Stormy Surrender

Pushing through the door, Marti discovered she was once more alone with Deborah. And the woman was just as welcoming as she was before. In fact, Marti mused, everyone but Joey had been really warm and inviting. Or maybe it was just the men who were so difficult. Luckily, she was married so she wouldn’t have to find out. It seemed like the dating pool for the sleepy little town was pretty shallow.

“Hey, gurl,” Deborah called when she saw Marti enter the office. “So, did you find anything you might like to look at?”

Marti beamed. “There is one that I am dying to see. Can we go look at Dogwood Lane?”

Tilting her head to the side, Deborah looked at Marti. “You do know that house needs a lot of work, right?”

Smiling, Marti nodded her head enthusiastically. “I want to keep busy. I want to make a place my own. And remodeling a big old southern home is my dream.”

Deborah opened her mouth to talk to her once more, but decided that words alone were simply not going to sway Marti. She’d take her to the house and let her see from there. That house had been on the market for over five years. In that time, windows had been broken, it had fallen into deeper decay, and the chimney had crumbled some in the back. The porch was starting to resemble Swiss cheese. The plumbing was suspect. The electrical was worse. And though it had once been the glory of the street, maybe even the whole town, someone could easily make a case that it should be condemned. Shoot. She knew of at least one person who had. Joe would not be happy as long as that house continued to stand. But…he might get over it if someone brought it back from such a state disrepair.

They hopped in Deborah’s gray Honda Civic that she had parked out in front of the realty office. She locked the door behind them after flipping the sign explaining that she was out showing homes at the moment.

“People don’t mind?” Marti asked, gesturing to the closed sign.

“Nah,” she replied, waving her hand to dismiss that notion. “There really aren’t enough people around for it to matter. The town isn’t what it used to be.”

“Oh, well, when I saw that they were expanding the roads and building sidewalks…” Marti’s voice trailed off.

“This town had money that had to be used up. And that’s how they decided to spend it. I swear that someone read a marketing book on our town council and is applying the ‘fake it until you make it’ theory to town planning.” Deborah chuckled. She had pulled up in front of the house on Dogwood Lane. The property looked as forlorn and dilapidated as she remembered. She exited the vehicle, slammed the door, and watched Marti for a reaction.

The woman was completely enchanted. She was walking around and practically floating on air.

“You’ll need these,” Deborah said, passing her to keys. “Now be careful. There’s no one to sue if you get hurt.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. She had been in that house a hundred…maybe even a thousand times. It was a happy home, filled with love and laughter. There were holiday parties that took up the entire first floor of the home in the winter and garden parties out back in the spring and summer. The ladies garden club used to meet there. So many happy memories. And then, Mrs. Stowe passed away. She was the heart and soul of that home. Mr. Stowe was the last in the line, since their son had died in the war and he was an only child in a line of only children. There was no one to pass the home onto. There was no one to maintain it when he gave up. And as the house fell into shambles, so did the rest of the town. It might be nice to see it restored to its former glory.

Before walking up the front steps, Deborah turned and looked at the house across the street, the Masters place. She knew from the truck in the driveway that Joe was home and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was watching this. She smiled reassuringly in the direction of his front windows just in case, then turned and headed into the house.

“Have you seen this place?” Marti was calling from upstairs. “I swear it’s the house that time forgot.” She went from room to room, opening doors with glass handles, squealing in delight at the claw footed tub she found in the upstairs bathroom.

Deborah watched as Marti flitted from one room to the next. She seemed to be counting aloud. “Wow. That’s a lot of windows to replace.” She looked about and counted aloud again. “A fireplace in every room?”

Minutes later she came skipping down the stairs, testing the railing as she walked. She smiled in approval. It was back to the kitchen she went. And as she walked she named the rooms as she imagined they would be designated. There were five bedrooms upstairs, but only one bathroom. There was one full bath on the main floor that was a Jack and Jill bathroom shared between anyone on the main floor and the master bedroom. She studied that room again.

