8
My mother had slipped into Shelley’s Heart while I’d driven Peeps back. The aroma of the coffee I’d brewed earlier and the scent of the breakfast casserole she’d already placed in the oven made my mouth water.
“Up and out already? My, but you seem in better spirits.” She laughed. “This place must be good for you.”
I fixed a cup of coffee and sat at the table to help her slice fresh fruit and arrange it on a platter.
“It’s this wonderful place. Scott offered me a job here.” I watched her face for some sign of her opinion.
“What kind of job? Wait. Don’t tell me; they want you to run the place. What a great idea. It will give you some great experience while Pinewood is updated. What did you tell them?”
“I said I’d think about it—pray about it actually. And I have. I decided to offer to stay on through the fall, just to see how it goes. Scott says he can’t pay anything but room and board. I think I can make it with what Gran left me and still have money to start repairs at the house. I’m sure Mandy and Macy will understand. They expected I’d move out when Gran’s was ready, anyway.”
We set the breakfast table with the freshly washed linens and prepared decaf coffee for the Wilsons. We didn’t have to wait long.
The two sleepyheads padded into the kitchen, surely led by their noses. My mom’s casserole smelled scrumptious. They sat down, eager to partake.
“Bailey, I can’t tell you how happy I was to find Jan Karon’s newest book on the nightstand. I had to resist so Mark wouldn’t feel ignored. But while he gets some fishing in this afternoon, I’m going to curl up and read.” Mary took a sip of coffee with an expression that made me think she’d found the fountain of youth.
“I promised to take her window shopping in Marshall this morning though. We’ll be back in plenty of time for me to go fishing.”
While the Wilsons lingered over their breakfast, I took Mom out to see the prayer garden.
“Oh, Bailey, this is beautiful.” She gasped with delight. “You could really have a prayer journey here,” she whispered, as if she were already praying.
“I already have. Mr. West brought me here early this morning, and in his way, asked me to pray for Scott. He said Scott is sad.”
“When will we be seeing the West men?”
“Scott will be by this afternoon to take Mark fishing. If you can stay that long, maybe you’ll get to see them.”
~*~
Darryl’s ringtone buzzed in my jeans pocket. No way was I going to answer that call. What could he possibly want except to grouse because he and his lover couldn’t get back into my house? Just seeing his name made the clouds descend, polluting the freedom and heart health I was beginning to experience. I punched the ignore button. He left a voice mail. I debated for a moment then decided not to listen to it.
Scott and Peeps showed up in the early afternoon before the Wilsons returned from town. My mother greeted both men with a cheerful hug and a big smile. Peeps and Mom hit it off. She seemed to understand him.
“Thanks for coming to help out today,” Scott said. “Bailey is doing a wonderful job taking care of our guests. It’s done Dad and me a world of good to have some life back in this place.” He beamed at me.
My heart did a flip.
“It’s done her a world of good; I can tell you that,” Mom said.
Scott grinned at me. His eyes could only be described as hopeful. I looked forward to telling him that I planned to stay at least through the fall. Now was as good a time as any, but we were interrupted by the Wilsons’ return.
Scott and Mark gravitated to the kitchen while Mom and I listened to Mary talk about the shops she’d visited. I noticed she had no purchases, and I silently prayed for Mark’s job situation.
The men came back into the living room offering up a plate of cookies.
Peeps declined. He looked a little pale.
“We had the most wonderful tour of an historic home this morning,” Mary said. “The most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,”
Marshall was full of antebellum homes that were part of a tour run by the Chamber of Commerce. Gran participated in Texas History Week and the Christmas Tour of Homes every year. She loved decorating the house for the holidays, swirling around in her green period gown, offering refreshments. After she died, I didn’t have the heart to decorate the place. Someday I had hoped to live there with my own husband and family and possibly open a bed-and-breakfast. Then I’d open it at Christmas for a tour. But the husband part wasn’t going to happen.
“It was the grand opening of a place called Pinewood Manor,” Mary said, interrupting my self-pity party. “Spectacular. People all over the place.”
“Pinewood Manor?” My heart dropped into my stomach. “Are you sure?”
She fished around in her purse for a brochure. On the cover was Gran’s house, in all its glory, complete with admission fees and hours printed below. I looked at my mother.
“Mr. Tedford did change the locks, right?” I asked her, my heart pounding in my chest. The brochure said the tour was owned and operated by Graham Properties.
“Anything wrong?” Scott asked.
Speechless with anger, I found I couldn’t move.
“Pinewood Manor was my mother’s home,” Mom said. “It now belongs to Bailey. We didn’t approve this. I can’t imagine how this happened.”
An awkward silence filled the next few moments. Lost in a storm of thoughts, I tried to figure out how Darryl managed to get back in and concoct this scheme without so much as a word. Is that what all those missed calls were about?
