“AND YOU DON’T even bother to call your own mother?” Maeve’s mom asked Sunday morning as half a dozen people showed up at the Culpepper house.
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“Do you see my work clothes?” Renie Lorei was wearing faded jeans and an oversize flannel shirt over a black insulated one. She had on scuffed boots and a black knit hat that couldn’t quite contain her mane of hair. Maeve had watched her mom’s hair color fade over the years. She assumed hers would take the same route. That was okay with her because the gray had faded to straight-up white. It looked beautiful.
“Herm’s in his, too,” her mother said. “We’re here to work, obviously. Honey, you could give lessons in discretion to a Carmelite nun.”
Maeve didn’t understand the reference and it must have shown, because her mother explained. “They take a vow of silence.”
“Oh. I wasn’t not saying anything for a reason. Everything at the house has happened so fast. I thought it was going to be a solo project and then Aaron came on board, and next thing I know, people are showing up.” She still couldn’t believe the crowd. “When I came up with this idea, I didn’t realize how much work the house was going to take. Aaron said it has a solid structure. Well, that may be, but everything else is a mess. How did you find out?”
“Finn and Mattie mentioned it at church. I like the idea of working in shifts. Herm and I signed up from now until the cows need to be milked, so point me in a direction.”
“They’re tearing down drywall in the bedrooms.”
“Tearing down is so much easier than putting up, so I’m there.” Her mother stopped and kissed her cheek. “You’re a very good person, Maeve. Your father would be so proud.”
Her mom rarely mentioned her father and Maeve felt herself tear up.
“He was a good man,” her mother continued, “but he was a proud man. He never asked anyone for anything. Not even me. He’d rather work outside all day in subzero weather, than let me help. Pride can be a good thing, Maeve, but there’s nothing wrong with accepting help. There’s also nothing wrong with asking for help. Next time, pick up the phone and call me and Herm.”
“I will, Mom. I’m hoping I can get this set up so we can do one house a year. Then there will be plenty of opportunities to help.”
Her mother kissed her cheek. “Well, I’m off to start.”
Maeve watched as her mom joined everyone else in tearing down the drywall.
“You’ve got a lot of friends,” Aaron said, startling Maeve.
“Valley Ridge is a special town. I love how everyone’s pitching in to help Josie and Boyd. They’re practically strangers here, and yet the whole town’s taken them under its wing,” she said.
Aaron shook his head. “That’s part of it, but mainly, they’re here for you.”
Maeve kept silent and shrugged.
“What do you do for fun?” Aaron asked.
“I’m going to a wedding next weekend, so we’ll have to work around that. Everyone in town will be there.”
“Lily’s, right?” Aaron asked.
“Right.”
“I got an invitation. Well, Uncle Jerry did. But she asked me to come in his place.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Lily’s great.”
“She seems very nice. The only problem is I don’t know anyone in Valley Ridge, other than you.”
Maeve shook her head. “Sure you do. You know Finn now, and there’s Colton and Sebastian and...”
“I’ve met them, but I know you.” Aaron liked the idea of seeing Maeve doing something fun. He’d seen her working at the library, working to put on a Thanksgiving meal, working here. Would she be different in a fun situation?
“No, you’ve seen me more than you’ve seen them, and you’re trying to figure me out, but that doesn’t mean you know me.”
He ignored her comment and asked, “So will you go with me? I feel like a kid passing you a note back in grade school and asking you to check yes or no.”
“Not as a date, right?” she asked.
“Right. We’ll just be two friends who are going to the same place so decided to go together. You’d save me from feeling awkward.” Maeve might not think he knew her, but he knew enough to realize that she’d find it hard to say no to helping him out.
“Fine. If you’d passed me a note, I’d check the yes box. The wedding’s at two. Pick me up at one-thirty.”
“Got it.”
Aaron thought about hanging around her longer, but she was swept away by the bride-to-be and Mattie from the coffee shop. He went back to taking the drawers out of the kitchen cupboard. He unscrewed the backs of the handles and put them in a box. They’d decided to paint the cupboards—or rather, Maeve had. She might have trouble imagining what the house would look like when the mess was cleaned up, but she had definite opinions on what she wanted it to look like when—if—Josie and Boyd moved in.
The old white kitchen cupboards would have a fresh coat of paint on them. She’d declared the old farm sink was back in vogue and that old soapstone counters were, as well. All they needed was a good oiling.
It was nine o’clock that night before the last person cleared out. Maeve surveyed the kitchen and he could sense she was pleased.
“We might get this done after all,” she said.
“I told you so,” Aaron said, trying not to feel too smug.
