Chapter Five

“This is gross, Aunt Linney.” Paige pulled the cobweb from her hand after she had tugged on the thin chain to click on the overhead light.

“Nonsense. Dirt, stone, and few cobwebs down here now. Hmm…a bit crumbly,” she said, brushing her hand on the stone wall of the small basement. She found a pen in her pocket and jabbed at the wall. Then again at the plaster.

“Phew. Just the plaster between some stones. Easy fix. A few lights down here, a table, then doing laundry will be a dream.”

“I thought you said this works.” Paige had loaded the washing machine and tried a button.

“Sure. You just need the secret.” Her aunt jiggled the dials, reset to it normal wash, and wobbled the start button. It roared to life.

Paige hid her frustration but admitted to herself that she had moments of wistful flashbacks to the posh condo she’d come from with upgraded appliances. Shiny, quiet, functioning appliances. She purchased most of the stylish expensive furniture and left it all behind, all but a few tiny pieces. She had told herself to make sure to add that to the budget list the next time her ex asked for money. The ease of her old life compared starkly to what was presented to her now, particularly with each special twist the old house required. Still, she was starting to get the same itch as her aunt to fix everything encountered.

“Bet we could jerry rig a table with something from the wood over there,” Paige suggested.

Rather than replying, her aunt nodded and found a thick, three-foot long board. They stacked cinder blocks and put the board on top.

“There. Temporary folding table. Not bad.”

“Works for now,” Paige agreed. “It needs a plastic tablecloth. I think putting the laundry room up on the same floor as the bedrooms would be much better, though.” She started up the stairs, with her aunt following.

“Sure. Depends on a bunch of things. The condition of the floors, the rooms, the pipes, the cost…” Linney groaned.

“Okay, okay. I get the picture,” Paige said with home designs beginning to form in her mind.

They walked to the foyer where Michael had just ended his phone call.

“Plastic table cloth from the dollar store for now. Putting it on my list,” Paige called to Linney.

“That’s my girl,” Aunt Linney beamed.

“Actually, she’s mine,” Michael said.

“Share or you don’t get her,” Linney teased.

“How about mine for right now at least, since I do need to go soon.” Michael pulled Paige into a hug when her aunt left. “Hey, thanks for letting me take care of a few work things first.”

“I’m messy,” she objected to touching him.

“Hi, Messy. I’m Michael.” He kissed her lips. “Mmm. Not messy there.” He added a second and third kiss while she relaxed to his arms. He smiled.

“Flee, it looks like a slight change of plans. I need to go to Dallas pretty soon.”

“Dallas? All the way to Dallas?” Paige objected. “But I thought you were staying right in the area and were coming around in a couple days, or trying to at least.” Why was she acting this way? She hadn’t meant to sound needy but had bristled at the smiling ease at which he announced his travel plans.

“Serves you right for going to a place off the grid.” Michael might have been trying to elicit a smile, but she wasn’t having it. Paige couldn’t control it and actually pouted.

“C’mon Flee. I’ll be back at least by the weekend like I said.” He cupped her cheeks as she pouted.

“I know but…all the way to Dallas? I thought you were on a project.”

“In Dallas part of the time. I think I need to make it to Dushore, too. Who knows what other locations?”

“Great. The shore and Dallas. Well, see you when I can.” Paige pulled away and turned to her boxes still piled in the foyer for want of direction. Why was she behaving this way? She knew she needed to get a grip but couldn’t get over the fact that he was traveling far from her. Was he really a rebound?

“Look, I know I said I’d try to stay over, but this is crunch week and all the more so after that computer disaster.”

Paige still gave him the cold shoulder.

“All right, pouting one,” he said. “I’ll try to make it for a dinner or evening mid-week if it’s easy driving. I’ll only be forty or fifty minutes away. No promises though.”

Paige stopped pretending to sort. Her eyebrows knitted into a stumped expression. “Dallas, Texas?”

“What? No. I’m booked at an inn located in Dallas, Pennsylvania. I wish they could put me up closer to the plant, but it was easier for those flying in from out of state. I’m in the area, Paige.”

“Really?”

Michael nodded and smiled. “Dushore, PA. Dallas, PA. All around the area. Not that it matters, I’ll most likely be swamped. I’m still going to miss you, though.”

“I’m not going to miss you one tiny, little bit.” She tried to hide her smile.

“Oh?” Michael’s eyebrow shot up.

Paige shook her head. “Maybe I’ll miss several bits, though.” She hugged him, kissed his cheek, and her hands moved lower on the softness of his sweater. “And some of those bits are quite large.” One hand squeezed his firm lower cheek.