“Honestly, I think I would make this a study with the ability to become a guest room. Or…,” she glanced around, “maybe I would install a powder room over here under the stairs.”

The wallpaper was peeling off the walls. The ceiling was crumbling down in chunks. There were gaps in the wall where plaster had once been, but now not even a fine powder residue on the floor remained. There was no kitchen to speak of…no modern appliances, a few cabinets, one small section of counter, and a sink that she had no desire to salvage. The kitchen was sunny and bright in the afternoon sun. And even though the garden was ridiculously overgrown, Marti could picture it…wild flowers and herbs, vegetables, and fruit trees. It could be magnificent. Plenty of space for an in ground pool.

Sitting on the back porch with her knees drawn up to her chin, her arms wrapped around them, rocking as she dreamed, Marti knew she had to have this house. She could see it. The vision was as real to her as the iPhone she held in her hand as she made notes and snapped pictures.

“What is the listing price?” Marti asked as she glanced at Deborah.

“This is a bank owned property. I think they had it listed for thirty thousand dollars.” She stopped speaking then and watched for a reaction.

“Hmmm. I know it doesn’t sound like a lot, but it is still a bit steep given that I am essentially paying for a lot. I practically have to demolish the house and start fresh. It would probably be cheaper.” She looked over the notes she had taken. “What if I put in an offer for $19, 900? How long would it take to hear?”

“Marti, this is a small town. Let’s go over to the bank right now if you’re serious and start negotiations.” She motioned for Marti to follow and they belted themselves into the car and drove around the corner. There it was…the bank.

As soon as Marti was introduced to the bank manager, negotiations began in earnest and an agreement was quickly reached. For the price of $21,300, the house was hers. Like a true professional, Marti hid well that she knew Blaine had paid more for her vehicle than she had just paid for the house. And she tried not to let buyers remorse set in as she wondered where to begin.

While she was still at the bank, she called Blaine. They set up an account there in her name and money was electronically transferred. For all practical purposes, the house was hers. Just hers. And she had asked Blaine about that. She had walked out the big double wooden bank doors and down the granite steps so she could pace on the sidewalk while she talked to him on the cell phone. She told herself it was because the reception was better that way, but really, she wanted the privacy. For some reason, Blaine was telling her to put the house in her name and to open the account in only her name and even though she was used to being alone…she was suddenly feeling very overwhelmed, a little lost, and seriously confused. Since when was anything in her name, let alone just her name?

“Well, I’m not there to sign off on papers now, am I?” Blaine’s tone was clipped. He was clearly agitated. “I have a surgery in an hour and you want my attention on a house, on a move? Martha, I can’t do it. You have to start handling things by yourself once in a while. You are a big girl.”

It was his condescending attitude that struck a nerve. She had failed to glance around to see who was in ear shot after that remark. “I’ll have you know that I have been handling every aspect of our life for as long as we’ve been together…maybe longer. I am perfectly capable. I’m simply unaccustomed to this…generosity you are showing me. What aren’t you telling me, Blaine?” She paused and stood still suddenly. “When are you coming?”

Refusing to answer, Blaine side stepped the question. “We’ll have to talk later. I have to see another patient before I head over to the hospital.” And with that, he cut her off.

Marti was fuming. She looked at the now black screen and shook in anger. “Oh, you pompous, over bearing pig of a man!” She shouted at the phone. She never would have had the courage to say what she really thought to Blaine himself. And when she spun around once more, she ran smack into Joe, who was rounding the corner to climb the steps into the bank. “And now you!” She snapped.

Tiny as she was, Marti had simply bounced off his chest. Her head barely reached his heart. And he was confident that he could stand behind her and rest his chin on the top of her head without craning at all. He smirked at the thought. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing?” He asked smartly. “You did run into me.” And he crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for an apology that would never come.

