Tessa cleared her throat. “You’re leaving today?”
“This afternoon.”
Tessa stepped toward him and held out her hand, feeling a twinge of disappointment. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you have a safe trip to the Cook Islands. I look forward to reading your story in print.”
Paul’s cheek dimpled. He stepped around the coffee table, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into a hug. Tessa stumbled against his chest and made a noise that sounded likeoomphas her breath squeezed out. On the next inhale, she breathed in the scent of cloves. She couldn’t control herself from relishing the feel of his arms around her, and she sighed. He let go and righted her.
A goofy grin deepened his dimples. “Did you just sigh?”
Tessa’s stomach clenched. “No. I wasbreathing. You nearly squeezed me to death.”
“This was an unexpected rooming situation, Ms. Tessa, but I thank you for your hospitality.”
“Safe travels,” she said. “I’ll put a pin on the islands after you’re gone.” Disappointment expanded inside her, but she forced a smile. All good things must end, but she’d hoped this good thing might last longer than a few days.
“Interested in keeping tabs on me? I like it,” he said. “Maybe we could keep in touch.”
Was he serious? “Like pen pals?”
He chuckled. “Calling each other ‘pen pals’ went out of fashion with teased hair and Aqua Net. Give me your number, and I’ll text you mine.”
Tessa called out her number, and in a few seconds, her phone dinged, alerting her that Paul’s number was waiting for her. She would add him into her contacts later, but she promised herself she wouldn’t hold on to the hope that their communication would stretch much further than today. She lifted her hand in a small wave, shouldered her bag, and walked out into the whiteness. A wall of fog rolled into the apartment, and Paul stood in the doorway. Tessa tried to navigate the stairs without missing one, but the haze was nearly blinding.
“You’re disappearing,” Paul called from the landing. “You sure it’s safe to drive in this?”
Tessa hesitated halfway down the staircase. Hope flared in her; she gripped the handrail tighter. If the fog was this heavy everywhere, would it stop the bulldozer?And then what, Tessa?she asked herself. She glanced up at Paul’s ghostly silhouette at the top of the stairs.
“I’m hoping no one will be out in this weather.”
“Does that include the bulldozing bullies?”
Tessa smiled. “It’s like you read my mind.”
Tessa could have arrived at Honeysuckle Hollow faster if she had walked rather than driven. Navigating the cloudy streets made her feel as though at each corner she just might fall off the edge of the world. Every now and then the lights of an approaching car peeked out of the fog like the glowing eyes of a dragon. By the time Tessa reached Dogwood Lane, her fingers were sore from the knuckle-white grip she had on the steering wheel.
She parked the Great Pumpkin along the street. “Let’s get this over with.”
Tessa walked up the sidewalk, parting the fog like a boat rowing through a swamp. As she neared Honeysuckle Hollow, she saw that the bulldozer had already arrived, and it sat waiting across the street. Two men argued in the front yard, looking like two ghosts rising from mist. Fog encircled their legs and crept around their waists. The older man’s temper had not improved since the day before, and the fluorescent shirt on the young man made him look like a human glow stick.
“Listen, Greg,” the young man said, “I can’t control the weather. It’s not safe to run this machine in this kind of visibility. You can’t even see the front door from across the street.”
“You young people and your excuses,” Greg snarled. “I’ll do it myself.”
“You know you’re not allowed to drive the dozer. It’s company policy.”
Greg shoved the young man out of the way and stormed across the street. The young man chased after him, yelling at Greg to get off the trailer and then to get out of the bulldozer and then not to dare turn it on. The bulldozer rumbled as the engine started. The trailer shuddered. While Tessa watched, Greg backed the bulldozer off the trailer and into the street. The yellow monster lurched across Dogwood Lane with grinding gears. Tessa felt the irrational desire to jump in front of the machine and beg Greg to stop, but even through the mist, she could see him glowering in the cab.
The young man hopped up and down beside the bulldozer, waving his arms like an inflatable windsock. His yells were lost to the noisy roar of the diesel engine. The bulldozer’s blade dropped onto the sidewalk, cracking the concrete, and pushed forward. Tessa backed away, clutching her purse to her chest and feeling the sting of tears. She thought of Dr. Matthias Hamilton and the beautiful damask roses he used to share with everyone in the neighborhood. She thought of the hundreds of guests who’d ended up on Honeysuckle Hollow’s doorstep in need and how the house had always opened its doors. Could they have ever imagined the house would be flattened for a Fat Betty’s?
The bulldozer rolled through the yard, ripping and tearing the earth, and when Tessa heard the splinter of wood as the stairs were crushed into the front porch, she plugged her fingers into her ears and clenched her eyes shut. But before she could inhale another breath, the noise stopped. Everything stopped. Tessa lowered her hands and opened her eyes. The bulldozer sat in the front yard, and the fog hovered around the tires. The young man stood gaping at the machine while Greg swung open the cab’s door.
“What in the hell is wrong with this thing?” he barked. “It drives like it’s drunk, and the engine is failing. I can’t even get the damn keys out of the ignition.”
Without provocation the engine turned over, and the bulldozer reversed. Greg worked the gears as it jerked backward across the street. In the middle of Dogwood Lane, the bulldozer’s engine died, blocking any traffic from being able to pass on either side. The young man ran to the machine.
“Greg, get out of the dozer. You know I have to report this.”
Greg climbed down and glared at the machine. The two men continued to argue in the street, and Tessa inched forward to survey the gaping hole created by the bulldozer’s blade. A front section of the porch was demolished, and two of the columns cracked, causing the roofline to sag.
