Chapter 14
ELIAS
I”m such an idiot.
My parting words were about a chicken and not that I”d be back soon. Or, even better, I”ll miss you—no wonder Abigail was crying. I”ll call her later and see how she”s doing.
The drive back from Mystic was boring, and I spent the whole time rehashing every conversation we had on our way down there. She really was a spaz. Keeping up with her conversation ping-pong took practice. But when she was direct, it was refreshing, if not startling. I don”t think Abigail could ever have a hidden agenda. She”s transparent most of the time, unlike my last girlfriend. Oria was always pulling punches and making me feel like I was the one who always goofed up. In retrospect, those red flags got me out of that relationship. I was constantly taking the fall for her lack of planning or bad decisions. Abigail always had a plan. They weren”t sound plans, but at least attempted plans. Regardless, I wasn”t wasting two more years of my life on someone who blamed me for their problems.
Enough. That was then, and this was now. A new beginning with an exciting, gorgeous, unpredictable, and creative person was underway, and I felt alive again. She came out of nowhere like a whirling dervish and, gratefully, into my arms. Abigail flipped a metaphorical switch in both my heart and my head, alerting me to new possibilities. Where usually I”d be attracted to a taller, more robust woman, Abigail was slight, undernourished, and scrappy. But, those eyes! Hazel and luminous, with long dark lashes set evenly on her delicate face. The smudges under her eyes revealed volumes of struggle and concern. You could tell she”d been hurt; her inflections also said so. Sometimes sharp in tone, her indifference seemed commonplace. Suspect even. She expected me to be annoyed with her, and, when I wasn”t, her perfectly bowed eyebrows raised in speculation. I didn”t know from moment to moment if she trusted me, though her circumstances forced her to try. I set her straight on that point from the get-go, and it seemed as though we had made progress. I may be obtuse or clinical at times, but I was honest and forthright to everyone. Conversely, no one would know that unless they”d spoke to me to reveal my character. I”d made hiding from people a thing of the past. At least, I”d hoped I was.
Now that I was back in my garage, my attention on Mayor Mitchell”s kid”s car absorbed my time for the rest of the day. I know the kid caused the problem, though it”s his dad”s fault for not teaching him how to care for the car properly. No ounce of coolant or oil was found in any of the appropriate chambers. Duh! I swear kids are getting dumber each decade. High schools insisted on sex education, so why didn”t they insist on Automobile Maintenance 101? Come on!
Usually, I”d hand this off to my number two guy, Paul, but after taking four days off of work, I gave him a few paid days off as a thank you for holding down the fort. A few hours later, I called the mayor and texted his son to come in for a complimentary maintenance training class. Hopefully, I won”t have to see this entitled little shit for anything other than an oil change every few months. Keeping the mayor happy had paid off on a few lucrative fleet deals that paid the rent around here and given me a pretty nice nest egg. If I played my cards right, I could open another location soon.
I”d never been a big dreamer. Data and logic have always steered me in the right direction, except, of course, in relationships. They were the farthest thing from logical. I needed a beer and some guy time. My buddy, Reilly, who I helped on his farm, was the perfect person to help me analyze my adventures with Abigail.
”Since when are you into picking up women?” Reilly poked at me.
”Never. She picked me up.” I scrubbed my face, still not understanding how quickly I had come to Abigail”s rescue.
”She must have, cuz in the ten years I”ve known you, you”ve never had to pick up anyone. Women flock to you. It”s too bad you”re too stupid to see that. You must be damaged.”
I laughed hard at that one. I was damaged. I knew my worth, as well as my appeal. I just never made it a point to dwell on them. If put in front of an intelligent, pretty girl, I would be smitten. Those bombshell types scared the shit out of me. They”re like predators without boundaries.
”I think I need a new friend. You know me too well. What”s with you? Still enjoying the honeymoon phase of your new relationship?” I waggled my eyebrows, having turned the tables.
”So far, so good. Meghan travels often, and I”m unsure how I feel about that. She”ll be gone for two to three weeks at a time, and, when she does come back, she”s not emotionally present. Her work promised this pace wouldn”t last long, though I wouldn”t hold my breath since it’s been like that for two months.” Reilly took a long pull from his beer and hung his head when the glass hit the table. My friend needed a real partner in his life. He worked too hard not to have someone appreciate him and what he was trying to build.
”Sorry, buddy. You deserve better.” I fist-bumped him and took a deep drink myself.
”Not that”s any of my business, but are you going back to see this girl? You seem rather intrigued by her.” Reilly stared me down warily.
I sat back, crossing my arms over my chest, pondering my options.
”Reilly, this girl is incredible. She”s strong, yet silly and smart, and definitely missing a few filters. She”s so direct that it startles me sometimes. To your question, though, I promised her I would. I think there”s something there. Something more than physical.” I silently screamed my enthusiasm and slammed the table, making it wobble.
”Whoa there, big fella. I”m happy for you, but she”s two hundred forty or so miles away. From what you told me earlier, she isn”t moving any time soon. How will it work exactly?”