“Vince is an electrician and he said he’d work after hours throughout the week, and TJ said the same about the plumbing. We can’t work Saturday because of the wedding, but we can put up the drywall on Sunday. And I have the first coat of plaster on the holes and cracks out here...”
Aaron listened as she outlined her plans. She was back to her glowing optimism.
“I talked to my lawyer,” he said. “He gave me the name of someone in Buffalo. I know you keep the library open most evenings, but is there any chance that you can take Wednesday night off? We can meet him at four, and then maybe go out to dinner or something afterward if you’d like.”
At first, he thought she was going to say no to dinner, but she agreed. “If you’ll let it be my treat.”
“But—”
“No arguments,” she scolded, teasingly shaking her finger at him. “You gave me a house. I get to buy you dinner.”
“I didn’t buy you a house, I donated it to...” He stopped and nodded. “Yes, you can buy me dinner.”
“Great. It’s a date.”
“It’s not a date,” he agreed.
“I know, my dark, mysterious man. You’re not in a position to date, though you’re not overly forthcoming about why. For a man who wants to know all my secrets, you’re not very good at sharing.” She was smiling and he realized that she was teasing. “Thank you for everything, Aaron. You’re a good man.”
He shook his head. He was anything but that.
He insisted on walking her home, and afterward he went into his makeshift office in his uncle’s apartment. He’d made a desk out of a small card table that he kept his printer on.
A stack of forwarded mail was piled in front of the keyboard.
He sat down and picked it up. He looked at the top envelope and knew what was in it, but he made no move to open it.
Before he’d met Maeve, he might have simply pushed the envelope to the back of his desk and forgotten about it. But since he’d met her, things had changed.
Maybe he was changing.
He wasn’t sure how.
He wasn’t sure why.
He put the envelope back down, unopened, but he left it where he could see it.
* * *
MAEVE GOT HOME from work on Wednesday, went into the house, took a shower and tried to decide what to wear.
It felt odd not to go to the library and open it up for the after-school kids.
She felt as if she were going on a date...only this wasn’t that. This was meeting with a lawyer, then dinner. Dinner between friends, or, at least friendly allies.
She didn’t have a clue how to dress.
She pulled out half a dozen tops, and then discarded them in a pile on her bed.
She wanted something that said, competent businesswoman.
She looked at the pile and finally pulled out a plain white blouse, a black cardigan and a pair of black pants.
She dressed and looked in a mirror.
She looked as if she was on her way to a funeral.
She glanced at the clock and realized Aaron would be there any minute, so she ripped off the cardigan and pulled out a kelly-green one. She took her mountain of hair and wrapped it into a loose bun.
Good enough for a meeting and dinner—a dinner that wasn’t a date.
She was zipping up her black leather boots when Aaron pulled up in a SUV.
She grabbed a coat and hurried outside.
Josie stuck her head out of the RV. “Don’t forget your curfew,” she called, teasing.
“Don’t forget you’re supposed to be a bed-bound, or at least couch-bound mother-to-be.”
Josie was still laughing as she shut the door.
“She seemed happy,” Aaron said as Maeve got into the SUV.
“I couldn’t tell her about the attorney, so I just said we were going out for dinner. I assured her it wasn’t a date, but Josie lives in a world where losing your home might be a good thing. She believes in fate and angels. She probably believes in Santa Claus. Nothing I said could convince here this was anything but a date.” She shrugged. “I don’t want you to think I made it out to be more than it was.”
“It’s okay, Maeve. I wouldn’t think that. Half the time I’m still not sure you even like me.”
“Half the time, neither am I,” she assured him, half joking, half serious.
He took the comment for a joke and laughed. She learned something she’d suspected since Riddlefest—he had a sense of humor and a contagious laugh. She couldn’t not join in.
Aaron’s laughter broke the sense of awkwardness she’d felt when she got in the car.
They talked about the house, the foundation and the holidays.
And when they got to the attorney’s office, they talked about the same things again with him.
When they left his office an hour later, Maeve admitted, “I don’t think I’ll remember half of what he said tomorrow. I don’t think I have a head for business.”
“That’s okay, I do, and he does. He’s done this kind of thing before. He’ll make sure our i’s are dotted and our t’s are crossed.”
“So, this is really going to happen.” It was a statement. Not a question any longer. Her dream was going to become reality. And if the crowd over the weekend was any indication, they’d have no problem getting the house done in time for Christmas.
All that was left was finding out if Josie and Boyd would stay.
She sank back against the heated, leather seat and sighed. Maybe this would actually work out.
* * *
AARON GLANCED OVER at Maeve, as he drove to the restaurant.
He wondered what she was thinking.
She seemed excited about the charity. The Valley Ridge Home for Christmas Foundation had a nice ring. But she just stared silently out the window. He was at a loss for what to say.