Tears were hot in Marti’s eyes when she looked up at him. Apologize. What was she sorry for? At the moment, she was sorry that she had ever married Blaine, that she had come to this strange town that might as well be a foreign country…and that she had ever laid eyes on Joey Masters. She turned on her heels to hide her eyes, swiped at them as she sprinted up the steps and left Joey far behind her to wonder what had upset her so.

The entire transaction was completed in less than an hour. And though Marti had been so upbeat and positive when she first saw the home, it was beginning to feel like the equivalent of the Titanic to her…this house of dreams that she was going to sink all this money into, but would never house the life she had imagined. Suddenly a line from Under the Tuscan Sun came to mind. She, too, had bought a house for a life she didn’t have. Marti sighed. She was no Diane Lane. And this…this was not Italy. But the possibility that she was getting a divorce seemed suddenly very real to her.

Walking back to Hope House, Marti mused that she had nothing to complain about. She had already acquired everything she wanted when she was dreaming back in Vermont. She had her warmer climate, her change of scenery. She had her big old fixer upper, with plenty of money in the bank to restore it. And she’d only been in town for a day. She wrapped her arms around her body as she trudged to the front door.

Keely was on the phone and waved in greeting as she passed. Marti gave a slight nod and headed up to her room. She walked to the bed and threw herself down. For a moment she considered having a good cry. She had every right to. Yet the tears that accumulated simply did not have enough force behind them to spill down her cheeks. So she sniffled and sat up. Why should she cry? Really? She was in an amazing room. She came back to a nice warm fire. And as she assessed her surroundings further and prepared to count her blessings, there was a gentle knock on her door.

As the door slowly opened, Keely peeked her head in. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything for dinner. I don’t really serve dinner, but I thought you might join me…or I might join you, since we’re the only two single people in all of Hope House.” She raised her arms and dropped them at her side.

With someone as cheery as Keely around, it wasn’t difficult for Marti to manage a smile. “You know what? That would be nice. Want help in the kitchen?” And with that, she hung her coat up in the closet and walked back out of the room with her arm looped through Keely’s before the woman could protest.

As he lay on the couch with his eyes closed, Joe contemplated how he was going to spend his night. It was a half hour drive to Charlotte, North Carolina from New Hope. And although there was a Bojangles a mere fifteen minutes away, Joe was tempted to go eat at one in Charlotte instead. He knew that if he did, there was a decent chance that he could find one of the girls from his rotation to help him welcome in the new year. That…was the beauty of being single. He was free to sleep with whomever he chose. He could drink, if he felt like it, stay over, if he was invited, and leave when he was ready. He had no one to ask permission, no one to warn that he wouldn’t be home. Yup. Joe was his own man. And it felt good…when it didn’t feel lonely. Of course, he only felt lonely if he thought about it, or if he had a fleeting moment where he longed for more.

Sitting up on the couch, he rubbed his eyes. He had tried that. Joe had tried having more. He thought he even had found the girl to have this more with. The problem, it turned out, was that she was just a girl. She was too young. And now he hadn’t seen her in years. Three years. The same number of years he was into his ten year plan. That was no coincidence. That was what happened when he lost it all and moved home. He had taken a risk. It hadn’t paid off. He had been punished.

Standing, he walked over to the front window. On top of the dilapidated For Sale sign in the yard across the street was now a Sold magnet. Well, that cinched it. He closed the blinds and walked away. Must be Marti was moving in. The question was simply…when.

Just being in the kitchen made Marti feel better, as indicated by the satisfied sigh she released when she walked in. Keely noticed. It didn’t take her long to comment.

“Feeling better? I haven’t even poured the wine yet,” she joked as she walked over to the wine rack on the far wall of the kitchen. “What do you prefer…white or red?” She was studying the labels as she spoke.

