Stormy Surrender

When Joe woke up New Year’s Day, it took him a minute to recognize his surroundings. He had a blanket over him. He was fully clothed, which was a bit disappointing, and there was a pillow under his head. He rolled to the side and realized he was on the floor of Marti’s room. “Damn it,” he mumbled.

This was the first year probably since he’d lost his virginity at the tender age of thirteen that he hadn’t had sex on New Year’s Eve. Of course look at how those other years had played out. Maybe it was time to try something new. This was new all right. He lay there trying to recall how he ended up there.

“You closed your eyes after we finished the wine,” Marti said with a laugh. She had already showered and was dressed for the day in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. “Do you need any ibuprofen? Or maybe a glass of water?”

She was brushing out her shoulder length mousy brown hair. And all Joe could think was that the color was all wrong for her. She should be blonde…or at the very least have some blonde highlights, maybe a couple of different shades. He shook his head to clear those thoughts. “No, I’m fine, actually.” He sat up and assessed how his head felt then shrugged. He was fine. This was also new for New Year’s Day.

“Well,” she said, “take your time waking up. I just need to find an electrician and a plumber.”

“It’s New Year’s Day,” Joe said, as though that was all the explanation she should need.

“I know. And?” She looked confused.

“And no one is going to be working today. I’m a contractor. While there are exceptions, traditionally speaking, skilled tradesmen like their alcohol.”

Her hands were on her hips. “And?”

That woman was thick and stubborn. She clearly refused to face facts. “Last night was a drinking holiday. Come on. Work with me…” He stared at her and willed her follow his line of thinking.

“So, you’re saying that no one will be working?” Marti paused while he nodded. “Well, I am. I will get as much done as I can. I need electrical and plumbing so I can move into my house.”

“Marti,” he began, as patiently as he could manage, “you need far more than that before you can move in.”

“Like what?” She truly believed that she would be able to inhabit the house just as soon as she had the basics.

He sighed. “Okay. Let’s go take a look. We’ll get a plan together and talk your project over.”

Marti smiled. She knew a contractor. This project was going to come together even more easily than she imagined. “Great.” She grabbed her coat from the closet, a notebook and pen from her suitcase, and followed him out the bedroom door.

It wasn’t until Joe made it to the front door that he realized his mistake. Keely was standing there frowning at him. He looked at Marti and made a suggestion. “What if I meet you at the house?” Joe could see that she was already so eager to be going back to her new home, her big exciting project that he doubted she would have had the patience to wait for him more than a millisecond anyway.

“Great!” She exclaimed. “Oh, do you need directions? I bought the house on Dogwood Lane.”

He shook his head. “No, I already knew that.”

She was partway out the door, but stopped and laughed. “Oh, small towns.” Then Marti skipped down the steps, hopped in her vehicle, and sped to her house just a couple miles away.

Joe was completely crestfallen. Yeah. It could be that this was a small town, or it could be that she lived directly across the road from him. He really didn’t need to go look at the house with her. He knew her house like the back of his hand. Once…nearly a lifetime ago…he had thought that he’d like to buy that same house. He had first noticed it on a visit to his father’s home one holiday. He had gone outside to smoke and been drawn to the old place. From that moment, he had dreamed of making it a home. He had even thought he might have found the girl to share that dream with. And when that dream died, and as the house fell apart before his eyes, not unlike his life, he had vowed to get rid of it. He wanted a fresh start.

The problem was that with his credit ruined, his fresh start, though in some ways free, came at a hefty price. His new beginning started when his father passed away and he inherited his father’s house in New Hope. He had stopped looking at that house with longing, stopped dreaming of a different life, and accepted the life he had. As he watched the Zen-like fusion taking place as the old place became nearly one with the yard, he comforted himself thinking that it was really too much work for any one person to do just to make it livable, and then later that it was too much house for one person to maintain. Then Marti showed up.

While he was lost in thought, Keely was busy shaking her head at him. He met her eyes. “What?” He asked confused.

