Chapter Four
Four
Simon
Small mercy that Hannah wasn’t my bonus grandma.
I felt my mouth curve up slightly as I remembered her outraged expression and the fire that had shot out of her blue gaze when I had suggested as much.
Admittedly, in hindsight it had been a pretty dumb assumption, but how was I to know Gramps owned only half of a cottage?
He’d never mentioned that he and a buddy shared the place.
This news was definitely going to cause me some major problems.
I needed to sell this place for economic stability.
I had too many responsibilities to indulge in owning a vacation home or even half of one.
If Hannah insisted on living here, the cost of fixing up this place would just become a money pit for me.
I couldn’t have that, and even though it might make things simpler if I explained my situation to her, I wasn’t comfortable discussing with a complete stranger the dysfunction junction that was my family.
I glanced back at the cottage from my vantage point on the dock.
It was well situated and the property was a substantial size, allowing for the building of a very large vacation home or several townhomes.
We could make so much money if we sold it.
Not that there wasn’t a sentimental part of me that wanted to hang on to the place, but it simply wasn’t an option.
My original plan had been to come and inspect the property while I packed up Gramps’s belongings.
I’d assumed I’d be here for a month—giving myself some time to fish, surf, and get away from the office grind for a while—but now I had to scrap that plan and figure out what to do about Ms. Hannah Spencer.
An image of her soaking wet from jumping into the channel popped into my mind.
I blinked, trying to dislodge it. But then the sound of her husky voice saying “I’ve got you” echoed in my ears.
I shook my head. I couldn’t let this woman get under my skin so easily.
All my plans had been crafted with me as the sole owner of the cottage.
My future and the future of my brother, whom I provided for, were at stake.
Even though I was now looking at making half of what I would have in a sale, the thought of the potential consequences of not being able to sell the cottage made my anxiety spike.
Charlie needed round-the-clock care, and I was determined that he would have only the best. I owed him that.
I’d think I was overreacting, but the probability of being able to sell the house, especially given the fact that my co-owner had been living in a van for five years, was in jeopardy.
It seemed highly unlikely that she was going to sell the first home she’d had in years, especially when it was free.
I glanced out at the marsh and noticed that it had gone quiet.
It was almost as if the birds and critters knew that my plans had just imploded and they’d scattered to higher ground to avoid my primal screaming.
A chill wind blew, ruffling my hair, and I glanced up to see the blue sky being overtaken by rain clouds.
If my life were a movie, I’d call it foreshadowing.
All was not lost, I told myself. It could be that the realities of taking care of a house, especially one that was falling down, would get old really quickly for Hannah.
All I had to do was step back and let her take the lead on dealing with the problems, and she’d see how much work this place was and by the end of our mandatory two months together, she’d agree to sell.
Another gust of wind chilled my damp clothes and I shivered. I needed to get the boat, my only mode of transportation presently, out of the coming rainstorm.
I maneuvered my boat onto the lift and hoisted it up into the boathouse.
I had motored down here from my sister, Lorelei’s place in Kill Devil Hills.
Thankfully, neither my sister nor my brother cared that Gramps had left the cottage to me.
In fact, Lorelei had said she hoped that I kept the cottage for myself and used it to get away from work.
It was a nice sentiment but we both knew that I had other responsibilities.
As I secured the boat, I wondered why Gramps hadn’t mentioned that he shared this property with someone.
Was William Spencer a friend? An acquaintance?
From a financial perspective, a house share made sense.
Houses in the Outer Banks were not cheap and this one was located right on a marsh with access to the ocean, but it wasn’t as if Gramps had been hurting for money. So why the secrecy?
With the mandatory stay of two months that the attorney had stated was a condition of our inheritance, I figured I’d have plenty of time to figure it out. Just like I had the summer to get to know my housemate and see if I could talk her into selling.
My brief impression of Hannah Spencer was that of an impulsive—she’d jumped into the channel to save me—fearless—again, the jump—person who didn’t think things through before she acted.
I could work with that. I’d have to play it cool and let the cottage’s sad state dampen her enthusiasm for staying while I got to know her.
Then, when I knew what she wanted out of life, I’d dangle the possibility of achieving it and convince her that selling was her best option to reach her goal, whatever that might be.
I stared up at the sweep of lawn and the cottage as the rain clouds barreled toward it.
How many times had Gramps stood in this spot in the place he’d called his sacred space?
I had expected to feel something when I arrived at the cottage, mostly loss and grief.
I hadn’t expected confusion with the arrival of an unexpected housemate, and, in the form of a small pony, chaos.
I had so many questions and I desperately wished Gramps were here so I could ask him.
His loss hit me low and deep. Gramps had been gone for four months and while I’d accepted his passing, mostly, the missing of him and his gruff affection frequently hollowed me out at my core and I found it hard to breathe.
Big drops of rain started to splat on the boathouse roof. Enough brooding, I needed to get back to the house. I turned and glanced out at the water. I felt my lips compress into a thin determined line.