I excused myself and went upstairs to the Adirondack Room. I grabbed my phone and hit the voice mail button.
“Very clever changing the locks, Bailey. Did you think you could keep us out? I’ll overlook the offense this time, but any further steps against us will be reported as harassment. At least you aren’t my problem anymore. I tried to make something of you.” The message ended.
I sat on the bed in stark disbelief, feeling so sick I couldn’t stand up or even think. I couldn’t understand the gall and pride that would make Darryl Graham think that he could take over my house and show it to the public without my permission. I had to get to Pinewood Manor and confront him.
I managed to get down the stairs to find everyone talking quietly.
“Bailey, I hate to run out after all your hard work for us,” Mark said. “A friend of mine just called with a possible job opening at the plant where he works. I want to be there first thing tomorrow morning and see if I can get it.”
“Of course you should go.” My voice sounded weak, and I tried to shake myself out of my stunned stupor. I gave them both a hug.
“Please keep in touch,” was all I could manage to say. I walked into the kitchen. My mother followed, Scott behind her.
“Honey, are you all right?” Mom put her arms around me. “This is some kind of crazy mistake. We’ll go to town and confront him. Or call our lawyer or something.”
“Yes, confront him. But I’ll go alone,” I stammered. I didn’t want my mother to see me unleash my rage on Darryl.
“Alone? You aren’t in any shape to drive,” Mom said.
“I’ll drive her,” Scott said. “Don’t worry. Mrs. Brown, would you see the Wilsons off and stay here with my dad? Bailey might need my help.”
“Of…course,” she replied.
Scott held my hand as we left the house. He opened the door to his truck.
“Pray, pray, pray,” entered my thoughts. Peeps’s voice in my head calmed me down a bit. What in the world was I going to do?
We drove to town silently. I prayed and took deep breaths, trying to regain my composure.
“There must be a reasonable explanation for this,” Scott said. “I don’t know how anyone could make a mistake this big, but you’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“My ex, Darryl Graham,” I said. “He did it. I used to work for him.” I couldn’t breathe.
Scott reached for my hand again. The sympathy in those sea-blue eyes encouraged me to tell him the awful truth.
“I found him there in the arms of another woman, a new employee. Former Miss Texas.” I broke down.
He pulled over while I cried. He reached across my lap to fish around in the glove box, pulled out a little package of tissues, and handed it to me. I took them and tried to calm myself. I completely dissolved in front of this man I hardly knew.
“What do you want to do, Bailey?” he asked.
“Confront him, tell him to leave my house. If he won’t, I’ll have to go to the police. Sneaking around with his girlfriend there is one thing. Opening the house up to the public and charging admission is another. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.” I dissolved again.
Scott scooted close and put his arm around me. It gave me strength. He bowed his head. “Father, I come to You in the name of Jesus, asking You to give Bailey direction in this struggle. I pray that she’ll regain control of her property without trouble. Show me the best way to help her. Please calm her and strengthen her.”
“Thanks. Thanks so much.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t know what I was walking into, but I wasn’t alone. I breathed a prayer of gratitude for that.
We drove on to Pinewood Manor. Cars cluttered the lawn and people milled around everywhere.
“I don’t understand. How could he do this?” I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Scott jumped out of the truck and jogged around to the passenger side. He opened the door and held out his hand to me.
“Come on. Let’s go see what this is all about.” He gently pried my hand off the door handle.
The front door of Pinewood Manor stood wide open. My grandmother’s antique oak library table had been pulled into the foyer and served as a ticket table. A young man sat at the table and greeted us.
“Welcome to Pinewood Manor. You’re invited to look around the house. The ticket is five dollars.” He grinned a fake smile and tore off a ticket from a large red roll. “There will be a drawing at the end of the weekend for a free stay when Pinewood Manor opens as a bed-and-breakfast.”
My mouth dropped open. “But—” I started.
Scott stepped in. “We’re not here for the tour.” He took my hand and we walked past the desk. “It’s all right,” he said. “Let’s see what he’s done to the place before you confront him. Why don’t you take some pictures with your cell phone, starting with that ticket table?”
I snapped some pictures of things that were out of place. Something seemed missing, but in my disbelief, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I stared at the fireplace in the great room. I suddenly realized that all the family pictures were missing. Gran had the fireplace mantel covered with pictures of my mother and me, as well as herself and my grandfather. I wondered what he’d done with them.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered to Scott. He nodded.
“Are you all right?” he whispered as we ascended the staircase. We weren’t halfway up when Darryl came out of one of the upstairs bedrooms and descended the stairs toward us. He flinched when saw me, but immediately regained his usual, cool composure.
“Bailey, I’m glad you came. The place is a big hit. The community is salivating to finally have this place on the tour of homes,” he said, a little too enthusiastically. Did he really think I’d congratulate him?
“I…I don’t understand,” I began. “What made you think you could do this?”