“Is that your idea of an apology, Joe Masters? You say you’re sorry and then you weasel your way into staying the night. Poor Marti! This is all my fault. I made the mistake of telling you that she seemed sad and vulnerable. And you just swooped in like some bird of prey.” As agitated as she was, her voice rose and fell with emphasis. Her hands gestured wildly. And that may be part of what made Joe laugh…which only made her angrier. She had turned and was about to storm off to the kitchen when he stopped her.

“Wait.” It didn’t look like she was going to stop. “Please, wait.” He managed to somehow sound nearly sincere. He waited until she turned to face him. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Well, I don’t know what you kids call it these days,” she said all flustered.

“Keely, I’m telling you I didn’t have sex with Marti!” His voice showed his frustration. And even though it was early in the day, there were still people in the dining room who glanced their way at his pronouncement. He saw that, sighed, and lowered his voice. “We talked. I fell asleep, fully clothed, on the floor. She slept in the bed.” He scowled. “But it’s still your fault.”

“How is that my fault?” She asked.

“If your cheesecake wasn’t so rich and you didn’t insist on sending up that bottle of wine, I’d have gone home…or out…but not stayed here.” And with that, he stormed out of the entry way and headed out of the building.

Joe stomped down the steps muttering to himself. He was in no mood. First he was accused of sleeping with Marti. Why the hell would he ever sleep with Marti? She was nothing like his type. She was argumentative. She always had some smart remark. She had no sense of style. And the woman never seemed to know when she was in over her head. He opened the door to the truck, sat down heavily and tried to calm down for a few minutes before driving away. Actually, if he ignored her external flaws, she was his ideal woman. He started the truck, feeling even worse than before, slammed it into gear and sped down the gravel driveway towards home.

That was the worst part. Marti now lived just across from his home. How was he ever supposed to feel comfortable there again? Maybe this was the sign he needed to put his ten year plan on steroids and head out of this town before he ended up sucked in like his father was. He pulled up in front of the house and considered parking on the curb, but that felt stupid. What, he was going to start the truck again to move it across the road into his driveway. So he turned at the last minute into his own spot, and crossed the road.

Apparently she had been watching for him. She bounded over and started speaking in her typically fast Yankee way. It about made his head hurt trying to listen so fast. And since he was already out of sorts, he nearly snapped.

“I don’t know my neighbors yet!” She exclaimed. “Why don’t you just park in my driveway? I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

He sighed. They had been on the wrong foot since that misstep on the stairs landed her in his arms. That may actually have been the highlight because it all seemed to be going downhill from there. “That’s my house. I live there.” And he shoved his hands into his pockets as he tried to decipher the look on her face.

If there was anything that excited Marti about the house, it was the prospect of having her own space. Only…now she didn’t. And the reason she didn’t was because now she would always know that the most insufferable man on the face of the earth lived right across the road from her. Breathe. She told herself. Just breathe. Everything will be all right. Only based on the text message she had just received from Blaine, her life was not going to be all right for a good long time. She had headed outside to call him when Joey pulled up. That messed up that idea. In fact, that messed up all her ideas. Now she had to wonder what the text message meant.

Just thought you should know that I’ll be filing for divorce in the morning.

Ugh. He was always so formal, even in his text messages. There were never emoticons, although she would have loved a winky face at the end of that message. There were never any misspelled words, never any abbreviations. No, Blaine was not the kind to ever express that he was roflmao, let alone to experience it. He was uptight. He was miserable. And part of her considered that this might be the best way for them to part. The other part of her was terrified that she was lost and alone in a strange new world. While some aspects of New Hope were so wonderful and welcoming, there were aspects of the south in general that had her marveling that she hadn’t needed a passport to enter.

