“What a pleasant bedside manner,” Jeffrey snarled. He stood and paced at the end of the bed.
“I’ve heard he’s an excellent doctor and that’s what matters.”
Jeffrey started to place his hands on the foot of the bed, but stopped at the memory of Camylle’s pain each time the bed had moved. He searched his father’s face for any sign of recognition that they were in the room, but found only peaceful sleep. He blew out a loud breath and shook his head.
“He doesn’t want me here anyway.”
“Your father loves you very much.” Jacquelyn reached for her son’s hands.
“I’m just a disappointment to him.”
“Oh, Jeffrey, no. That isn’t true at all. Yes, your father was disappointed when you left the company, but he is proud of how well you have done in such a short time. We both are.”
“I heard him when I was at the house. He thinks I abandoned my obligations.”
“You have to understand, your father, he’s never been very emotional. He buries himself in work when emotional issues arise and thinks that is the answer for everyone. Don’t you remember when his mother died? He practically moved into his office and I was left to deal with the funeral arrangements.”
Jeffrey nodded. He remembered his father disappearing for several weeks around the time of his grandmother’s death, his parents arguing late one night when Edward had finally returned home.
“He realizes he made a mistake when he tried to send you to Texas.” Jacquelyn paused, taking a deep breath, tears glistening in her eyes. “He got it in his head it would be better for everyone if you went away for awhile and I didn’t try to talk him out of it. I hope one day you can forgive us for that.”
The family business had always been in Florida, so when his dad sent him to Texas to evaluate a property he was considering purchasing he grew suspicious. Camylle had just been diagnosed with the cancer and told she had only a few months left. He refused to leave with Camylle so sick. She pressured him to do as his father asked, assuring him she would be fine for the week it would take him to do the evaluation. Reluctantly he agreed.
When he’d returned she was in the hospital. The cancer had been aggressive and attacked her organs. At first, she wouldn’t allow him to see her, but she relented after he argued that he had gone to Texas for her.
Jeffrey felt the fist that had been clenched around his heart for the past four years relax ever so slightly. “You’re my parents and you should have been there to support me, instead I felt completely alone.” He stopped to reflect on what his mother had just said. “But I guess I also should have thought about the loss you were feeling. I know how much you loved Camylle.”
Jacquelyn stood and pulled Jeffrey into her arms. “I wanted to help you through Camylle’s illness, but you shut us out after the whole Texas thing.”
He leaned into his mother and squeezed. He had forgotten how comforting her embrace could be, how she always smelled like vanilla, how she had always made the world seem less frightening.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Ian rested on his haunches, the end of his crowbar under the lip of another plank, but his attention was on the doorway where he could see Lizzie moving around in the next room. He watched her, relieved that the tension between them seemed to have dissipated. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, but he had a feeling it had something to do with Jeffrey. He tried to imagine Lizzie and Jeffrey as a couple. The few times he’d seen them together he’d recognized an easy comfort between them, a familiarity that belied their short association.
Lizzie turned and caught him looking at her. He dropped his gaze and worked his crowbar, prying up another wet board. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her pull fresh towels from a plastic bag. She dragged one of the chairs closer to him and plopped down with a tired sigh. He noticed dark circles under her eyes.
“You look exhausted.”
“Gee thanks, that’s what every girl loves to hear.” She gave a half-hearted laugh.
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
Lizzie shrugged. “I dozed off at some point.”
“Why don’t you go home, get some rest? There’s not much left to do here.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Ian nodded and handed her a piece of wood to dry. They fell into a rhythm with Lizzie finishing each piece as he freed the next. They worked for ten minutes without speaking.
“I talked to Jeffrey,” she said, breaking the silence. Ian fumbled with the crowbar.
“About what?” he tried to sound casual.
“Grief, letting go, moving on, you know the things you wanted me to tell him because he wouldn’t listen to you.” She stood and straightened the stack of dried wood.
“How did he respond?”
“Defensive at first, but he seemed to consider what I said.”
“Thank you.” Hope swelled within Ian.
In an instant he was on his feet pulling Lizzie into his arms. He felt her body tense for a moment before her arms wrapped around him and her head settled on his chest. Despite all the strength she displayed she now seemed vulnerable. He inhaled, memorizing the scent of lavender coming from her hair. Lizzie broke the embrace first, stepping back, her gaze downcast. Ian noticed her stifling a yawn. It was only six o’clock but her eyelids drooped as if it were midnight.
“Go home,” he said. “You need to rest. I can lock up for you.”
“How much longer is this going to take?”
“Not more than thirty minutes.” Ian scanned the corner of the room still needing attention; he counted about twenty more lengths of wood.
“I can make it that long,” She reached for the last free board and started rubbing it down. Ian sank back to the floor and worked the crowbar with a renewed energy, anxious to finish the job so she could rest.
