8. Andie
The man just won’t quit.
Here he is. Cleaning up glass shards, looking even more furious than I am. I guess it’s a good thing he can’t stand me either. A mutual distaste for each other is far better than him trying to make friends when it will never happen.
As I’m picking up the larger glass shards and sticking them into a bucket, a truck pulls up in front of the house, Felix’s Hardware on the side in bold lettering. I can’t help my smile. Felix was always a surrogate father to me. Even before Lilly and her mother came to town.
Dressed in jeans, work boots, and a green plaid button-down, Felix steps out of the truck and heads up the steps to the porch. I pull open the door with a grin.
“Look at what the cat drug in,” I say.
He chuckles and pulls me in for a big hug. “I am trying not to be upset that you haven’t come by to see me.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit busy.” Releasing him, I gesture to the mess.
He surveys it, anger on his aging face. Until he sees the man who just keeps turning up like a bad penny. “Elijah,” he greets.
“Felix. Good to see you.”
“You too. This is—” He removes his baseball cap and runs a hand through his graying hair. “I am so sorry this happened.”
“Thanks. I’m sure the sheriff will get to the bottom of it.” Since the evidence doesn’t fit Rebecca as the one behind it, I’ve let it go…for now. She could have still hired someone, and even if they can’t figure it out, I’m already planning what I’ll say to my mother the next time I see her.
Especially since Gran’s house and the library being targeted on the same day would have been one massive coincidence if Rebecca wasn’t involved.
“Well, we’ll get you fixed up in the meantime,” Felix says. “Alex is headed over. He’s got two sheets of plywood in the back of the truck. Once we get it measured for a new window, I’ll get you boarded up. It will be dark in here but safe.”
“You should stay at the BB,” Elijah says as he dumps a dustpan of glass into a bucket.
“I’m not leaving,” I reply, not even bothering to look at him.
“It’s clearly not safe here.”
I turn toward him. “You do not get to dictate my life, Mr. Breeth. This was my gran’s house, and I will be staying here until the day I sign the papers and transfer it to you.”
He doesn’t argue, just holds up his hands in surrender.
“I sense some tension.” Felix laughs. “Funny since your gran always figured the two of you would hit it off if you ever met.”
“I’m sorry, what?” How could she have thought we’d hit it off?
“Your gran used to joke about how the two of you would be perfect for each other. Both stubborn. Both extremely smart. Strong.” He shakes his head. “Judging by this little exchange, she was either right on the money or far off.”
“The latter,” Elijah and I say at the same time.
“Right.” Felix turns as a truck pulls into the drive. “There’s Alex. I’ll go get my measuring tape.” He leaves quickly, practically going out through the wall like the Kool-Aid Man.
I turn toward Elijah. “You can leave now. I will deal with the rest.”
He doesn’t stop sweeping.
“Mr. Breeth?—”
He throws the broom down, and I jump when it cracks against some of the glass still on the floor. “My name is Elijah.”
“Excuse me?”
“Elijah. That’s my name. Not Mr. Breeth.”
“I don’t see the need for us to be on a first-name basis.” I cross my arms, pride digging its spiky heels right into my side.
“Well, I do. Because even though I can’t understand how a woman as great as Edna managed to have a selfish granddaughter like you, the best thing we can do to honor her memory is call a cease-fire and at least try to get along until you’ve kicked the dust of this town off of your ridiculously fancy heels.”
I look down at the basic tennis shoes I’m wearing. “No heels here.”
His cheeks turn red, and I find myself enjoying the fact that I seem to be able to press his buttons. “You know what I mean.”
“Sure I do. Fine. Elijah. Then tell me this. Why would a man like you take an interest in my gran?”
“Excuse me?” He appears to be genuinely taken aback by my question rather than offended.
“Why would a young, handsome man like you be interested in an eighty-seven-year-old woman?”
“Is that your way of telling me that you think I’m handsome?”
Now it’s my turn to glare at him.
“Your gran reminded me of my own grandmother,” he says. “She raised me after my parents died in a boating accident when I was a kid.”
My negative feelings toward him soften just enough that I feel a pang of pity for his loss. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She was a great person. And when I offered to help your gran carry her groceries one rainy afternoon, I decided that she probably needed help around here. She thought I could use a friend.”
“So you were friends. That’s it.”
If he looked angry before, now he’s downright furious. “Just what are you accusing me of, Andie?” he demands, moving in closer.
“I didn’t think I was hiding it.” Might as well dig my heels in. “Seducing an old woman to get an inheritance was a fairly obvious accusation.”
Elijah steps even closer, cheeks red, eyes practically spitting fire. “I was in no way, shape, or form trying to seduce your grandmother. Sometimes people do things because they genuinely care for others. Not because they’re hoping to get something out of it. Though I can understand how that is such a difficult concept for you to grasp.”