Both eyebrows shot up. He curled his arms around her. “What am I going to do with you, Flee?”

“Ahem. Nothing at the moment,” Aunt Linney interjected. “You already did enough earlier. You two nearly shook the house down. Not to mention we’re a half day behind, and I have work tomorrow. So, get ready and shoo.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael said.

They stepped apart, Paige with an audible huff. She watched Michael gather his small overnight satchel and computer bag and put them by the door.

“And don’t come back without wine or goodies.” Aunt Linney offered her hand to shake. “Safe travels, Michael Yotahala Lukas with a K.”

He took her hand and then grabbed her for a hug.

She smiled widely. “Cut that out or you will make Paige jealous. And she’ll get all Southern on you.”

Michael turned to Paige. “You will?” he asked, moving to the porch.

She nodded with a look of fake determination. “Southern and all the other directions on you. All over you.” Paige kissed him on the lips.

Aunt Linney grunted.

Paige waved off her aunt. Linney took the hint.

“Ignore her. Here’s one for the road.” Paige handed him a travel mug of coffee. “And here’s one really for the road.” She kissed him, openmouthed. It was a deep, moaning kiss.

“Bye, now. Drive safe,” she said and closed the door on a stunned Michael.

Paige brushed her hands together. “There. Got all Southern on him. That should tide him over.”

Knock. Knock.

Paige opened the door. “Why did you knock?”

“The doorbell doesn’t work.” Michael said.

Paige just groaned at the old joke.

He pressed the bell again. “No, it really doesn’t work.”

“I’ll put it on the fix-it list,” her aunt called from the living room.

Michael reached toward Paige. She closed her eyes for another kiss. Instead, he picked up his satchel and computer bag. She sighed. Just when she gave up on one last kiss and thought he was leaving, he pulled her in, holding her tightly to his broad chest.

“Soon, Flee.” He kissed her again, plunging his tongue into her mouth, grinding his hips against hers, moaning until she let out a soft whimper of need. It was only then that he released her and walked to his car with bags in hand.

“Umm,” was all that came to Paige’s tingling lips.

“Michael, the name’s Michael.” He beamed. “Thanks for the amazing birthday and beyond, Amelia Paige Myers. Get some work on the house done.”

“You, too. I mean, your work, not the house, and rest up,” she called after him.

He nodded. “Text me if you ever get a signal. Better yet, get some Wi-Fi.”

He stared at Paige and slid into his car. Something in his expression dripped sincerity. It told her he’d return. He had to.

Neither said the words lovers say. He waved before driving off, without fishtailing even once. She looked longingly after him, and it had nothing to do with how well his car hugged the road.

****

“Yup. Got all southern on him,” Paige admitted breathlessly, “but then he got all Michael on me. Jury’s out on who won.”

Her aunt ushered Paige inside and closed the door. “You both would have given heart attacks to many of the country folk around here if they saw you. Some people around here get married before they give each other more than a shake and a nod.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Didn’t say what was shaking or nodding.”

That made Paige chuckle. “Well, now, Auntie, you still have it going on.”

“Oh hush. You know it got up and went,” her aunt said but smiled in return.

“Well, you’re going to get it back if I have anything to do with it.” Paige looked at the tightly packed living room and sighed at the overwhelming task ahead. It looked like a paper storage warehouse filled with trash in between. She resigned herself to the task and clicked on a radio near the room entrance. She jiggled the old dial, turned up the music, and began to dance to the oldie.

“Get in here with your dancing self. Besides sorting, we need to tie up these newspapers to bring to the road. Recycling is tomorrow— Where you going? Big help you are.” Her aunt started to measure lengths of twine.

“I am a big help. I saw an old cart in the garage. I’m getting it so we can make the trips easier. Why not make the tasks more fun?”

Linney grunted. “No, you’re not getting it.”

“Am, too.”

“No, you’re not. I am. I have boots on,” Aunt Linney said, grinning. “Good idea, dirty dancer.”

“Dirty?” Paige turned to see her bottom had brushed against something dark and had a thick stripe across it. “You might be right, but I think I took after you.”

Linney’s backside was just as bad if not worse. The offending object causing the stains went straight into the garbage.

Soon, they figured out the best rhythm. With music blaring, they bagged garbage and began tying papers into bundles. Only a few selected items went into a box to be saved for further inspection later. They stacked newspaper bundles on the cart with wobbly wheels and, from there, wheeled it to the door and put the paper stacks on the porch. Linney would later simply fill her car and trunk with recycling to place them curbside. The efficiency of the process made both Dornheim women smile. It did more than that. It helped Linney open up.

