minute but then he answers, “After five.”
“In the morning?” I sound like a lazy kid. Then it hits me. “Are you okay, Dad? What’s wrong?” I sit up fast and throw my legs over the side of the bed. “Do you need me to do something? Should we call 911?”
“No. But, you need to get dressed and come downstairs.”
Oh. Shit. “Is Mom here?”
“What?” He practically gags on the words. “No. Just shut it and get some clothes on. Sheriff’s here.”
“Bella?” I ask. Oh, God. Did something happen to Bella?
“Jesus, no, child. Get your clothes on and get downstairs.”
I grab the first things I can find, which happen to be a pair of old sweatpants that I cut off at the knees and a tee. I’m about to run downstairs when I realize a bra is probably a good idea since I’ve no idea what’s going on. I whip off the old tee and shimmy into a sports bra I found in the top drawer of my dresser. With the tee back on, I slide into a pair of old flip-flops and I’m downstairs before I know it.
I practically slide across the hardwood floors until I’m two feet from Finn Manning, sheriff. He’s standing at the door with a very serious expression on his face. “What?” I look over at my dad, who’s drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. I notice, right away, that he’s got his clothes on too. “What’s wrong? Is it Bella?”
“No,” Finn answers me. “It’s—” He rubs his forehead. “It’s the house.”
“The house?” I look around the room then back at Finn. “Is it on fire?” I want to laugh at my own stupidity. Would we still be standing on the inside of the house if that were the case? And wouldn’t there be firefighters here too?
No. It was just a stupid question asked at a stressful time.
We’ll go with that.
