5. Elijah
“Ididn’t need your help,” Andie states as soon as we’re alone. Both Mrs. McGinley and Otto fled the moment he’d handed over the deed to Edna’s house, probably because the tension between us is unbearable.
Even for me.
“Sure you didn’t.” I head into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee while Andie follows me, the deed still clutched in her manicured hand.
“You had no right to step in like that,” she continues.
“Actually, I had every right because, while you were living your best life out in New York, I was here, dealing with your mother trying to get her gold-digging fingers on everything your gran owned. I was the one who threatened to call the cops on her after I showed up and found that she’d physically assaulted Edna.”
Anger burns hot in my veins, and I slam the mug down on the counter a bit harder than I should have. Andie jumps, but I don’t let up. “And it was me who helped Edna bandage the cut on her head, left behind by the fact that your mother threw a dinner plate at her head.” Which honestly makes the fact that Edna chose those to leave even more amusing.
The color drains from Andie’s face. “She did what?” Crimson returns, painting her cheeks a deep shade of red. Why does it make her even more attractive?
“Oh yes, Andie,” I continue. “Your gran has been dealing with assaults from your mother for the last eighteen months.”
“I didn’t know.”
“How could you have known? You were never here. Tell me, did you even bother to check in on your gran? Did you even think of asking her about what was going on in her life? Or was it all about the glamour of your own?”
Andie’s glare turns even more murderous. “As I told you, Mr. Breeth, my relationship with my gran is none of your business. And as far as my mother goes, I haven’t seen or talked to Rebecca in a decade. I didn’t know she was harassing my gran, or I would have handled it.”
“How would you have handled it?” I demand.
“It’s none of your business.”
“It is my business,” I reply. “Because you and I both know we haven’t seen the last of her.”
“That’s not your concern.”
“It is since my name is on the deed for this house.” I take a step closer. “I will never let Rebecca get her hands on this place.”
Andie takes a step closer and tilts her head up to glare at me. “Then it seems we finally agree on something, Mr. Breeth. Because I won’t let my mother get a single thing my gran owned aside from the dinner plates she was left in the will.”
I stare down at Andie, noting the shades of gold in her emerald eyes. Had I seen those before? Her lips are painted a deep red, her strong jaw stubbornly set. Something between us shifts, and I force myself to take a step back as the image of me slamming my mouth onto hers assaults me.
No.
Hard no.
Absolutely not.
“Good. Then we’re in agreement.”
“Fine.” Andie moves away from me and pours herself a cup of coffee. “Now, on to the reason my gran thought it necessary to add you to the deed. I can have Otto draw up a power of attorney so you don’t have to deal with the sale. I will, of course, give you fifty percent of the profits.”
“Excuse me?” Still captivated by the sight of her, I’m only half listening. “What did you just say?”
She turns to face me and leans back against the counter. “I will handle the sale of the house. It’s one of the reasons I’m still here.”
“You want to sell it?” Knowing what I do about her, why does it surprise me that she doesn’t want to keep the house?
She narrows her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I? My life is in New York. It doesn’t make sense to hang onto a house here when any reason I ever had for returning is gone.”
“You cannot sell this house.”
Andie sets her cup aside and crosses her arms. “Yes, I can.”
“No. I own half of it, and I’m not going to allow it.”
“Mr. Breeth?—”
“I’ll buy you out of it then. We can have it appraised, and I’ll pay you half of the value.”
She stares at me for a few moments, likely contemplating my offer. “There’s no way you have that kind of money.”
Now, it’s my turn to be annoyed. “Why is that?” I question. “Because I was in the military? Because I don’t drive a ridiculously expensive car or wear thousand-dollar suits? Tell me, Miss Montgomery…why is it that you think I can’t afford this place?”
“I won’t go down on the price,” she says. “Whatever it’s appraised at, that’s the value we go with.”
“Fine.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a business card then slam it on the counter. “Call me when you’ve ordered the appraisal. I’ll pay for half of that too.” Without looking back, I march toward the door and slam it behind me.
* * *
With a brand-new, albeit empty, vase in one hand, I knock on Edna’s door. Since she refuses store-bought flowers, this is the only thing she’ll allow me to get her on Valentine’s Day. I even tried chocolate last year, and she’d told me that I didn’t need to fuss over an old woman.
I’d laughed and insisted that even grumpy old ladies needed something on Valentine’s Day. That’s when she’d conceded and agreed that she could always use more vases for flowers. So, here I stand, crystal vase in hand, a green ribbon tied around it.
Edna pulls the door open and smiles widely at me. Her silver hair is braided over her shoulder, and she’s wearing a bright blue dress, a black shawl around her shoulders. “You clean up nice,” she says with a laugh as I offer her the vase. Her eyes light up, her expression complete delight over the gift.
Finally. A winner.
“You look beautiful,” I say, leaning in to kiss her wrinkled cheek.
