It seemed strange to wake up in her childhood bedroom. In the soft light, Tansy could almost pretend she was seventeen and hadn’t a care in the world other than what she’d wear on her weekend date with Beck.
Almost.
Reality? She wasn’t seventeen and her own daughter slept peacefully in the room next door. The three young girls had worn each other out yesterday. She stretched her arms over her head. Then, tossing back the covers, she slid out of their warmth and padded barefoot into the bath. Quietly, she brushed both her teeth and her hair and swiped mascara over her lashes. Returning to her room, she slipped into jeans and a light sweater. This late in the year, the mornings could be a little chilly.
She crept downstairs and scrawled a note for her mom, telling her she’d run over to the new place. If Gracie woke before her grandma, Tansy knew she’d go in to wake her.
Careful to lock up behind herself, she headed for Tommy’s Texaco and that first cup of bracing coffee. She hadn’t wanted to take a chance on waking either her mother or her daughter with the noise from the single-cup brewer at home.
She swung through the door, breathing in the scent of the fresh-brewed coffee. “Hey, Tommy.”
“Hey right back at you, Ms. Tansy. What in the world are you doin’ up so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Too much on your mind?”
“Yes, way too much, and right now I need a shot of caffeine.”
“You’re in luck then. Just made a fresh pot.”
“Wonderful.” She wandered over and poured a cup, then added a generous dollop of half-and-half and took her first hit. Mmmm. The biscuits smelled too good to resist. “I really need one of those ham biscuits, Tommy.”
“Wife made them up fresh this mornin’, like always.” He lifted the cover, took out one of the wrapped biscuits, and handed it to her. “There you go. Can I get ya anything else this mornin’?” She shook her head, took a bite, and sighed with pleasure. “These are the absolute best. Tell Erlene I haven’t had a better one for four times the money.”
“I’ll do that.” He frowned. “You don’t mind my sayin’ so, you look worried.”
“I am.” She slid onto one of the old stools just inside the door. “My guess is that you know I’m buyin’ the old Elliot house.”
“Yep.”
“And I’m sure you know, too, that Beck is less than happy about that.”
“That would be one way of puttin’ it.”
She swallowed and rolled her eyes. “Right. The house is in great shape. No surprise there, considering it belonged to the Elliots. But for what I need, there’s quite a bit of remodeling to do. I want to turn the downstairs into my business and the upstairs into living quarters for Gracie and me.”
“Heard that, too.”
She gave a mirthless laugh. “I’ll bet you did. Here’s the thing. I need skilled workmen to make the changes happen. And materials.”
“Can’t you just…” He trailed off and ran a hand over the coppery stubble on his chin. “The Elliots pretty much have a monopoly on both those things here in Misty Bottoms, don’t they?”
“They do. Thus my problem.” She popped the last bite of the biscuit in her mouth and wished it had been bigger. Wiping her hands on a paper napkin, she said, “I’m not sure what to do.”
“And that’s why you’re not sleepin’.”
“One of the reasons.”
“Go see him. Talk to him.”
“Who?”
“Why, Beck, of course. Who else would I mean?”
“I don’t know. I can’t just—”
“Sure you can. He’s runnin’ a business, ain’t he? You’re a customer same as anybody else. Either just walk in, bold as brass, and place your order with one of the guys or go in and have a heart-to-heart with Beck. I think he’ll see reason.”
She sighed. “Oh, if only that were true.”
“You’ve seen The Godfather?”
“No.”
He stared at her. “You serious?”
“Afraid so. Should I have seen it?”
“Hell yes! Beg pardon. Yeah, you should have. There’s a line in there that’s the best ever written. Michael Corleone, you know, Al Pacino?”
Baffled, she shrugged.
Tommy shook his head sadly. “Anyway, he says…” Tommy cleared his throat and deepened his voice. “‘It’s not personal, Sonny. It’s strictly business.’ That’s what this is, Tansy. You know.” He waved a hand back and forth between them. “It’s business. What happened between the two of you—you and Beck—that’s personal. One shouldn’t get in the way of the other.”
She sent him a skeptical look.
“Trust me. It’ll all work out.”
“I sure hope so.” She wadded up the wrapper and napkin and tossed them in the wastebasket, refilled her coffee, and gave Tommy a hug. “Thanks.”
“Didn’t do nothin’.”
“You listened to my whinin’.”
“It was sharin’, not whinin’.” He grinned.
“Right.”
* * *
With food in her stomach and coffee in hand, Tansy felt better. The morning was fabulous, one of those days they write about in the tourist books on Georgia’s Low Country.
As she drove through the still-sleeping town, she rolled down her windows, let the fresh air blow her hair into a chaotic tumble, and smiled. The leaves on the trees had begun to turn, and she inhaled deeply. Nothing beat the smell of autumn, unless it was the smell of a baby right after her bath. She loved the four-year-old Gracie, but she missed that baby smell of lotion and powder and sweetness—had hoped to have more babies. One more loss for which she had no one but herself to blame.