His insult rolls right off me because, for the first time since we met, I no longer doubt his intentions. Do I like him? No. Obviously not. But Elijah Breeth is not the man I thought he was.
And he very clearly cared for my gran as much as she cared for him.
So, instead of arguing further, I take a step back and offer him my hand. “Then here’s to not wanting to smother you with a pillow every time we’re around each other.”
“A pillow is the best you got?” he asks, taking my hand and shaking it. I try to ignore the way my skin tingles at his touch.
“For now. But I’m creative. I can come up with something else if need be.”
Elijah’s anger dissipates, and he grins, a crooked smile that makes me feel things I’d rather not admit—not even to myself.
“Is it safe to come in?” Felix calls out.
Pulling my hand away, I call out, “Yes, you coward. We’ve officially called a cease-fire.”
* * *
Dearest Andie,
It’s been a month since you left, and I am still trying so hard to keep it together. The things being said about you around town are upsetting, but not nearly as infuriating as the knowledge that you were groomed by that man and I didn’t even notice.
How did I not see it?
Were there signs I missed?
I am praying for you, child. Every single day. Multiple times a day. We all are. No matter what happens, Hope Springs will always welcome you back.
In happier news, Carmen and I went to a flea market in Boston this past weekend and ended up with fourteen boxes of books for the library! Fourteen! Can you believe it? They barely fit in the back of her van!
She was so excited as she opened them. Like a kid on Christmas morning as she cataloged and shelved them. It makes me happy to see her happy.
Johnny is growing like a weed, and seeing him makes me long for the days when you were that little. So sweet and happy.
You loved to sing then.
Are you still singing?
Come home soon,
Gran
Tears in my eyes,I set the letter aside and wipe them away. I’ve been through thirty others so far. Thirty letters where my gran bares her heart to me on the page in a way I’m not sure I ever could. What did I do to deserve such love?
And why did it take her dying for me to realize it?
“I’m so sorry, Gran,” I whisper and cradle my head in my hands. When the tears threaten to spill over, I push to my feet, scaring the cat, who was sleeping at the foot of the bed. “Sorry, Aggie. But I need food.”
He settles down, so I start to slide the letters back under the bed, but the thought of leaving them here bothers me. Why? I’m not sure, but I know that I can’t bring myself to leave these pieces of my gran behind. Even if I’m only going to be gone an hour or so.
With that in mind, I carry them outside and stick them in the back seat of my car before heading downtown.
Hope Diner hasn’t changed even a little since the day I left. Well, aside from the owner. The elderly couple who’d opened and owned it sold it to Lilly’s husband, Alex, when he got out of the service and came home looking for a life outside of the military.
But he didn’t change a single thing about the décor, and for that, I’m grateful. It’s like stepping back in time as I cross the threshold.
“Hey, Andie,” Alex greets as I slide onto one of the red leather barstools at the counter.
“Hey. I don’t suppose you make a good cheeseburger, do you?”
“I make a great cheeseburger,” he replies. “Coke to go with it?”
“Tea, please.”
“Coming on up.” He taps the counter then heads into the kitchen.
A moment later, someone slides onto the barstool right next to mine.
“If it isn’t Andie Montgomery.”
Unease slips up my spine as I turn to face off with George’s brother, Stanley. “Hi, Stanley.”
He grins at me, the same charming smile his younger brother used to entice me in high school. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you back here.” The way he looks me up and down makes me feel slimy.
“My gran lives here.”
“Lived, from what I understand.”
I swallow hard, doing my best to ignore the anger creeping up my spine. Jesus, help me, please. “What do you want, Stanley?”
“I want to know why you thought you’d be welcome in this town after what you did to my brother.”
“I didn’t do anything to your brother.”
“You seduced him, ruined his marriage, and sent him running from his home.” His tone is low, and I glance around to see if anyone else is watching our exchange. Unfortunately, Alex is in the kitchen, and there’s no one else in the diner.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as he wraps a large hand around my upper arm. I try to move away, but he squeezes, and I’m instantly thrown back to being eighteen and sneaking over to his house where George had been staying.
There’d been one night in particular, when I’d been staying over and was half asleep on the pull-out couch. Someone climbed onto it with me, and I curled in closer, thinking it was George. Needless to say, it wasn’t.
All rational thought leaves my head, and I’m struck near motionless.
“Maybe we should go have a conversation in private,” Stanley says.
The bell dings overhead, but I barely hear it, thanks to the pounding in my ears.
“You’re going to want to let her go if you want to keep breathing.” The deep voice is not one I’d be particularly grateful to hear under any other circumstances.