Now, she would have to cope with living across the road from the one man who managed to get under her skin. He could be infuriating, as exhibited by their interactions in the café. And at the same time, last night he had shown her a different side. He could be charming, but not in the way that made her want to shower after to wash away the slime. There was something honest about him. And that was a quality that she could treasure after so many years of dishonesty from the man she was married to. While marriage made Blaine her husband, she never called him that. In all the years that they had been together, he never felt like he was hers. That’s why she never called him that. With the text message, she was simply reminded that whatever tenuous hold she had on him, it might very well be coming to an end. And all she could do was sigh and press on.

“Okay then,” she said after expelling the longest sigh of her life. She turned on her heels and headed back into the house. She paused just as she was walking through the front door when she realized he wasn’t behind her. Looking over her shoulder at him she called, “Are you coming?”

Smiling, he walked across the lawn, and entered the house. It was tough being back in there. Joe had always imagined Finn in that space. He actually had to rub his chest; his heart hurt so much to think about it. He realized that Marti was watching him then. She was far too observant. He could almost hear the wheels turning as he moved to rub his jaw instead.

“Look,” he pointed out, as he motioned over his shoulder. “I think we can safely agree that the porch is a hazard. The whole thing needs to be replaced, right down to the sinking foundation. And it’s not just the porch foundation that’s sinking. The whole house needs to be leveled before you do anything.”

“Anything?” She asked, doubtful.

“Anything,” he assured her. “You need to get a foundation guy out here tomorrow. Don’t worry. I have a guy I trust. He’ll give you a fair price. He’ll come out here with some shovels, some excavating equipment and a truckload of cement piers.” He looked at her. She had a pen and paper in her hand, but she wasn’t writing anything down. “Are you going to take notes?”

Marti colored slightly. She was so focused on him, too focused on him. There was something about the confidence and ease with which he spoke about the house that was incredibly attractive. “Oh, right.” So she opened the notebook and began writing as he spoke.

They went room by room, and the assessment was far worse than she imagined. Some of the information he supplied confused her. How could he know without even looking that all the copper pipes needed to be replaced? How could he know that the carriage house in the back was sturdy and sound, but probably still should be updated with new doors, new wiring, and new windows? They hadn’t even stepped off the back porch.

“So, I have to do the foundation first?” Marti was starting to prioritize the list. “I swear, right now I’m starting to think that I should just demo this and start over. I’m just not sure that it’s cheaper.”

He was pulling at his chin. She loved the way his pale fingers scraped through his dark ginger goatee. And then she shook her head to try to focus again. “I mean…the list is long. The place has nice bones, but by the time we’re done, that will be the only original part left of the home.”

“We?” He asked, clearly imagining her husband being the other part of that pronoun.

“Yeah, you and me. I’d like to hire you to run this project. It’s bigger than I imagined.” She shrugged and brushed a few wisps of hair back from her face. “I know I don’t know you from Adam, but you are practically the only person I know here.” She tried to inhale and slow her breathing. She was suddenly feeling frantic and she hoped she was able to hide it from him. She laid the notebook and pen on the only remaining part of kitchen counter, stretched deliberately while she tried to calm her nerves. The last thing she needed was to scare him away. When she straightened, she had on her game face.

Walking over to him, she smiled. “Look. You can’t beat the commute.” He chuckled at that. “And with me being a neighbor and having to see me all the time, I know you aren’t going to screw me over.” His eyebrows rose. Clearly he didn’t expect her to throw around that expression. “You have already impressed me with your understanding of the scope of the project. And we’ve only discussed the basics, none of the design changes I’m hoping to make. We’re talking about a new roof, new windows, siding, porch, plumbing and electric.”

She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why don’t you work me up a quote for all the exterior work? Send the guy with the piers over here, and then we can start working on plumbing and electrical.”

Joe leaned against the wall. He studied her for a moment before speaking. “I can’t decide if you are courageous or crazy.”

She laughed then. It felt good…and unusual. Ah, but she could get used to doing that again. It felt like she was spring cleaning her soul. And the thought cheered her immensely. Maybe this move was just what she needed to get back to the woman she was supposed to be. Maybe, just maybe, this man who managed to get under her skin every few minutes was also the one who was stirring her, challenging her, helping awaken the dormant Marti lurking somewhere in this tired shell. With that, she let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t ready yet to let him go. Whatever it took, she’d have him working with her.