Smiling, Marti responded, “I really don’t care the color as long as it’s sweet. What do you have that will fit that bill?” And she leaned calmly against the work table in the center of the room. Then, since she had decided to eat her sorrow and not worry about what was going on with Blaine until much later, she spoke the first thought that crossed her mind. “I don’t suppose you have any of that chocolate cake left?”

Patting her belly self-consciously and looking a bit embarrassed. “I’m afraid not,” she admitted. Then she walked briskly over to the fridge and flung the door open. “Ah, but I do have homemade cheesecake.” She pulled out the spring form pan and showed Marti the contents.

“That’s a cheesecake, all right,” Marti responded.

“And I know just the wine,” Keely said, after setting the dessert on the table. She triumphantly pulled a Moscato from the rack and walked back to the table. Glancing back and forth between the two items, she frowned. “Well, this isn’t much of a dinner. What else should we have?”

They were thick into preparing fresh grilled cheese sandwiches on more of Keely’s homemade bread when the kitchen door opened and a head peeked through. It was Joe. He smiled when Keely greeted him.

“Doll baby!” She shouted, walking over to him with her arms outstretched for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d make sure the furnace was working, since I think I’m going to Charlotte for the night and I’ll probably stay over.” He was full of smiles and charm for Keely, but when he glanced over at Marti, now standing ramrod straight beside the table, his smile faltered. “I thought you said you’d be in your room,” Joe said with a scowl.

It was a force of habit that made Marti’s hands fly to her hips in a display of her displeasure. And it was also force of habit that made her respond so sharply to him. “Yeah, well I thought you were going to Bojangles.”

Keely looked back and forth between them, watching the stand off. Neither side was going to back down. That was obvious, so she simply shrugged and decided to diffuse the situation. “Joe, care to join us for dinner?”

Marti stiffened. Joe saw it and smiled. Bojangles would always be there, but the chance to irritate Marti might not. It was a simple choice. “I’d love to.” And with that, Keely started buttering more bread.

“One or two?” She asked, well aware of Joe’s ability to put away large quantities of food.

“Well, I’m not sure I’ll have had my fill if I just have one. I’ll be done so quickly. Better make it two. I do have quite the appetite.” He winked at Keely. And with Marti, he simply met her stare, waited for a reaction.

Say something or let it go? Though she would never be able to prove it in a court of law, Marti was confident that Joe wasn’t just talking about food here. He seemed to be implying that he was not the kind of man to settle down. So what? She would never be interested in anyone like him anyway. He was so…frustrating. “Oh, why stop at two? Why not three?” She bit her lip almost as soon as the words escaped the safety of her mouth.

Staring at that lip, Joe smiled. “Babe, I thought you’d never offer.” And he chuckled.

Marti looked at Keely who was clearly confused at what was going on between them. She sighed. “I’m not hungry enough for this.” And she headed out the kitchen back up to her room. It wouldn’t kill her to miss a meal. Or, it wouldn’t have in the past. Ever since the miscarriage, she had been dropping weight like it was her job. When she had her follow up with her doctor, he had suggested that she might want to try anti-depressants. That was his take on the situation, but Marti had never been one to turn to pharmaceuticals to cure what ailed her. She decided to tough it out. She decided to make the changes she needed to find that elusive happiness once more. And that’s how she ended up here, in New Hope, bickering constantly with a man, who was for all intents and purposes, a stranger. It wasn’t like her one bit. And she didn’t like who she was around him.

Walking into the bathroom, Marti decided that she was going to soak it all away. The water could soothe her, make everything all better. And soon she was once again soaking in the tub.

“What was that?” Keely asked. “Joe Masters, you may be hot as hell, but you are a complete ass sometimes. Why are you chasing off my guests?” Her hands were on her hips. “No cheesecake for you.” She looked at her massive mid-section. “No cheesecake for me, either. Marti was the only one among us who could have stood to gain a few pounds.”

Joe paused to think. It wasn’t like him to goad anyone and yet he found that pissing off Marti had practically become a sport for him and he’d only known her for a day. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Really I don’t.” He watched as Keely plated his first grilled cheese.