Paige had already known of Uncle Roger and the fairly recent divorce. What she didn’t know was that Linney had a short, previous marriage back when Paige’s mother was still in high school. Nor did Paige know of Linney’s early-day travels as she called them. All of it came out as they made their way through the dusty hours of de-hoarding part of the living room.

“Sturgis? You were at Sturgis?”

“Sure.” Linney took a swig of root beer. “That was with Steve. No. Bob? I forget. Don’t tell your mother.”

“That you went on a motorcycle with some guy to a motorcycle rally?!”

“No. That I forgot his name. She knows I went to the rally. Gotta have someone to tell so that in case things go wrong…”

“My mom was there?”

“No, Paige, Not-So-Sage. I just kept in touch with her. Can you see your mom on a cycle? Ha!”

Paige couldn’t picture it either. “So, Auntie, who was your favorite?”

“My favorite what?” Linney hoisted another bundle of crumbling papers onto the cart.

“Your favorite man. No, make it your favorite love. The one.” Paige must have hit a nerve. Her aunt stopped and shrugged.

“Was it Roger?” Paige asked quietly.

“Might have been apart from my youth.”

Something didn’t sit right. It didn’t seem to be Roger. The way her aunt answered, though, Paige knew to change the subject and mood. “Well, maybe it’s time you get a new favorite.”

“Yeah, right.” She looked at her niece. “Oh hon, I don’t mean to be cynical, but look at me. Maybe my time has come and gone. You’re young. Your turn to go explore, and from the looks of Oneida man, you are doing just that. Good for you.” Linney pushed the full cart to the door, as if to signal an end to the conversation.

Paige would have none of it. “You’re still a sexy woman under all that gruffness. Just lose the gruff.”

“Ha! And several pounds. Did you know I was skinny as a rail and could eat anything back when? Sort of like you.”

“Aww, thanks, Auntie. I sort of like you, too.” Paige left the room to transfer the laundry before her aunt could throw anything at her.

****

The living room was cleared to actually more than just a tunnel between antique and random furniture pieces. It had some space. It had a desk. Progress.

Paige sifted through the box of appliances in the kitchen to find her favorite lamp. She and her aunt struggled to unearth a second task chair so working desks could be available both downstairs and in Paige’s makeshift bedroom. Very rudimentary, all of it but functional. By the end of the day, both women felt good but filthy. Linney claimed the shower first.

Paige returned to the kitchen in search of her displaced underthings to bring up to her room when she noticed the house phone. A land line, and it was up for grabs! No issues with lack of signal with that.

After leaving a quick voice message to Michael, Paige took the opportunity to give her mom a much-needed call. They shared stories of the weekend, at first keeping everything about Michael on a mild, mom’s need-to-know basis. There was no way to explain her intense feelings for him after such a short period of time. Perhaps it was being locked away with him in an ice storm as practically strangers or how unexpectedly gallant he had been in helping her transition to where she was to live now. Paige instead deflected the conversation to the appalling state of the house and Linney’s baking, which also happened to be appalling. Paige made promises to send photos, of the house, not the brownies.

“Why not?”

“I grated off the burnt parts, and we ate them. Just about all of them. They softened nicely in tea or coffee.” Paige dunked the last bite in her tea, as if in demonstration. It still crunched somewhat. Then, still sitting in the warm kitchen, tea in hand, her own mixer, pans and appliances jammed in cabinets, others stacked to the side, she felt a pang, at least for the ease of her formal lifestyle.

“Mom, do you realize less than a week ago, I was working, capable, and organized? Now my things are strewn, in halls, jammed in a tiny bedroom with peeling wallpaper or on a broken desk, held up by books. I have no idea what I am doing with my life other than prepping rooms for renovation and wanting to be with Michael.” She realized her error in admitting the importance of Michael to her mother. It didn’t help that her fingers were toying the cloth of one of her panties.

“Before you say anything,” she continued, “I know you think it’s too fast, but it’s like we skipped the simple dating and went to…to…well… something else. I like Michael, and just trust me, he is someone special.” Before her mother could answer, she spilled more. “I feel younger around him, though. He helps out so much. I let him take care of me. Well, not at first…but oh…he’s so under my skin. It’s not my MO. Back in the condo, I was always the responsible one. I had to take care of everyone, including Davis’s friends.” She finally took a breath.