Little did he know I”d been running probability studies in my mind day and night. My calculations all pivoted on her wanting this as much as I did. I couldn”t afford to open another business in another state without investing in her emotionally and her truly committed to me. My life was beginning to look like a season from the Netflix series Love is Blind. (Yeah, I watched last season. No judgment.)
”Is it possible to make that decision without more time together? I want her to want me, not just because I can fix a car or trap mice. She needs to get to know the real me. The dork, the freak, the boring . . .”
”Dude. You”re anything but boring,” he reassured me.
”Oh, contraire. To someone who doesn”t understand art or why I help a pathetic friend like you instead of partying like a rock star, I”m boring. Abigail is anything but boring. Honestly, she appreciated my sense of humor, even when it was at her expense. She”s cool. You”d like her.”
He nodded his head. ”I can”t wait.”
It was getting late, and we made plans to fix some fencing on his farm that weekend. I dragged myself home to create a project flowchart of how this relationship needed to go so that I could invest in Abigail and our future together. I knew there were more variables than I could account for, but I was determined to navigate this part of our relationship as rationally as possible.
Honesty? Check. Abigail didn”t have a hidden agenda. She”s very transparent.
Looks? Double check. She wasn”t an obvious beauty, but she glowed from the inside out, and her hazel eyes beamed sex appeal. Don”t get me started on her ass or her long, silky hair.
Stability? This is where things got sketchy. Abigail”s family life didn”t do much to give her confidence or nurture her talents. Forget the financial piece; she was a wreck.
Possibilities? Everywhere! I”d build a business out of that barn. I could explore my passion for metal sculpting, and she could make pottery, paint, or anything else her heart desired. Her home had been a bed and breakfast for years. Was there nothing keeping her from repeating that tradition while she explored her passions?
On the surface, we were worlds apart. I was college-educated. She was life-educated. I was raised with structure and little emotional support. She was like her new ”friend,” Amy—cage-free and openly squawked her emotions for all to hear. However, under deeper analysis, we were both broken in similar ways. We didn”t get the love and nurturing we desperately needed when we were young. This precipice was our hurdle to get over—that, and two hundred forty miles.
My relocation project management project looked like a spider web that all led to the same conclusion: our relationship could be a massive train wreck or the adventure of a lifetime. The real question was whether we believed in each other enough to try. I broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.
ABIGAIL
I had to shut down my emotional brain after first having a bawling session. Relieving myself of all my pent-up feelings these past few days was not only cleansing but necessary. I had to get this house in order, and my plan wouldn”t execute itself on its own. I needed to take action.
Today was a purging day. The mounds of dollar store junk went into a black garbage bag immediately and were dragged to the curb. I didn”t know when garbage day was, but I didn”t care. I may be ADHD, but I was meticulous once I started a project. By lunchtime, I had gone through the living room, dining room (what a joke that looked like), front sitting room, and the foyer. Three trips to the curb topped off a clear sign there was a new owner, and people started to stare.
”Hi!” I said, waving at two women on the other side of the secluded road I lived on.
Slight grimaces marked their faces with fake waves. I recognized that, though I may not know these women, I might need their help at some point and should introduce myself. Being a good neighbor doesn”t take much effort, and that”s all the motivation I needed to walk the rest of the drive to meet them.
”Hey. I”m Abigail. I just moved in. So much junk to move out.” I laughed like we all knew this little gem of knowledge. “What”s your name?” I sounded like a first-grader. I should have added, ”Will you be my best friend?”
They looked at each other apprehensively—a secret language between them.
”Um, welcome. I”m Maggie, and this is Jennifer. We live a block down the way. Welcome to the neighborhood.” The thick blonde offered her hand as a peace offering.
”Yeah, welcome. Where did you move from?” The tall brunette probed.
I bit my lip, deciding how much to tell them about my past. It wasn”t their business. If they were like that old jerk at the Office of Deeds, then they didn”t need to know anything about me.
I shook each of their hands with a sincere smile. ”It”s great to meet you both. Once I get myself and this house together, I”d like to have you over for coffee.” Yes. Coffee, not lunch or dinner. ”I”m originally from the Detroit area via Chicago.” Good answer, Abigail. Short and sweet.
”I don”t have my phone, but maybe we could exchange numbers? You could text me with your info when you have a minute?” It was a question, not a commitment, so I hoped they”d follow through. Again, I”m not interested in shallow friendships, only a helping hand on occasion.
They looked at each other again and answered simultaneously, ”Sure.”
One minute later, I was back in my house shaking after giving them my number. Meeting new people was the most awkward thing in the world. People were checking you out, making comments about your looks, and judging your character before you barely said a word. If that weren”t enough, what should I say to them? I knew nothing about them. Was that why people talked about the weather? Whatever. I met enough new people today.
After a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple, I finished my fortification with a rather large iced coffee. Caffeine was the cure to my dopamine insufficiency, says Psychology Today. It”s my inexpensive medication without a prescription. Since my aunt wouldn”t pay for it, I did some research of my own. Caffeine became my drug of choice.