And wouldn’t it be stupid to spoil this gorgeous day with sorrow for what she didn’t have? Instead, she’d celebrate what she did have, and that was a lot! Top of the list? Gracie Bella. Her mother, aunt, friends, and neighbors. A beautiful new home and a soon-to-be-open business.
She drove straight to the empty house at the end of Main and unlocked the door. It creaked as she opened it, but some WD-40 would fix that. Taking off her shoes, she meandered slowly through the rooms, the early morning sun splashing over the hardwood floors and her footsteps echoing in the empty space.
At the door to each room, she stopped, imagined it the way it would be. It nearly took her breath away. She was so close to her dream, so close to starting her new life here in Misty Bottoms with Gracie.
But none of it would happen without Beck’s help—or at least his cooperation.
Tommy’s advice replayed in her mind, and she knew he was right.
What she couldn’t come to grips with was why she’d even think she had the right to ask Beck for help. Hadn’t she shot his dreams out of the sky? Why, now, should he help make hers come true?
If this impacted only her, she’d be tempted to give up, but it didn’t. She wanted Gracie to grow up here in Misty Bottoms, and that meant it was time to suck it up, pull on her big girl panties, and take care of business.
* * *
Tansy marched into Elliot’s Lumberyard and practically dared anyone to stop her.
Beck had no legal right to block her from the store. No legal right to keep her from buying whatever she wanted as long as she paid for it.
Of course, what good would a pile of lumber and sheetrock do if she had no one to turn it into walls? She’d worry about that later—no, she wouldn’t. She’d worry about that right now.
It was time she remembered who she was, what she was. She was a Southern woman, and Southern women didn’t back down from a fight. They rolled up their sleeves and got to work, did whatever needed doing. And right now? That meant having a discussion with Mr. Elliot, the younger.
Oh God. Her heart might give out first.
Jeeters came around the corner, and Tansy swore she read the fight-or-flight argument in his eyes as they darted from one side to the other.
“How are you, Jeeters?”
He swallowed audibly. “I’m fine, Ms. Tansy. You?”
“I’m good. Is Beck in?”
“Umm…” He swallowed again.
His nervousness actually calmed her. “It’s all right. I promise we won’t kill each other. Is he in his office?”
He gave a quick little nod.
“Thanks.” With that, she breezed past him.
She didn’t bother to knock.
When she opened the door and stepped in, he jumped from his chair.
Softly closing the door behind her, she leaned against it.
“I’m busy, Tansy.”
“I’m sure you are. You’re workin’, and that’s what this visit is about.” Staring into those beautiful eyes, her courage slipped a notch. She went on quickly before she lost her last shred of nerve. “Here’s the deal, Beck. Like it or not, I’m buyin’ your grandpa’s house. He and I have agreed on it, and I’m just waiting to sign the papers.”
He grunted.
“Like Michael Corleone said, this is business. It’s not personal.” She’d paraphrased, but close enough.
Beck didn’t even blink. “Bullshit.”
“What?”
“I said bullshit. This thing between you and me?” He laughed derisively. “It’s always been personal. For me, anyway. If you need something, one of the guys out front can help you.”
“No, they can’t. Not with this.”
He tossed a pencil onto his desk and dropped into his chair. “This is exactly what I’ve been tryin’ to avoid. I can’t stop you from buyin’ Pops’s place, but I don’t have to like it. Despite that, I’ve gone out of my way to be polite, even invited you to dinner at my folks’. You turned me down. Seems you and me have nothin’ more to say to each other.”
Ouch.
Those midnight-blue eyes used to look at her as if no other woman existed. Now? Cold and distant. Her mouth was so dry, she wasn’t sure she could speak. She reached deep down inside for a new supply of courage and found a few last dregs. “I’m really sorry about the other night. I really was tired.”
“Again, bullshit.”
Switching tactics, she said, “I haven’t seen you around lately.”
“No. I’ve sent one of the guys when Kitty or Darlene or Dee-Ann or whoever the hell calls with some made-up excuse to get me to their place when you’re there.”
“They’re conspiring, aren’t they?”
“Bingo.”
“I had nothin’ to do with that.”
“I know. You looked as shell-shocked as I felt when I walked in—time after time.”
“I guess they mean well.”
He made a noncommittal sound.
“Here’s the thing,” she said. “I need work done at the house.”
“That house is in great shape.”
“I agree. But I need some remodeling done.”
“What you need is a different house. In a different town.”
“That being said.” She continued, ignoring his pique. “I thought you might be able to supply the name of some workers or”—she took another deep breath and clenched her hands together till her knuckles turned white—“maybe I could hire your company.”
The expression on his face had her searching for a hidey-hole. A trickle of sweat dampened the back of her cotton sweater. But she couldn’t back down. She’d never ever be able to do this a second time.
“In addition to workers, I’ll need materials. If you won’t or can’t help me, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
When he remained silent, she threw her last argument on the table.
“It doesn’t feel right fixin’ up an Elliot’s house with someone else’s material, but that’s what I’ll do if I have to. The choice is yours.”
He pushed up from his chair, and it crashed against the wall. “Shit! Some choice.”
“I know.”
“Do you? I’m so mad right now, I can’t see straight.”
“I live with a four-year-old, Beck. I’m used to tantrums.”