“Squares or triangles?” She asked as she hovered over the sandwich with a knife, poised and ready to make the cut.

Smiling, Joe realized she couldn’t be that angry with him. That was good because he was getting angrier by the minute at himself. He really should apologize.

“Be nice to her, Joe.” Keely gave him a reprimanding look. “She’s moving here. You’re going to be seeing her around. And I think that she’s hurting. The last thing she needs is for you to cause her any more pain.”

Joe chuckled. “I’ll be nice to her.”

Something about his look when he said that must have worried Keely because she narrowed her eyes at him. “Not that nice. I know all about you. I’ve heard the stories. You are the last thing that poor woman needs in her life.”

Joe feigned innocence while taking a bite of his sandwich. Damn that was good. Marti shouldn’t miss out on that. He thought about the cheesecake. She shouldn’t miss out on any of it. “Why don’t you make her a tray and I’ll bring it up to her and apologize?”

Studying him, she saw no sign of guile. In fact, he looked as though he might genuinely be sorry. “Okay. Just be nice.”

Half an hour later, Joe was wandering up the stairs carrying a tray in one hand and the chilled bottle of wine in the other. Those years of being a server at some of the nicer restaurants in Charlotte had finally paid off. In his mind, he practiced what to say. Part of him hoped that the minute he saw her, the words would simply come to him. And yet history suggested that would not be the case. How many times had his way of doing things simply made the situation worse?

So, he knocked on the door and waited until her heard her voice in the distance allowing him access. And when he entered the room, he very nearly dropped the tray and the wine. His jaw had dropped for sure. Marti had her back to the door and she was pulling on a bathrobe. There was something about the subtle flair of her hips and her long graceful neck with damp tendrils of brown hair escaping her bun that made him want to wrap his arms around her and inhale her scent until it was imprinted on his mind.

She turned around with a smile on her face, a sure indication that she expected to see Keely. Instead, it was Joe with a tray from Keely. Still, it was Joe. And she hadn’t been completely clothed. And she was pretty sure that now she officially hated him. “You!” She all but spat.

What ever he had intended to say…that moment was lost. “You said come in!” He sputtered defensively. “I didn’t know!” He set the tray down on the floor by the fireplace and slowly backed up with his palms facing her as though he was in the company of a killer beast.

At that moment, Marti realized it really wasn’t his fault. There was no one to blame, but herself. And that…in all honesty…made it all the worse. She sighed. This man could bring out the worst in her. She sank down on the bed and he continued to back from the room. With a huge sigh, she spoke. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so angry with you. It’s probably not you at all. It’s probably just some personal stuff I’m dealing with and taking out on you.” She glanced at him with a bit of a smirk. “Of course, now that I bought a house, I’ll be here long enough to find out. It could still be you.” And she let out a laugh.

Marti had left Vermont to escape some of these feelings and to start the new year fresh. Being angry with Joey wasn’t any way to do that. She glanced at the tray and saw a huge slab of cheesecake. It was probably enough to feed three people. Or it was enough for her to share with him. “Joey, did you have any cheesecake?”

He looked down sheepishly. “Keely took away dessert because I was bad,” he said quietly. Then he met her eyes and she saw that they were twinkling with mischief and an amazing shade of pale blue rimmed in a dark Caribbean blue.

She shook her head to clear away that thought. “Care to join me?” She tightened her robe, pulled it shut around her neck, and then plopped herself down on the floor. Looking up at him, Marti gestured to a spot on the floor on the other side of the tray.

And because she might just never be this nice to him again and because Keely made some of the best cheesecake he had ever eaten, he decided to take her up on her offer. He sank down on the floor and smiled. She was already digging in to the cheesecake. He looked at her quizzically. “But you haven’t eaten dinner?”

Marti shrugged. “Haven’t you heard? Life is short. Eat dessert first.” And with that, she savored another bite from her fork.