He pulled into a parking space. “We’re here.”
She nodded and got out.
“Is every thing okay?” he asked when he got out of the car. “You seem upset.”
“I’m not upset. I’m thrilled. Happy.”
“It’s hard to tell what you’re feeling at any given time. Well, except when I’ve annoyed you. That I can tell.”
“I tend to be private.”
A maître d’ showed them to a table. They placed their orders. Maeve was still quiet.
When the waitress left, she said, “You know, I’ve never told anyone else my mom and I were homeless for a time.”
“No one?”
“No. My principal must have guessed. She called me to her office every day on some pretense or another, well, at least at first. She always had packed too much for her lunch and shared it with me. She finally came out and asked.”
“Did you tell her?”
Maeve shook her head. “Not at first. I didn’t want to, but she...insisted. After that, she’d come in early in the mornings, and Mom and I would take showers in the gym. She brought me lunches. She...”
“What happened?”
“She talked to Hank. I was so mad. I can’t even tell you how mad I was. But Hank has an apartment behind his house. Lily’s mom lives there now. He let us stay there and gave Mom a job at the diner.”
Aaron knew what happened next. “And that’s where she met Herm.”
“He fell in love with her chocolate milk shakes.” Maeve twirled her straw in her glass, swirling the ice and lemon wedge around.
“And no one at school ever knew?”
“I got a reputation for being a bad girl.” She looked up as the lemon lazily made another loop around the glass.
He laughed. “I can’t believe anyone bought that.”
“You don’t think I have the makings of a bad girl?” She sat a little taller.
He studied her a long moment, then shook his head. “I see more of a bookworm than bad girl.”
She sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. But since no one ever knew what I did, they were a bit hesitant to mock me for my bookworming ways.”
“Now, that’s a bonus.”
She got quiet again.
“Is there a problem?”
“I don’t know how to do this.” She waved her hand between them. “I know it’s not a date, but even then, small talk escapes me.”
“You were doing fine. I’m not known for my small talk abilities, either. I’m a computer nerd. I’m more at home with my laptop than I am socializing.”
“So, what you’re saying is we’re both hopeless?” She smiled and looked more comfortable.
“Yes.”
“That does make it easier.”
“So, let’s enjoy the dinner.”
And they did. Maeve told Aaron stories about Valley Ridge and its inhabitants. No gossip, which he liked, but interesting tidbits.
“Most of the socializing takes place either at the schools or at the church. We don’t even have a bowling alley in town. But the beautiful thing about Valley Ridge is we’re between North East, Pennsylvania, and Ripley, New York. And just beyond those two smaller towns, there’s Erie and Buffalo. And then there’s the lake. Erie’s got Presque Isle, North East has Freeport Beach, and there’s the beach here in Valley Ridge. For as long as I can remember, there’s been talk about giving it an actual name, but it’s not developed, so it’s just ‘the beach.’ It’s one of the few accessible beaches around here, but it’s owned by one of the farmers. Ray’s been working with town council to actually buy that small stretch for the town.”
Aaron listened to Maeve and realized how deeply her roots were sunk in this town.
“You love it here,” he murmured more to himself than to her.
“I do,” she said. “A lot of kids move away. It’s a small town and farming’s our biggest industry, but the town proper has experienced a rebirth. There’s talk that people are looking at buying up empty storefronts. Ray’s been working to bring tourists into town. The current theory is that with the recession, people long for roots. That’s what we offer. A place to plant roots.”
He realized that the gift she wanted to give Josie and Boyd was more than a house; it was those roots. “Is that why you came back after college?”
“It’s home. I missed being near my mom and I missed the town. I missed knowing almost everyone. I know I’m not very outgoing, but people seem to accept me regardless. I guess that’s what I like. The acceptance. The looking out for each other.”
She paused, and then added, “Hank has dementia. Some days you can hardly tell, and others, you can’t miss it. But the whole town knows and keeps an eye on him. If he starts to leave the diner, invariably someone asks if they can go with him to keep him company. He’s cared for. That’s the best example I can think of.”
“And he’s one of the ones who helped you and your mother.”
She nodded. “More people would have, but my mom is a proud woman and didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Hank insisted. He’s stubborn.”
“It seems to me that you got a fair dose of pride and stubbornness, too.”
“And you don’t have either of those?” She grinned at him in a way that said she wouldn’t buy it if he said no.
It was a fair question. One he’d never asked himself before. He thought about the envelope on his desk. Maybe it wasn’t his heart, but rather his pride that was stinging. Maybe his resistance to signing the papers he knew were inside was more about stubbornness at this point.
That question stayed with him long after they’d finished dinner and returned to Valley Ridge.
Heart or pride?