She saw in his eyes that she had pushed him too far. But he wouldn’t hurt her. Reminding herself of that as he slowly moved toward her, she took a step backward.
“Beck?” Her hand shot out, pressed against his chest.
He shrugged away. “Don’t touch me.”
“But—”
“Damn it, Tansy! You were my girl.” He reached out and pulled her off her feet, his mouth crushing hers in a kiss meant to punish.
Instead, she met it, beat for beat.
What felt like ages later, yet not nearly long enough, he released her as abruptly as he’d begun the kiss.
Barely able to breathe, she stared at him. “You know, you’re like a big old bucket of testosterone that’s so full it keeps sloppin’ over. Do you have a soft side at all?”
“Not anymore. When you’re ready to start destroyin’ Pops’s house, let me know. I’ll arrange things for you. Right now, I’ve got work to do.”
Message received, she scooted out the door, her lips and cheeks burning with his heat.
Neither of them had won that round.
* * *
Beck stood in the doorway and watched her go, watched that sleek body in the worn denims skedaddle out the front door. She used to live in jeans, but she rarely wore them anymore. Too bad, because a pair of jeans had never looked better.
Sighing, he leaned against the jamb and ran an embarrassingly shaky hand through his hair. What the hell had he been thinking to grab her like that, to kiss her till he’d nearly forgotten his own name?
Worse, she’d kissed him back, stoked fires never quite extinguished.
That kiss. It had been so long—too long. God, even in his anger, she’d tasted like a dream.
He’d loved that woman to distraction, and she’d left him with no warning. No chance to talk to her, to try to change her mind. With one tearful phone call, a huge chunk of his life broke off and crumbled. The most important chunk—that softer side she’d wondered about, the part that could trust and was free to love.
His fingers bit into the doorjamb as he tried to shake off the anger and hurt. He scanned the store his grandfather had built. The aisles, cluttered with everything a person could need to build, remodel, or renovate a house, had grown in number over the years as the business expanded. He’d moved their inventory to the computer despite his dad’s and Pops’s objections, which made it so much easier to keep track of supplies and orders.
A business this size couldn’t keep up if they didn’t step up. Inch by inch, he’d dragged the company into the twenty-first century.
Day in and day out, he worked hard to keep the business moving ahead, but he often wondered what would have happened if he’d gone to college with Tansy instead of staying here.
Would Tansy and Gracie Bella both be his?
How he wished.
* * *
After five solid minutes of starting at the wall, Beck called his grandfather. “You home?”
“Nope, I’m in the lumberyard’s parking lot. Came to talk. You got time?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Good. I’ve got coffee and a bag of doughnuts. Don’t tell your mother.”
Beck chuckled. “I won’t.”
Before he could clear the top of his desk, Pops walked in and dropped onto one of the chairs. Holding out a coffee and the doughnut bag, he looked around. “This place could stand a good cleanin’, son.”
“Guess it could.” Beck opened the bag and drew out a chocolate-frosted doughnut, then handed the bag back to his grandfather. “I doubt that’s what you came to talk about, though.”
“No, it’s not. We need to talk about Tansy and the house.”
“Are you sure you’re makin’ the right decision, Pops?”
“Sit down, Beck. Let me tell you a story.”
Beck sat.
Leaning back in his chair, Pops folded his hands over his stomach. “I loved your grandmother with all my heart. Always did, always will.”
“I know.”
“Did you know I almost didn’t marry the girl?”
“No.”
“I went to Atlanta for a few days and, when I came back, a friend told me Elsie had gone to the Saturday night dance with another man. I was heartbroken.”
“NeeNee did that?”
“She did.” He took a bite of his doughnut and washed it down with coffee. “When I went to her house and asked her about it, she admitted it straight out. Without waiting to hear any more, I told her we were finished. I wouldn’t be by again.”
Beck stared incredulously at his grandfather.
“Elsie looked at me with those same midnight-blue eyes you see in the mirror every day and said, ‘If that’s what you want, fine.’ Then she closed the door on me. Left me standin’ on the stoop.”
“But, Pops, you were in the right. I mean, if she went out with someone else…” Beck twisted his coffee cup in his hands.
“I certainly thought I was right. Thing is, I didn’t have all the facts. The man she went with? A cousin. He shipped out for Korea two days after the dance.”
“Why didn’t NeeNee tell you that?”
“I asked her that very question. She said she shouldn’t have had to. That I should have trusted her.” Pops reached into the bag for another doughnut. “And she was right. I never made that mistake again.”
Mulling over Pops’s story, Beck popped the last of his doughnut into his mouth. “I’m not sure exactly what that has to do with Tansy and me, with Tansy and the house. But I suspect you’re gonna tell me.”
His grandfather leaned forward in his chair, his coffee dangerously close to spilling. “One thing I’ve learned is that life isn’t always what you expect. The trick is to stay open to it, to the possibilities it offers.”
“Okay.”
“You and Tansy? Untapped possibilities if you pay attention.”
With that, he stood and walked out.
Possibilities. Not so very different than opportunities.
Hadn’t Tansy just walked in here and offered him one?