Tessa lifted the lunch bags from the bench and passed them to Nell. “I’ll see you soon.”
Nell hurried down the sidewalk toward the park. Tessa smiled as she walked to her office, thinking,First, I’ll help Nell, and then I’ll help Honeysuckle Hollow. Her smile widened.
Chapter 7
Home Fries
Asthesmoky-orangesunlowered, swirls of rose pink, pale melon, and gold striped the sky. Tessa closed down her computer at work. After spending an hour with Nell Foster and finding her family temporary housing, Tessa had written down everyone else on Nell’s street who needed help too. She’d had spent the rest of the afternoon contacting displaced homeowners and working with them and landlords to find homes. So far, there was only one family who still needed housing, and Tessa felt confident that she’d find a suitable place.
She stood and stretched, glancing out the window at sunset colors tinting the buildings and street. She reached into her purse and clasped her fingers around Honeysuckle Hollow’s skeleton key. She stared at the worn key resting in her palm. “I haven’t forgotten you. Because of what you’ve done for others, we’ll get you fixed up.” She dropped the key back into her purse. “Now if I could just figure out whatI’mgoing to do for permanent housing, that would be great.”
After closing down and locking up the office, Tessa returned to the apartment. She changed out of her work clothes and pulled on a pair of loose soccer shorts and a T-shirt. She grabbed the listings she’d printed for herself and made notes on the positives and negatives about each house. She glanced at the copy ofGuests of Honeysuckle Hollowon the coffee table. Tessa realized she’d been comparing all the listings to Honeysuckle Hollow. Did the listing have the same size yard? Was it located in a historic neighborhood? Would anyone refer to it as afairy-talehouse? Her cell phone rang, and she hesitated when she saw it was Marty again. But it might be nice to have a conversation with someone who wouldn’t demand she have immediate answers about future plans or major decisions.
“Hey, Marty.”
Marty launched into questions immediately. He wanted to make sure she was okay and to ask if she needed anything. He’d heard about the residences around Jordan Pond, and he’d been worried about her for days. Guilt trickled into her chest the more Marty talked. Tessa had only known Marty from the few times she’d seen him in the butcher shop, but a few weeks ago, his best friend’s wife had set them up for a group date. Marty obviously thought they had bonded during that one outing, and he’d been consistently texting and calling ever since. Tessa wasn’t into him, but he was so nice that she hadn’t yet had the heart to tell him to buzz off.
Marty was average looking at his best—built like a grizzly bear, with hands as big as vinyl records ending in fat, meaty fingers. His brown hair thinned across the top of his pale white scalp, and his glasses were too small for his wide, pudgy face. He wore ironed khakis, creased down the center of the pants legs, and a rotation of button-down shirts in varying shades of gray and navy blue. His averageness wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t smell like a meat locker. But he was anice guy. Just not Tessa’s guy.
Even though Tessa hadn’t wanted to talk about her plan of action for finding a home, it bothered her that after twenty minutes on the phone, Marty still hadn’t broached the subject of her future. But he did want to meet for dinner at Smiley’s Restaurant, Bar & Arcade in Willow Grove, and she was on the verge of agreeing but hesitated. Their conversations lacked depth and rarely ventured past anything more than discussing how their workdays had been or what movie they’d seen recently. Tessa decided to test their compatibility on a subject that was important to her.
She cleared her throat. “Honeysuckle Hollow is going up for sale soon.”
Marty breathed into the phone. “That old hunk-a-junk on Dogwood? Old Dr. Hamilton’s place?”
Tessa frowned. “It’s not junk. It needs work, sure, but it’s salvageable. A woman out West inherited it. She mentioned it being a teardown, but I think I can convince her not to.”
“Why?” Marty asked. “Wouldn’t it be easier to raze it so someone else can build something new and more practical?”
Tessa huffed. “It’s a historical home. You don’t justrazeit.”
Marty grunted. Tessa could picture the dull expression on his face.
“Would be easier, though,” he said.
“If I had the money, I’d rehab it myself,” she muttered, surprised at her own admission.
Marty snorted. “You? Tess, like my mama always says, ‘Stick with what you know.’ I know meat. You know real estate. No reason to shackle yourself to a money pit.”
Tessa sagged against the couch. Maybe Marty was right. What did she know about rehabbing old homes? Close to nothing. But the idea bounced around in her head like a ball in a pinball machine. She pulled out her notebook and flipped back to her most recent list, which askedWhat should I do?Beside the number four, she wrote the question,Rehab project?Then she added,Marty: No. Stick to what you know. Beside the number five she wrote,I could learn a new trade, couldn’t I?
“So whaddya say?” Marty asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Huh?”
“About dinner, Tess. Meet me in an hour? We’ll have a good time, and you can forget all about that dump of a house.”
Tessa scowled.But I don’t want to forget about it. I promised I would help it.“Eh, thanks, Marty, but it’s been a long day. Maybe some other time. I’ll talk to you later.”
Tessa sighed and fluttered the pages of house listings on the coffee table. She opened the living room window to let in a breeze. Then she knelt and rested her arms on the sill. Evening clouds scattered from the darkening sky, revealing the first stars of the night. Melancholy settled around her, and she let it linger for a few minutes. She still didn’t have a plan, and she would need one soon.
Her stomach growled, and she shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing her phone on the way. She texted Anna two questions:Should I sell my home? Can I learn a new trade?
Within a minute, her cell dinged. Anna texted,I think you’ve been offered a new opportunity to change your living arrangements. This could be an open window instead of a closed door. And it depends on the trade. You’re smart and capable. But you don’t want to become a chef, do you? Call me if you need to talk.At this point, Tessa didn’t even know what else to say. She grabbed her notebook. Beside number three’s responses from her mama and Lily about selling her home, Tessa added Anna’s answer.Anna: Yes, it’s a new opportunity.Now she had three people who were giving her the go-ahead to sell.
Tessa opened the fridge and grabbed the container of home fries. She filled the kettle, set it on the stove, and waited for the water to boil. Tessa microwaved the potatoes and walked into the living room. The mint’s fat leaves were growing larger every day, stretching long tendrils across the apartment. Now its arms invaded Canada, the US’s Pacific coast, and Central America. She pulled off a handful of leaves, releasing the cool scent into the air. When she inhaled, the melancholy faded.
Tessa dropped mint leaves into the porcelain teapot and doused them in hot water. Her shoulders relaxed, and she marveled at the mint’s ability to relax her. Crazy Kate’s voice filled her head.Sprinkle some thyme from the garden into your potatoes, and tell me you don’t know the rain is coming before everyone else. The microwave dinged, and Tessa filled her mug with mint tea.