There were at least a few more questions that had to be asked before he could consider taking the job. There would have to be a good deal of profit to make this worth his while. Sure, there was chance that being constantly around that house would dull the pain…like he was creating a callous to protect his heart. There was, of course, the other possibility that the pain would get to him, and that he would finally crack. He thought of all those fights with Finn, all the holes in the wall that he to repair, the doors he had run his fist through. And he remembered her eyes laughing at him, reveling in his out of control emotions. Never again.

“So, what’s your budget for this project?” He asked seriously. “How much are you prepared to spend to make this your dream home?”

“Well, first of all, I think you should know that I fully intend to participate some in the remodel. I have experience. I’ve done this before.” She mirrored his posture and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest.

He bit the side of his cheek hard to keep from laughing at her. He had felt her hands when she fell into him at Hope House. He had studied her hands up close at the café. This woman was not accustomed to hard labor. “So, you can work a Paslode gun?”

It was obvious that it pained her to admit her shortcomings. “No, but I’m sure I could learn.” Her chin jutted out at the challenge.

“Oh, well you must be able to run a dual bevel compound sliding miter saw?” He looked her in the face. He knew that his eyes were dancing in excitement. And in return, he saw her form shrinking against the counter, defeated. He chuckled. “Well, since the bathroom and kitchen are more immediate needs, how well do you tile? Do you mix your own grout? Have you ever used leveler? Do you find it more challenging to lay tile in a diamond pattern or pinwheel?” He was stroking his chin as he walked closer. They were nearly toe to toe and he could tell it took all of her will to simply stand her ground. “Actually, you strike me as a travertine kind of woman, and we both know that is best laid in a basket weave.”

Marti sighed. “I’ve primed and painted. I have installed a toilet using an adjustable flange. I know how to measure. I…” She shrugged. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but this is my project house. And I want to be involved in the project. Let me work with you.” She looked down and kicked a rogue acorn that had found its way into the house. And then she mumbled under her breath so quietly that had he not been paying attention, he might just have missed it. “I’ve always wanted someone to do projects with.”

There was something truly sad about that admission. And because the callous around his heart had yet to form, his resolve crumbled. “Okay.” He beat himself up inside. What was he doing? This was a married woman. And he was in no place to be with anyone. He was his own little remodeling project and just like her house wasn’t ready for occupants, neither was his heart.

Her heart was thudding in her chest. Had he really just agreed to let her work with him? She was almost afraid to speak. He struck her as the kind of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to take back his word. So, she stared at him, quietly and patiently until he finally spoke to her.

“Let’s figure out what you want to do in here so that you can at least make yourself useful running to the store and bringing supplies.” He was scratching his head as though he already regretted the offer.

It was all she could do to keep from dancing around like a fool. So she spoke as calmly as she could manage, “I’m very good at shopping!”

Smirking, he responded. “I bet you are, princess. Yeah. I’m sure you are.”

Marti didn’t like that term or endearment. She was no princess. She was hard core. Hadn’t she just managed to move a thousand miles south so that she could start a new life. And didn’t it now seem that she was starting this new life and this new year…single? She closed her eyes and tried to hold back tears. It would do no good to cry now. She had much bigger projects to focus on. And quite honestly, the marriage had never held much of a role, front and center in her life. That’s why she filled her time with so much volunteering, with so much activity. It was never any good for her to have too much time to sit and think. Now…the past no longer mattered.

Flipping the page on the notebook, she addressed the task at hand. “So, let’s start here. What if we use slate on the kitchen, laundry room, and entry way floors?”

His smile was so disarming. And she couldn’t imagine for a moment what she had said to make him all but beam at her. It was rather unnerving.

“Slate, huh?” He asked looking about the room. She nodded. “I think slate is a nice choice.”

And with that, they had a deal, and the beginnings of a plan and a whole new life was in store for her.