Revved up and ready to go, the next step in my twenty-step plan was to sift through drawers and drawers of housewares, boxing up anything that required an expert eye. Still unsure of everything else, I bagged them up for review later. I couldn”t believe how many china cabinets full of glasses, plates, and other knick-knacks were stuffed to the brim. There must be a set of plates from every decade since the turn of the 19th century. I counted thirty-two sets. Of course, not all were complete, and some were downright ugly. Those went into the donation pile immediately. Another dozen sets were simple and usable but not to my taste. Those got boxed up for donation, as well. Three sets had gold banding around the edges and were adorned with intricate designs. Those stayed and would be great for fancy meals. Listen to me! Fancy meals. When have I ever been to or made a fancy meal? But, maybe . . .
As the streaks of light poured through the windows, I faded. I”d been working hard for hours when I looked around and was pleasantly surprised that my anxiety faded, too. The worst of the clutter was gone, and I could start seeing the original beauty this home once had. Tonight, I”d read through Agatha”s journal and research all the fabrics she used throughout the house. Like the antique wood, these fabrics were delicate, if not fraying. I made a list of phone calls tomorrow for lawn care, painting, and other restoration projects. I needed a vehicle that worked, and, though Elias said he”d be back next weekend, I couldn”t take the chance of not having a car to run errands.
Elias. I wondered what he was doing now. I wasn”t so needy that I had to speak with him tonight, but I would answer his call if he did. I went upstairs, showered off today”s grime, and braided my hair. I liked how it left a soft wave in my hair after it dried. Call it a cheap perm, but the price was right. FREE! I skipped down the back stairs into the kitchen and warmed up leftovers while adding more details to my growing lists. Elias checked the electrical systems, so I felt safe. However, those disgusting bugs and vermin had to go.
”Pest control!” I said in an aha declaration. I didn”t expect an answer, but I was known for talking to myself, complete with answers and narration. I can”t possibly be the only person who does this. I just can”t.
After my late dinner, I followed Elias”s orders and locked all the doors—twice. I turned on the outside lights and ensured the stairways weren”t cluttered with boxes or bags in case I had to escape quickly. How would he know to do that? ”Safety first,” I could hear him say. Fine. I went upstairs, stopped in the second bedroom on the right, pulled Agatha”s journal off the shelf, and proceeded to my bedroom.
I stared at her picture, tracing her eyebrows, lips, and jawbone. It was uncanny how much we looked alike. The hallway walls were cluttered with sepia photos of men with beards and deadpan faces. I didn”t know which was my great-great grandfather”s yet. I could spend months researching my family alone, though it wouldn”t change my attitude about them. Anyone with the presence of mind to plan for their grandchildren far into the future had a good heart. And, for that, I finally felt at peace. Agatha”s predestined manifestation made me the benefactor of their generosity and I promised to make them proud.
I don”t know when I stopped working on my research, but, when I woke up, there was drool on my pillow, my back ached, my hamstrings felt like guitar strings, and my hair! Oh, my, it was a swarm of locks resembling a wasp”s nest attacking my face. My phone buzzed under the covers, and worked feverishly to unwrap my head to find it.
”H-hello.” What happened to my voice?
”Good morning, princess. Did I wake you?” My throat closed at his deep greeting, and my thighs clenched. There wasn”t a better sound in the world than this man”s morning voice. His afternoon and evening voice were pretty damn good, too.
Hmm.”Yeah. What time is it? I don”t remember falling asleep.” Finally free of my hairball, I threw back the rest of the covers and tried to stand. ”Ow. Ow. Ow.” I muttered.
”Are you alright?” His concern was sweet.
”I”m fine. I think I overdid it yesterday, moving boxes of junk out of the house. I need to find my yoga mat and stretch out.” I looked at my phone, noticing it was early, like before eight early.
”Why are you up?” I finally found my walking legs and hobbled across the room and down the short hallway to the bathroom. Yikes, was I a mess.
I heard the rumble in his chest through the phone and the smile in his voice. ”Some of us have day jobs, princess. I just wanted to be sure you were okay after your first night alone.”
I propped up the phone on the counter and turned on the speaker while I washed my face and pulled my hair into a ponytail. ”Remarkably, yes. Especially since someone wasn”t distracting me all day.” I giggled.
He made a snarfing sound. ”Are you referring to me? I wasn”t distracting. I was helpful. There”s a difference.”
Preparing my toothbrush with paste, I replied sweetly. ”Tell me more.” I began brushing in earnest.
”Well, for starters, stopping you from using abrasive liquids on antiques was very helpful and protected your assets.”
I smiled. ”That”s because you like my assets.”
He laughed. ”That I do. On that note, not to sound needy, but did you miss me?”
My jaw dropped. I thought the same thing last night, and now he verbalized it. I liked having him around. His vibe was calm, assuring, and sincere. I can”t remember ever having these sensations in my life. It felt like what home should feel like. Hmm.
”Abigail? Are you still there?”
I was. I had to say something. Something clever, yet affirming. ”You betcha I did.”
That sounded too big in my mouth. Did I scream that? What happened to clever?
“Sorry. What I meant to say was I did—I do—miss you.” I swear I could hear his gears turning in his head. “Take your time, Elias.” My hand slapped my mouth. Shut up, woman!
I heard him clear his throat, ”Abigail, I”ve been missing you since I met you.”