In the pause, her mother carefully answered, “I know that, honey. You still are responsible. I think you’re surprisingly together, especially with what you just went through, moving out. That Davis Greer was less than mature. We both know that. This Michael sounds driven and maybe able to pull his own weight? You might have met your match. At least that’s what Linney said.” It had been her mother’s turn to reveal too much.

Paige nearly shouted, “You talked to her about Michael?” She waved about her purple lacy panties.

“Of course, I did, sweetheart. She’s my big sister and a curmudgeon, spy, horrible baker, super nurse, dear friend, slave driver—all of those things wrapped into one person. All I can say is that it’s good to know Michael’s staying out of the house for a few days so you can get more settled.”

“Settled? I have no clue what I’m doing, just tackling sections of this dilapidated mess. Shouldn’t I be out looking for a serious job?” Paige looked at the panties she held, then returned them to the lingerie pile. “Where the heck am I going to live after this?” She picked up the stack of undies and, with the phone held to her ear, began stomping up the stairs. “And don’t you dare say back home with you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, actually.”

“What?” She stopped mid-step. As much as Paige didn’t want to return home, she suddenly felt even more uprooted by that comment.

“Oh, that didn’t come out right. We welcome you home, but you need to continue out on your own and finish inventing yourself. Look, Paige, you’re on a break, a detour for a bit. Consider it a vacation from work when you’re doing other things.”

Paige nodded in a mumbled agreement, continuing up the stairs.

“You’ll adjust there, and my sis will adjust to you. It’s not a forever place for you but make your home while you two are making it habitable. Carve out a space there first. You didn’t need me to tell you any of that, I bet.”

“No, I guess not, Mom.” Paige took in the look of her meager dilapidated bedroom. “I guess I can find a department store and maybe fix up my temporary room a notch above mere functioning. It really is a squatter-packed mess in most rooms here. I’ll send pics when I get to a Wi-Fi spot.”

“No rush. And Paige, it’s really not just about that house. Your aunt really was scarred by Roger, you know. In the short time you’ve been there, it sounds like you got her to laugh. I think she needs you more than she lets on.”

“I hear you.”

“One more thing, honey, remember to buy a mop with the scrubber on it and those bigger work gloves. Wouldn’t hurt if you bought a few new buckets and a solid wallpaper scrapper.”

“Thanks, Mom, for not babying me.”

“Babying? I’m just helping. Remember to floss and—”

“Eat my vegetables. Right. Love you. Grown Up Paige signing off.”

Paige hung up with a bright smile just in time to hear her aunt scream from the hall, “Shower’s yours!”

Paige found her aunt’s things accidentally left behind in the bathroom. It included underthings surprisingly lacier than expected and a leopard print bra. “More secrets, eh, Auntie?” She knocked on her aunt’s room. She opened the door, and Paige gasped. The room was stunning in a deep violet with light blonde furniture and an iron rail bed frame painted a buttery off-white. Different but charming. “Wow. Looks great!”

“Thanks. I kind of like my hair up in a bun, too.”

“I meant the room.”

Her aunt grinned. “I know you did, but I gotta get those compliments when I can. Planning on keeping those or can I have them back?”

Paige looked down and quickly handed the clothing to her grinning aunt. “Phone’s yours. Mom’s free.”

“I’ll call her some other time. I work in the morning, so it’s reading time for me. By the way, thanks for coming to help, Paigey. G’night.” She closed the door before Paige said another word. She got the hint and then some. Maybe she wasn’t so different from her aunt, after all. Not as brusque perhaps, but she loved her private time, too, especially reading.

After a shower, Paige padded her way down the cluttered hallway to what was now her room. She looked at the disheveled mess and felt a pang. Strangely, it was for Michael and not for her old life.

Reaching for her lamp, she noticed Michael had left the Boogle set open on top of her dresser. He spelled out letters in the box top “U R SPECIAL TO ME.”

She pulled out her cell and texted, “So are you, Groundhog Man. Thank you for the note.”

The signal was not strong enough to send. Somehow, she thought he knew. Michael was under her skin and close to her heart. Special didn’t come close to covering it. Did he feel the same as she did? He must. She knew they both felt a powerful draw to each other, one that needed to continue. What that draw was, they dare not say. Not so soon.

When she turned in, Paige inhaled the scent of the towel and folded sheets that served as her pillow. They smelled slightly of Michael. She slept alone but didn’t feel it at all. In the haze of near sleep, she sent a wish for her aunt to be open to feeling the same way again.