“I still don’t know why you insisted we get all dressed up,” she says as she carries the vase into her kitchen. Stooped over just slightly, her movements are getting slower, and it worries me. Is she eating like she’s supposed to?
“Because everyone deserves to get dressed up,” I tell her as I step into the kitchen. “This looks delicious.” I survey the pot roast covered in gravy, sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, as well as the fresh rolls and platter of cookies.
“Well, it’s not every day an old woman gets a date on Valentine’s Day.”
I laugh.
“Now, you really should be out on a date. You’re not getting any younger.”
“I’m in my prime,” I argue as I pluck a carrot from the pan and stick it into my mouth. “Besides, I’m waiting for the right one.”
She laughs. “I can appreciate that. You know, my Charlie was the best thing that ever happened to me.” As they always do when she speaks of her late husband, her eyes mist. It hurts me to know she still grieves, but it’s also refreshing. Gives me hope that maybe one day—when I’m ready—I’ll find someone who will love me as much as she loved her Charlie.
“You’ve told me that a time or two,” I say then wink. “So. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. You go sit.”
“No. You go sit. You cooked.” I take her by the arm and guide her to the table. After pulling her chair out, I help her sit and scoot her toward the table. “I will serve.”
“Only because I’m tired,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
I swallow hard, trying to decide how much to press. The last thing I want to do is ruin her Valentine’s Day, but I know she needs help. She’s just too stubborn to admit it. I pull down two dinner plates then pile food on them before carrying them to the table.
After they’re served, I put the basket of rolls in the center then retrieve the bottle of cold, sparkling juice from the fridge. As soon as I’ve filled our glasses, I take a seat across from her and reach out to take both of her hands.
They’re so slender in mine, her skin so pale.
“Thank You, God, for the food on our table. Please forgive us our transgressions and bless this meal we are about to eat. In Your name we pray, amen.”
“Amen,” Edna says and plucks a roll from the basket.
“Did you not get enough sleep?” I ask as I smear some butter on my roll. I take a bite, the delicate flavor of Edna’s rolls far surpassing anything I could have picked up from a restaurant on the way here. Which is what I offered to do and nearly got smacked for my efforts.
“Late-night phone call,” she replies.
Which I know means early morning. Likely sometime around two or three. “Rebecca?”
She sighs. “That girl just doesn’t understand what it takes to survive on your own. I don’t understand how I failed so badly in raising her.”
“You didn’t,” I reply.
“I had to have failed somehow. Charlie and I were good to her. We gave her everything she’d ever wanted.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that is likely what led to Rebecca’s spoiled attitude. “All you have to do is say the word. I can handle it for you.”
Edna chuckles softly. “No, it will be fine. She’s harmless. Just lonely.”
Lonely only because her latest fiancé left her for greener pastures after she’d cheated on him. It’s all self-inflicted, which means I have no pity. Lance would tell me that prickly people need grace too, but sometimes you have to avoid them to escape getting skewered by the thorns.
He’s a better man than me, that’s for sure.
“All you have to do is ask,” I tell Edna. “And I will make sure she doesn’t bother you ever again.”
Edna doesn’t respond, just takes a small bite of her roast. “Did I tell you that Andie called me earlier?”
“No, you didn’t,” I say as I take another bite. Andie is Edna’s pride and joy. The granddaughter who left Hope Springs for the bright, shiny lights of New York. While Edna does nothing but speak highly of Andie, I align her with her mother. Both women abandoned Edna as soon as they’d drained everything they wanted out of her. And to me, that does not deserve such high praise.
“She told me that she got a small boutique in New Jersey to pick up her line of clothes! Isn’t that wonderful! She’s been working so hard. I wish that girl would slow down now and then. But she’s always been a worker. When she was sixteen, she had two jobs. One at the hardware store—Felix always treated her good—and the other at the pharmacy. I hardly saw her. She’d been so focused on saving money so she could see the world. I’m glad she’s seen more of it than this tiny town.” But as she says it, her tone softens, betraying the sadness I know she feels without actual family around.
I can be here. I can spend time with her. But at the end of the day, I’m not blood. She didn’t watch me grow up.
Reaching over, I touch her hand. “If you want, we can drive out to New York and visit her.”
Edna’s face lights up. “Really?” But as excited as she is, it fades within a few seconds. “No, I can’t bother her. She has so much going on.”
“Edna, she’s your granddaughter. She can take time to see you. Especially if you’re driving out there.”
She smiles softly and shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. How is your roast?”
With the subject change, I know she’s done talking about this. But even as I smile and engage in light conversation, my mind is still on the fact that Andie Montgomery has managed to make her gran feel so unwelcome that she doesn’t even feel like she can drive out and visit her.
What type of person treats their family that way?
* * *
That wasthe last Valentine’s Day I spent with Edna.
We never got the chance to drive to New York, and the more I think about it, the more grateful I am. After meeting Andie, I can’t imagine she would have made her gran feel overly welcome, and it would have led to an argument because I wouldn’t have been able to keep my mouth shut.