“All right, Gramps, I’m going to trust that you knew what you were doing and try to make the best choices I can for this place.”
A fish jumped in the channel, and I had the fanciful notion that it was Gramps giving me his approval. I turned to jog back to the cottage before I drowned in my own sentimentality or the downpour that had just begun.
I was soaked through…again…before I reached the back door. The rain was surprisingly frigid and the late afternoon became shrouded in a gloomy gray. A perfect reflection of my current dark mood.
Hannah was closing the last of the windows to keep the rain out.
She crossed back to the living room, sat on the couch, and dried her hair with the towel I had given her.
Dude was on the floor at her feet, watching her with a worshipful look in his eyes.
The papers Vincent had left us were on the coffee table exactly where he’d put them.
“So…” I grabbed the towel I’d used before and sat on the edge of one of the recliners while I dried off my arms, legs, and hair. “It looks like we have some things to discuss, Ms. Spencer.”
“Do we, Mr. O’Malley?” she retorted as rain hammered on the roof.
“Clearly, neither of us knew about the shared situation of this cottage.” I met her gaze. She pursed her lips and slowly nodded. “You came here expecting to have the house all to yourself and to settle in and stay, correct?”
“Yes.” There was a bit of pout in her voice that should not have been as charming as it was.
“And I planned to sell the place as soon as possible,” I said.
“Why?” She cocked her head to the side in confusion. “Why would you sell something that your grandfather left to you?”
I frowned. How much did I want to tell her about my personal life?
About my brother, Charlie, and his care?
My instinct to protect my brother roared in my chest just as it always did.
I went for a diversionary tactic. It was time to lean into the house’s state of disrepair.
“Have you looked at this place? Really looked at it?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s fine.”
At that moment a water drop plopped onto her forehead and ran down the length of her nose to drip onto her shirt. I had never believed in cosmic intervention until that exact moment. We held each other’s gaze for a beat before Hannah tilted her head back to see where the water had come from.
I followed her gaze and saw the bubble of paint right over her head. There had to be a leak somewhere, and the only things holding the water back were the many layers of paint the ceiling had gotten over the years. Another drop plopped onto her head.
“Bucket! We need a bucket!” Hannah cried.
I started to stand but stopped myself. It took some effort to remain seated as my normal inclination would be to help but that would defeat my purpose in convincing her to sell.
I relaxed back into my seat while she raced from the living room to the kitchen, where I heard her banging around in the cupboards until she returned with a large steel spaghetti pot.
She placed it under the bubble and stepped back as the drops from the water bubble began to ping into the pot.
“There.” She brushed her hands together.
“Not really a solution, though, is it?” I asked.
She looked me over with an annoyed expression. “It’ll do for now.” The drops increased in speed and Dude’s ears perked up as he watched.
“If you say so.” I took my phone out of my pocket and started to scroll, checking my messages. Sure enough, there was one from Charlie. It was a funny video, featuring a hamster eating a tiny burrito. I decided a response could wait.
The gloom outside increased and I checked the weather app to see how long the rain would last. It looked like another hour. Excellent. I was eager to see what the next calamity to hit the house would be.
Hannah sat down and tapped the papers on the table. “We should probably read through this. Vincent left a copy for both of us.”
She picked up one navy blue folder and handed it to me. It had the law office’s name embossed in silver on the cover. I flipped it open and turned on the light app on my phone so I could read in the gloom. I glanced at the chair where Hannah sat and noted that she was doing the same.
We were both quiet. While I was painfully familiar with insurance contracts, I’d never read a will before.
It was jarring to see Gramps’s formal name, Robert Augustus O’Malley.
I forced myself to keep reading. It was very straightforward.
Just as Vincent had said. We shared the house equally and were to live in it for two months, either at the same time or individually, before making any decisions.
If we chose to keep it, we were to invest in its care and maintenance equally and if we sold it, the profit would be split.
If one of us was to buy the other out, it would be for half of the current market value. Well, shit.
I glanced up at Hannah over the edge of the folder. She was reading her copy. A small frown marred her forehead and I wondered if she was reading the same section I’d just read.
“What do you suppose half of the current market value is?” she asked, confirming my suspicion.
“More than either of us should spend on a house that is falling down.” I tossed my folder onto the table.
My phone chimed in my hand. I flipped it over to see that it was Charlie…again. I knew my brother well enough to know he wasn’t going to stop messaging until I called him as I did every evening. “Excuse me, I have to make a call.”
Her eyebrows lifted but she didn’t say anything. Dude had fallen asleep on the floor at her feet and was snoring. I tapped Charlie’s name in my contacts list and strode into the kitchen to make the call in as much privacy as the house offered.
“Hey.”
“Did you get my message? Why didn’t you respond? Are you okay? Is something wrong? Is there a problem?”
I glanced through the door to see Hannah reading the will while absently rubbing Dude’s belly.
“No, no problem,” I lied.