“Oh please, don’t tell me you don’t remember.” He blinked rapidly, straightening his tie yet stretching his neck as though the tie choked him.
“Remember what?” I raised my voice. “Remember that you brought your lover to my house while we were engaged?”
“Lower your voice, Bailey. Half the city council is here. Let’s go into the library where we can talk. Who is this, your bodyguard?” He passed us going down the stairs, turning his shoulder away from Scott in mock fear.
I didn’t answer, and Scott remained silent. He took my arm as we walked back down the stairs and turned down the hall to the library. I happened to catch Scott’s expression as we rounded the corner. He glared at Darryl. The blue in his eyes shone with frozen fire.
Darryl closed the library door behind us. Scott and I stood on one side of the room and Darryl on the other.
“What is the meaning of this? We’re no longer a couple, and I no longer work for you. Sneaking in here with Phoebe was bad enough. Where is she, by the way? Shouldn’t she be hosting your illegal event?” I expected she’d make a grand entrance at this point, taking Darryl’s arm in triumph.
“Hmph. Useless fluff.” He straightened his tie again and then snapped his wrist up to look at his watch. “I have guests. Can’t this wait?”
“Guests? You are all trespassing. I don’t understand why or how you took over in such a public way, without my permission. I don’t even want to know. Just get out. No, first put everything back the way it was, then get out.” My voice climbed with each word I spoke. “I had the locks changed. How did you get in here?”
“Clueless as always, my dear. It’s all quite legal. I only had to show the deed to my locksmith to have them changed again. Don’t you remember signing those papers a few weeks ago?” He crossed his arms and looked my way, but not directly into my eyes.
“What? I signed a simple power of attorney for you. It had nothing to do with Pinewood Manor.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t remember signing the quitclaim deed as well. You said it was a wedding gift.” He craned his neck again against his collar and swallowed.
If this was all so legitimate, why was he so nervous?
“You’re lying. I would never have given this house to you. Never. There is no quitclaim deed, and we are not getting married. Save yourself a court battle. Shut down this event immediately and get out.” Both my hands fisted beside me. My heart pounded in my chest. I took a step toward Darryl, but Scott put his hand on my shoulder. I stopped, but shook with anger.
“Poor thing. Do you want the whole world to know that the chubby little lady tried to keep her boyfriend by giving him a house?” Darryl spoke with a whimper in his voice, mocking me. “They all know we were engaged. You pathetic, pitiful thing. If you try to sue me, I’ll go public about how you acted to try to keep me.” He fingered the ridiculously expensive watch that I had given him for his birthday. “That you couldn’t compete with the beautiful woman who came to work for us, and so you groveled on your belly like a pig, begged me to stay with you, and signed over the house to me.” His face twisted into a confident smirk.
Scott sprang toward Darryl and grabbed him by the collar. He readied his fist to strike.
Darryl covered his face against a blow that didn’t happen.
Scott glared at him a few seconds and then tossed him onto the couch.
“Now I can add attempted assault to your embarrassment.” Darryl rose and headed for the door, rubbing his throat as though Scott had injured him. “Drop it, Bailey. Fighting me will do you no good.” He held the door open and pointed us out with a sharp nod of his head.
I stopped at the secretary and tried to open it to retrieve some very precious things. Locked.
“What is it?” Scott asked.
“My grandmother’s Bible, journals, photo albums…and a little box with a letter inside. I don’t want to leave them here. I never knew it to be locked. I don’t know where the keys are,” I said, crying again.
“Let’s get out of here for now.” He whisked me quickly out to the truck. “Do you have a lawyer?”
Trembling with anger, I had to think a minute. “Gran had one. Jim Ballard did all her legal work for her.”
“Let’s go and you can call him from the car. Sorry I lost my temper. I couldn’t stand the way he talked to you.”
“I suppose I should thank you. But I’m afraid it may backfire. You can see he’s the kind of person who won’t let that go by. But thanks anyway.”
Darryl was right about one thing. I might have begged if he’d given me half a chance. I’d existed in such a state of low self-esteem that losing him knocked the floor out from under me.
I couldn’t imagine what Scott thought of me now.
Jim Ballard’s voicemail stated he was on vacation. I left an urgent message for him to call me.
Scott suggested stopping by the notary’s office where I’d signed the power of attorney. “I think they keep a log of transactions.”
We pulled up in front of the building. An “Office Space for Rent” sign hung on the door. I put my hand over my mouth and shook my head. That couldn’t be good. Scott grasped the steering wheel with white knuckles. His lips pressed together.
“Stay here.” He got out of the truck and sprinted to the office door, first knocking and then jiggling the door handle. He stood there a moment, peering into the window. He turned and shook his head.
He slid back into the car and put his hand on my shoulder. “There’s not a stick of furniture or a stray piece of paper in the place.”