I take a drink of water then pluck another fry from my plate.
“You doing okay?” Lilly asks as she offers me a refill.
“Yeah. It’s been a day.”
“The will reading,” she says softly then slides into the booth across from me. Since it’s past lunch but not quite dinner, the place is slow. It’s honestly my favorite time to be here. Talking to people I don’t know is not a favorite pastime of mine.
I’m better around a computer.
Machines, I understand. People? Not so much.
“How did it go?” she asks.
“It could have gone better,” I reply, thinking of Rebecca’s outburst.
“How is Andie handling things?”
Lilly simply saying the name brings that image of Andie staring up at me back to mind. I shove it back down. Uninterested. That’s what I am. The woman is toxic. “Fine. I think. From what I understand, they didn’t have an overly close relationship.”
Lilly snorts. “Seriously? Andie and her gran were inseparable her entire childhood. Even before her mother abandoned her. I’m honestly surprised that Andie hasn’t broken down. I don’t think I’ve seen her cry at all.”
“Broken down?” Now it’s my turn to snort. “Andie doesn’t strike me as the type of person who feels very deeply.”
As usual, Lilly is unoffended. She simply smiles and shakes her head. “Elijah Breeth, don’t you think it’s possible that computer of yours can’t tell you everything there is to know about a person?”
The bell dings overhead, so I glance up just in time to see Rebecca stroll in on a pair of heels that might as well be stilts. She’s changed out of what I would call a funeral dress, swapping it for tight jeans and a black t-shirt, and has ditched the hat for a long braid.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Lilly mutters then pushes out of the booth and crosses the diner. “Mrs. Montgomery, nice to see you.”
“You’re the hardware store owner’s stepdaughter,” she says, tone disinterested. “You ran around with Andrea.”
“Yes. Felix is my father.” Lilly’s tone is friendly, but her expression is ice. Cold enough that, even though I’m a significant distance away, I can see it. “Would you like a table?”
“Yes, I—” She scans the diner, her greedy gaze finding me. “Never mind, I think I’ll join my mother’s friend. After all, we’re both suffering a loss and could likely use some company.” Without waiting for an invitation, she crosses over on her stilts and slides in across from me.
Behind her, Lilly mouths “Sorry!”then heads for the kitchen, likely to tell her husband that a gold-digging hurricane just blew into town.
“I didn’t invite you to sit here,” I tell her.
She leans in, the front of her shirt dipping to show off cleavage that’s won her more divorce settlements than should be legally allowed. “We got off on the wrong foot.”
“Which time?” I ask.
Rebecca pouts and sits back. “You don’t like me.”
I’m thrown back to the parking lot of the church when Andie said that same thing. This time, I can’t even claim that I don’t know her. “You’re perceptive.”
“So, what can I get you to drink, Rebecca?” Lilly asks. Alex stands behind the bar now, having slipped from the kitchen to watch the show. His expression is one of anger, and he watches the woman across from me like a hawk.
“Whatever he’s having,” she says, gesturing to my cup.
“You mean water?” I ask.
She scrunches her nose. “Water? I thought it was vodka.”
“I don’t drink,” I reply cooly.
“Fine. Whatever. Water.” She waves Lilly off like she doesn’t matter.
I take another bite of my burger but lose my appetite the second she plucks a fry from my plate. “What do you want, Rebecca?”
“You seem like a practical man. Strong. Caring.” She bites the fry in half then sticks the uneaten side on my plate. “Why is it you took such an interest in my mother?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“It is when you took off with my inheritance.”
“Your inheritance?” I laugh. “If it were up to me, Edna wouldn’t even have left you the dinner plates.”
She leans in once again, her gaze darkening. “You should think better of toying with me, boy. I eat men like you for breakfast.”
“I’m sure you’ve had your fill,” I tell her as I slide out of the booth. “But I can guarantee you have never met a man like me. Have the evening you deserve, Rebecca. I truly hope to never see you again.”
“Leaving so soon?” Lilly asks as she meets me by the door.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out enough cash to cover my food and a generous tip then offer it to her. She doesn’t bother counting it, just shoves it in her apron.
“Does Andie know she’s in town?” Lilly asks.
“Since Rebecca attended the will reading, I’d say so.”
Lilly shakes her head. “That woman is a stain on this town. And I don’t say that lightly. I know we’re supposed to love our enemies, but?—”
“People like her make it hard. You going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not my first run-in with Rebecca, and I’m sure it won’t be my last.”
“Great. See you tomorrow.” I slip out onto the street and head for my car. I’d nearly driven the truck here, but since Rebecca would have spotted that a million miles away, I’m grateful I didn’t. Then again, a lot of good it did me as she found me anyway.
As I turn toward the office, my phone rings. “What’s up?”
“I need you down at the library,” Lance says through the car speakers.
“Everything okay?”
“There was a break-in.”