“This isn’t a conversation for you, Breeth. Andie and I are old friends. Aren’t we?” That hand tightens.
Elijah. Safety.The idea hits me so fast that I don’t even have time to argue with myself.
I shoot up off the stool, and Stanley falls backward. My arm is still in his grasp, and he starts to pull me down with him. But, thanks to Elijah’s quick thinking, he’s able to keep me upright as Stanley releases me the moment he hits the floor.
“That was assault!” he bellows. He gets up almost instantly and balls his hands into fists.
Alex rushes out of the kitchen, surveying the scene. His cheeks redden, and he strides around the counter. “Get out of my diner, Stanley,” he says.
“Me? I didn’t do anything!” he yells. “She attacked me.”
“You and I both know that’s not true,” Elijah all but growls. “But if you want to pin assault on someone, stick around. I’ll take a few swings.” He takes a step forward, but Alex holds up a hand.
“Get out, Stanley. I mean it.”
“You’re taking the side of the town home-wrecker and the new guy over me?”
“I am. Now get out before I call the sheriff.”
“I’ll be seeing you around, Andie.” And with that, he storms out of the diner.
“Are you all right?” Elijah asks.
“I’m sorry, Andie. I didn’t see him come in,” Alex says.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” But as the adrenaline wanes, I begin to shake. “I’m so hungry,” I say with a half laugh that’s meant to diffuse the tension but only seems to worry both men.
“Come on.” Elijah guides me toward a booth at the back then sits me down in a seat before taking the side across from me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m—” I close my eyes and take a deep, steadying breath.
I am not eighteen.
I am not eighteen.
I am a grown woman with a successful business and years of self-defense training. So how did Stanley manage to put me so far on edge that I’d forgotten all of that?
“I’m fine.”
“He called you a home-wrecker.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” Elijah lets it go then pulls out his phone and fires off a quick text.
“You’re not going to push?”
“Why would I? If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t want to talk about it.”
But I do, don’t I? Is that what this heaviness is in my chest? This weight and desire to actually vocalize what nearly happened all those years ago. Gran trusted Elijah. Can I?
Safety.
That word pops back into my mind, and I get the overwhelming feeling that Elijah Breeth is a man to trust. Even if I don’t particularly care for him. “I was involved with Stanley’s brother, George. He was my history teacher, and after he left his wife, we?—”
“How much older was he?”
“Twenty years.”
Elijah shakes his head angrily, but he doesn’t look surprised. “He groomed you.”
“You already knew all of this.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.” Embarrassment heats my cheeks.
“Sorry. I found out after you got into town. But since he was divorced before you ran off with him, I hadn’t realized you might be blamed for ending the marriage.”
“It was three months after the divorce was final, but people love to talk.”
“Stanley blames you too?”
“Stanley is something else entirely.” I close my eyes and take a deep, steadying breath. “When George and I started seeing each other, he was living on Stanley’s pull-out couch. One night, I’d snuck out and was staying over. George had gotten up to go get a shower, and a few minutes later, Stanley got under the covers. I’d been half asleep, or I would have known right away. He made some moves on me, but George caught him, and he tried to play it off like it was a joke. But we both knew it wasn’t.”
I shake my head, trying to kick the memory out of my brain.
I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if George hadn’t returned. At that age, being around two older men like that, I wouldn’t have had the courage to say no. And that thought terrifies me.
“So he’s a pervert too. Good to know.” Elijah growls the words, clearly furious. He glances towards the door, and I get the impression he’s considering going after Stanley.
“I was there, and I was eighteen.”
“You were still a child,” he retorts.
“Not in the eyes of the law.”
“In the eyes of a forty-one-year-old man and his brother, you should have been.” Frustration laces his tone. It’s not judgment though, and for that, I’m grateful.
“Anyway. He caught me off guard, that’s all. I’ll be prepared next time.”
Elijah doesn’t respond, just nods.
“Here you go.” Alex sets a glass of tea in front of me and then a coffee in front of Elijah. “Your burger is almost ready. Food, Elijah?”
“No, thanks. Eliza made some meatloaf last night, and I stole the leftovers from Lance’s house. I need to eat the evidence before he shows up for work tomorrow.”
Alex laughs, and I catch myself smiling.
“Is that a smile?” Elijah asks. “For me?”
“You can be funny when you’re not being incredibly agitating.”
He laughs. “Good to know.”
I take a sip of my tea. “It’s late for coffee, isn’t it?”
“Not for me. I’m on monitor duty tonight, so I won’t be sleeping.”
“But you didn’t sleep today.”
“I grabbed an hour.”
“That hardly seems like enough,” I counter.
He shrugs. “It’s the nature of the job.”
I take another drink. “What exactly does Knight Security do all the way out here? I can’t imagine you have a lot of systems installed here in Hope Springs.”