Half an hour later, they stood together surveying their work. The living room, which had looked so perfect two days before, now stood exposed. Ian waited outside the front door watching Lizzie drape the last damp towel over the sink. Her back was slumped, several small leaves were tangled in her blond curls, her bare feet were dusty, yet she still exuded a quiet beauty he hadn’t seen in other women. She turned toward the door and caught his gaze. Their eyes locked and he saw a flicker of something he couldn’t quite place, was it sadness, anxiety, fear? He felt a desire to protect her from whatever it was. She crossed the living room, picked up her still wet tennis shoes, and joined him outside.
“Do you think we will know tomorrow how much of the flooring I can reuse?” she asked as she fumbled with her keys.
“I would give it a couple of days to make sure the wood is completely dry. I have another commitment Monday night, but I can come over Tuesday to see where we stand.”
Lizzie nodded. “I’m so sorry this happened, you must have better things to do with your free time. I’ll find a way to pay you for all the extra work.”
They ambled down the walkway to her car. She tossed her shoes through the open window into the passenger seat. Ian reached for her arm and turned her to face him.
“Working with my hands is the gift God gave me, and I’m happy to use it to help you. Besides, you may have helped one of my best friends.” Again, he saw that flicker in her eyes.
“He still has some big decisions to make,” she said.
“I know, but if he listened to you that’s more progress than I ever made.” He paused remembering the call he’d received from Jacquelyn. “Do you remember what day you talked to him?”
“Sometime last week.”
His lips turned up in a slow smile as the pieces came together in his mind. “His mom called me a few days ago, and said Jeffrey had been to the house. She was worried because he seemed disoriented. What if he drove over there after you talked to him?”
“I guess it’s possible.” A yawn swallowed her final word.
“I’m sorry, here I am yammering on when you can barely keep your eyes open. Are you okay to drive??
??
“I’ll be fine.” She opened the door and dropped into the seat. Ian held the door a moment before pressing it closed.
“I’ll see you in a few days then. Drive safe.” He watched her back out and wave as she shifted into drive. When her brake lights disappeared around the corner, he hefted his toolbox into his trunk.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
The hotel was crowded with tourists who had altered their plans when Hurricane Charley first threatened Florida, and the next three weeks passed in a blur. Lizzie volunteered for additional shifts, happy for the opportunity to make some extra money. Now a new storm was churning in the Atlantic.
“The Harris-Singh wedding is scheduled for this weekend,” wailed Tammy, the convention manager.
“Maybe this new storm won’t affect us. I mean really, what are the chances of us being hit by two storms in one year?” Lizzie said with a confident smile.
“We’re still reeling from Charley. I’ve been trying to get a contractor out to the house for weeks but they are all booked.”
“I know what you mean. Ian was able to patch my roof, but I don’t know if it will survive another storm. I can manage the wedding if you need to take care of other things.”
“That would be wonderful. I have several reports to do and need to prepare banquet event orders for the medical group arriving in two weeks. I could arrange a meeting with the couple this afternoon to introduce you.”
“Sure, just let me know what time.” Lizzie gave Tammy’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
Back at her own desk, Lizzie pulled up the National Weather Service website for more information on the new storm. The center of Hurricane Frances was north of the Turks and Caicos Islands and moving toward the Bahamas. The local news stations showed the Florida Governor calling for residents on the east coast to evacuate in advance of the storm. She slumped in her seat, chewing on the inside of her lip, anxiety filling the pit of her stomach.
“Lizzie, would you be interested in working through the weekend if the storm comes this way?” Jonathan called from his office. She swiveled her chair to see him.
“What would you need me to do?”
“Man the front desk, be here to answer questions, provide information, stuff like that. I don’t know how many people will still be in-house, but we need staff on hand to deal with any guests we do have.” Jonathan sounded tired and she noticed his clothes were wrinkled. “You’ll be on the clock the entire time you’re here,” he added.
“Will there be anyone with me?”
“You can choose one of the front desk agents to assist if you want.”
“I’ll ask Stephen,” she said as she turned back to her computer. She typed an instant message to Stephen and smiled when he replied he would be happy to help.
“We’re both in,” Lizzie called to Jonathan.
“Thanks, we should know for sure what the storm is doing by the end of the day. I’ll touch base with you then.”
Lizzie spent the rest of the morning preparing for the storm. She printed manifests of all the guests scheduled to arrive over the next four days and checked it hourly for cancellations. At one o’clock, she set off for the convention office to meet with Stella Harris and Naveen Singh to discuss their wedding.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Lizzie greeted the couple as she shook their hands. “I’m so sorry we aren’t having the best weather for you, but I can assure you we’ll do everything we can to make this weekend memorable.”
Stella gave a nervous laugh. “I guess not many people can say they were married during a hurricane.”
“This is true.” Lizzie was heartened to see the couple remaining positive despite this wrinkle in their plans.
“My parents came from India,” Naveen said with a faint accent. “I don’t think they would be able to make the trip again if we rescheduled the wedding, so we will make the best of what we have.” He wrapped an arm around his fiancée and gave her a squeeze.
