“I hoped I could have a group out there on Monday, but it might be the following week or even longer,” Charlie said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how far behind my guys are because of the flood.”
Tessa chewed her bottom lip. “Nothing sooner?” Could she live in a house for weeks without electricity? She hadn’t thought to check the plumbing. Did it still work?
“I don’t wanna make you any promises about an exact date. But . . .”
“But what?” Tessa asked when Charlie didn’t continue.
“A lot of guys are out of workbecauseof the flood. They’re scrambling around for money because their job sites are out of commission, especially the guys in the basin areas.”
Tessa smelled the lingering sweet scent of honeysuckle blooms being carried on the breeze. She thought of how Honeysuckle Hollow had come to the rescue of so many in need. “Do you think any of them would be willing to work on a run-down Victorian?”
“I think they’d jump at the opportunity for work. They have families to feed.”
Tessa thought of the weeds that were fighting for dominance of Honeysuckle Hollow’s garden. “Do you know a good landscaper? Someone who’s not afraid to tackle a yard that’s grown out of control?”
“I’ll call around. If anyone—landscaper or worker—is free today, I can talk them through the basics. If I find interested people, could you meet us at the house?”
“The sooner the better.”
Tessa stood on the cracked sidewalk in front of Honeysuckle Hollow while husband-and-wife landscaping team Porter and Sylvia Potts worked on the weedy front yard. They’d already removed the knee-high weeds and brambles, which were now piled in the back of their landscaping truck. The herringbone-patterned brick path leading up to the front door had been revealed. It needed leveling, and a few bricks poked vertically out of the ground as though they’d been slammed upward from beneath the earth.
Dr. Hamilton’s prize damask rose bushes, now pruned and no longer choked by weeds, would once again flourish and bloom. The heat-tolerant Bermuda grass had been overtaken by crabgrass, ragweed, and what looked like dry hay, but the Potts had cleared the whole yard. The bright-green spiky blades covering the lawn proved Bermuda was difficult to kill, and the yard looked less and less like a wasteland. In a couple of hours, the curb appeal of Honeysuckle Hollow would closer resemble the manicured yards on Dogwood Lane.
Charlie was easy to spot among the workers milling around inside. She wore a simple white tank top and a pair of worn jeans with her thick-soled work boots. Her shiny
black hair, pulled back into a smooth ponytail, highlighted her slender neck. She could have easily been mistaken for a performer about to execute a knockout dance routine to “She Works Hard for the Money.” What impressed Tessa the most was that even though Charlie was unquestionably attractive, the others respected her and listened to her guidance and directions, rather than acting like a beautiful woman couldn’t be a competent leader and contractor.
Charlie and the workers walked through the different rooms while she explained what needed to be addressed first. Tessa followed behind them, nodding and tossing in her opinions where relevant. Her cell phone rang, and she walked out of the kitchen to answer it so Charlie could continue the tour without disturbance. But when Tessa saw that Paul was calling, she silenced the call. A minute later, the voice mail alert dinged. An irritating combination of hope and angst tangled in her stomach. Distant thunder rumbled. A gust of wind buffeted the tarp covering the French doors, rippling the fabric like a sail.
Tessa wanted to play the voice mail, and her ears grew hot. Another burst of wind slammed against the tarp and ripped the tape away from the doorframe, snapping the thick fabric against Tessa’s legs. She flinched and backed away, leaning over to rub her calves. A slam reverberated upstairs, and something banged against a wall over and over again like a screen door butting against a house during strong winds. Tessa grabbed the tarp and tried to adhere the tape to the doorframe again. Charlie and the crew reentered the kitchen.
“We’ll get it,” Charlie said, motioning for one of the men to help her. “What’s that banging?”
Tessa glanced at the ceiling. “I’ll check it out.”
The stairs creaked as Tessa ascended them. The repeated thumping grew louder, and Tessa slowed. A door in the hallway had swung open, and the doorknob bounced against the wall. Tessa stood in the open doorway that revealed a set of stairs leading to the attic. A steady rush of air billowed down the staircase, and Tessa stood rooted at the bottom. Charlie had inspected the attic days ago, but Tessa hadn’t gone with her.
“I don’t like creepy attics,” she said to no one. “It goes beyond my better judgment to go up these stairs.” But curiosity pushed one foot in front of the other, and she grabbed the handrail. “Please don’t be creepy. Please don’t be creepy.”
Tessa exhaled in relief once she reached the top. Other than the musty scent of dust and aging keepsakes and a few dangling cobwebs, the attic was ordinary and emptier than she’d expected. Air circled around the space and whipped dust around Tessa’s feet.
One round window against the far wall allowed in a circle of light that shone a muted sunbeam onto an antique steamer trunk. The window wasn’t damaged, so where was the breeze coming from? Thunder rumbled again, and gray clouds lumbered across the faded denim-blue sky.
She unlatched the trunk. Stacked inside were hardback novels and photo albums. She grabbed one of the albums and sat on the floor. Written in calligraphy on the inside cover were the wordsWedding Day, 1957. After looking at the first few photographs, Tessa realized the wedding had taken place in Honeysuckle Hollow’s backyard garden.
Tessa flipped through the pages and smiled at the happiness that radiated from the fading pictures and warmed her fingertips, traveling up her arms to her heart. A photograph adhered to the bottom of the next page captured two young men, who had to be brothers, and one young girl, standing with her hands clasped together in front of her, smiling shyly at the camera and staring at Tessa with her dark almond-shaped eyes. Tessa lifted the book closer to her face.Crazy Kate.
Rain slapped against the round window. The sounds of laughter erupted from the backyard. Tessa stood and peered out the window. Rain fell from the sky, and she squinted down at the yard. Were people outside? Tessa didn’t see anyone, but what she did see trapped her breath halfway up her throat.
Watery outlines of people gathered in the cloudy light of the backyard, and their muffled faraway voices rose up to meet her. Three misty people stood near the oak tree. Two of them held hands and looked at each other while the third person held an open book in his hands. A group of guests sat facing the couple.A wedding?Thunder disturbed the silence. The ghostly group looked up, and then they scattered, holding their hands over their heads and running for the house. Most of the guests disappeared, leaving only a few standing in the yard, staring up at the rain. Tessa heard their joyous laughter.
The storm clouds split apart, and thick beams of sunlight filled the yard. The watery gathering was gone. Tessa closed her eyes. When she opened them, the rain had stopped, and the backyard was empty. She returned the photo album to the trunk, allowing her hand to linger on the cover for a few moments. “Am I totally losing it? Or . . .” She glanced around the attic. “Honeysuckle Hollow, are you trying to tell me something?”
Chapter 18
Blackberry Cobbler
Tessaflinchedwhenhercell phone rang in her pocket.Paul. She squeezed the phone in her hand, desperately wanting to answer it, but she was afraid of what he might say. Her mind instantly made up elaborate possibilities, such as Paul saying,That was Monica, my perfect not-for-long-ex-fiancée. She loves willy-nilly living, and I’m leaving immediately so that we can get on with our perfect lives. Good luck in the run-down house.