“We don’t,” he replies. “We monitor some of the businesses and a few residentials. But most of our work is in Boston. We have a few clients on an as-needed basis out of New York.”
“What happens if an alarm goes off out there?”
“We contact the police. Depending on how bad it is, one or all of us will show up as soon as we can.”
“So you’re a private security firm in the small town of Hope Springs.”
He nods. “We operate as bodyguards occasionally, though that’s more Michael’s wheelhouse.”
“Not you?”
“I’ve handled a few clients, but since I’m better with a computer than people, I do best behind the scenes. Plus, bad hearing in one ear.” He taps the side of his head.
“You seem to be pretty good with people. My gran liked you.”
“That’s because I brought her flower vases on Valentine’s.”
“Flower vases?”
“She liked to pick her own flowers and said she could bake anything better than what I could bring her dessert-wise. So, I always brought a vase.”
My throat burns with emotion, so I take a drink. “She never told me that. What else did my gran like?”
“She enjoyed watching Murder She Wrote and Bones re-runs.”
“She always liked to read too.”
“Her eyesight was suffering more lately, so I’d read to her some nights.”
I sit up in my seat. “Her eyesight was bad?”
“Not entirely gone,” he replies. “But it was bad enough that reading anything would give her a bad migraine. She’d switched to audiobooks recently.”
Guilt crashes down on my head like an anvil. My gran was nearly blind, and I didn’t know? How did my best friend growing up—the woman who raised me—become such a stranger?
“Did she go to the doctor for her heart problems?”
“That I don’t know. She didn’t tell me she was having problems. It wasn’t until I got the call that she’d…” He looks away and takes a drink of coffee. His grief is a match for mine, bringing another wave of guilt down on top of me for ever believing this man was out to take advantage of my gran.
Even my mother, expert actress that she is, isn’t this good.
Elijah loved Gran. Just as she loved him. And I’ve treated him like crap from the moment we met. All because I was jealous of the relationship they had.
“Anyway. That was the first I’d heard of any heart problems.”
Alex returns and slides the burger in front of me. My mouth waters as I take in the crisp fries and juicy patty. “This looks delicious.”
“I told you. I make a great cheeseburger.” With a smile, he heads back for the kitchen as a group of teens strolls into the diner.
“Can I ask you a question?” Elijah says. “A genuine, no judgment question.”
“Sure.” I take a bite off of a fry and nearly groan. So. Incredible.
“Why didn’t you come back and visit? Why stay away for as long as you did?”
My stomach churns as I ponder his question. It’s an easy answer but not a flattering one. “Fear. I made a mistake. A big one. And it cost my gran all of her savings account.”
“But you started your business. That’s why she gave it to you.”
“I lost all of her money,” I confess. I’ve never spoken those words out loud. Not to anyone. So why do I feel so comfortable talking about it now? “I bought George a car. Sent him on a few big vacations, all while he covered the rent on our apartment. Then, the moment he met someone younger than I was, he left, saddling me with a mountain of credit card debt he took out in my name. I lost the apartment, and since I couldn’t afford another, I was homeless for a year.”
“What?”
“Glamorous, right?”
“Andie—”
“I brought it upon myself.” I want him to understand that I’m not trying to play the blame game, nor am I looking for sympathy. What are those infamous words? It is what it is. It happened. I moved on.
“I made a mistake, and because I wasn’t sure how to tell my gran that I’d lost everything, I wanted to wait until I’d built something. So, I worked practically nonstop as I finished school, did whatever I needed to in order to find a safe place to sleep, and then, before I knew it, so much time had passed that I didn’t have the guts to come back here. What would it look like? Hope Springs’ biggest stain returning with her tail tucked between her legs?”
“I could never picture you returning anywhere with your tail tucked between your legs.”
I laugh. “Believe me, Elijah, it was a thought.”
“She would have understood.”
“It wasn’t just the money though.” I push the burger back and rest my hands on the table. “I spent years running from this town. From Gran. From God. Years trying to hide because the stain of my mistakes was like acid against my skin.”
“But you are forgiven for your mistakes,” he tells me. “By God and by your gran.”
“Sometimes, I’m not so sure.”
His phone rings, so he pulls it out of his pocket and presses it to his ear. The volume is low enough that I can’t make out the voice on the other side though, from Elijah’s expression, whatever is happening is not good.
“Be right there.” He hangs up.
“Everything okay?”
“That was Felix. He was driving over to drop off some tools for tomorrow and noticed the front door of your gran’s house kicked in.”
I can all but feel the blood drain from my face. “Her house was broken into?”
“Yes.”
Of all the things that could have been stolen, there’s only one that worries me. “Aggie.”