Lizzie was introduced to their parents before they all took seats to discuss the wedding. Arrangements were made to have the conference rooms opened up and decorated overnight in the event Hurricane Frances changed course and impacted Orlando more than anticipated; the dinner menu was modified to items that could be managed by a reduced staff, and party favors were replaced with mini hurricane survival kits.
At seven o’clock Lizzie shut down her computer and traded her high heels for sneakers. Outside golden rays from the sinking sun reflected off the glass high rises. The sidewalks were already crowded with couples and friends heading to dinner. The smells of barbeque and fries made her stomach growl and she realized she had missed lunch.
She stopped in her tracks when she approached her house, surprised to see a black car in the driveway. A large man who was more than six feet tall and close to three hundred pounds, with thick black hair and a beaklike nose stood on the porch. Lizzie hesitated, unsure if she should keep walking or approach this man. The man caught sight of her and called out.
“Hello there! Do you happen to know the occupants of this house?” His voice was surprisingly high-pitched for a man of his size.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie noticed Mae sitting on her porch, she hesitated a moment then crossed the street. The man called out again and started down the stairs toward her.
“Do you know that man?” Mae asked as Lizzie joined her. Lizzie shook her head.
“Excuse me ladies, I’m looking for the residents of that home.” The man pointed across the street as he approached Mae’s front steps but refrained from joining them on the porch.
“And who, may I ask, are you?” Mae said, a steely edge to her voice Lizzie hadn’t heard before.
“Ralph Anderson, my stepfather owns the house and has been renting it out. I’m in town on business and he asked me to stop by to check on things.”
“Does the property manager know you are here? Maybe you should contact him to make an appointment to meet the renter,” Mae replied.
“Unfortunately I only have a few hours before my flight. Perhaps you can tell me about the occupant. My father received a letter from the management company saying the house sustained extensive damage during the hurricane a few weeks ago.” The man looked back at the house. “Doesn’t appear to be very damaged from out here.”
“Young man, you can’t always judge things by their outer appearances. Didn’t your manager send photos with that letter?”
“I don’t know ma’am. Jacob, my stepfather, didn’t tell me anything about that, he just asked me to check on things. Do you know what the damage was?”
“I’m pretty sure the photos speak for themselves. If you are who you say you are then I suggest you speak to your father. You also might want to let him know what an eyesore he allowed it to become,” Mae scolded.
“My step-father,” Ralph corrected her, distaste dripping from his words. “What about the residents? Do you know them?”
“I do, and they seem very responsible.” Mae gave Ralph a hard stare, as if daring him to ask more questions. He opened his mouth then shut it without a word, turning to look at the house.
“Thank you ma’am. I appreciate your time.” Ralph gave Mae and Lizzie a last look then returned to the waiting vehicle.
“They?” Lizzie asked once the car had turned the corner.
Mae smiled. “I wasn’t going to tell a strange man a single young lady lived there all by herself now was I?”
Lizzie felt a rush of comfort as well as a new appreciation for her neighbor. Knowing she had people watching out for her made her realize she wasn’t as alone in the world as she sometimes thought.
“I had no idea you could be so intimidating,” Lizzie laughed.
“I did raise two boys,” Mae said with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Did I tell you the kitchen counters are being resurfaced this weekend? I found a guy who can do a granite overlay for half the cost of replacing them completely.” Lizzie dug into her purse searching for the samp
les of the countertops she had chosen. She pulled out a small square of pale brown, almost yellow granite with flecks of black and amber.
“That should go nicely with your yellow walls.” Mae held the chip up to the light, tilting it to see the variety of colors. “What is your next project?”
“I think the interior will be done after this weekend,” Lizzie said. “I want to have a party to thank everyone who has helped out, but can’t decide if I should wait until the landscaping is done as well.”
Mae laughed. “Just trimming the bushes and cutting the grass was a tremendous improvement, what else are you planning to do?”
“I’d like to lay some pavers in the backyard for a patio area and create some more flower beds. I thought it would be nice to have a swing in the tree out back as well.”
Mae nodded. “Avery and his wife used those brick pavers for a patio and it’s lovely. He may have some left over. I’ll ask when he comes this weekend.”
“That would be wonderful. I’ll check Craigslist also; maybe there are others out there who purchased more than they needed.”
Twilight had settled while the women talked. Streetlights came on and windows emitted warm, yellow light. Lizzie heard children playing down the street. A dog barked a happy greeting to its owner, and faint strains of Bach came from an open window.
In the eight weeks since signing the rental agreement, Lizzie had made a home for herself and felt a sense of permanence and stability.
“Why don’t you come for Sunday dinner next week?” Mae asked. “Maybe Avery can give you some pointers for the patio.”
“I would like that,” Lizzie said. They set a time and she rose to leave. “Have a good night,” she called as she crossed the street.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Hurricane Frances was moving slow, battering the Bahamas, leaving a wake of destruction. Lizzie packed a suitcase with enough clothes for three days, hoping she wouldn’t need them all. Since she was going to ride out the storm at work, it had been agreed she didn’t need to arrive before noon, so she spent the morning boarding up her home again.