Page 61 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

I force a smile. I hate black coffee. I hate Starbucks too, but I’d take a watered-down Frappuccino over whatever this is that Wally’s set in front of me.

“Oh, stop it, Wally,” Lorraine says. “I’ll get you some cream and sugar. No one likes black coffee except ornery old men.” She pats my shoulder as she passes me on her way to the fridge. Within seconds, I’ve got enough cream and sugar to make the coffee drinkable.

“Now, what do you want to know about the house?” He takes a sip of his coffee, winces, then takes another drink.

“When was it built?” Before I can take a drink of my coffee, a plate of store-bought donuts appears before me.

“Nineteen oh two.” Wally nods toward the plate.

Chocolate donuts that leave a film on the top of your mouth are a poor substitute for ebelskiver, but I sense Wally is waiting for me to take one before he does. So I do.

“And your mother grew up there? When was she born?” I follow his lead and dip the donut into my coffee. It’s not good.

Lorraine sits down by Wally with her own cup of coffee and takes a donut. Then Wally spends the next thirty minutes telling me about how his grandfather built the house with his own hands, how far his mother had to walk to get to the old schoolhouse, and stories about Georgia, her grandmother, and her mother. He and his sister, Georgia’s grandmother, used to spend time at the house when they were kids but hated it because there was no indoor plumbing until the late sixties. After his grandparents passed, Wally’s parents rented it out, but the repairs eventually cost more than they could get for rent.

“Have you ever thought about selling it?” I ask when he finishes.

“No, but you wouldn’t be the first person looking to buy it.”

Before I can answer, Lorraine lays a hand on Wally’s arm. “The house is worthless, but he won’t ever sell that land. It’s been in his family for too long.”

“So you’ll just let the house slowly crumble?” I take another dip of donut and another sip of coffee. It’s still not good.

Wally shrugs. “Guess so. Or maybe I’ll start charging people who come snooping around for the story of it.” He raises an eyebrow, and I laugh.

“Or,” I counter. “You could sell the wood siding to me for cheap, and I’ll use it for the floors in Grandma Rose’s.”

“Rose’s old house?” Wally sets down his mug, and Lorraine eyes him nervously.

For a split second, I consider backpedaling, but then I decide to keep pushing forward. “Think about it. The house isn’t usable. It would cost you to tear it down, and people like me are always bugging you about it. Sell me the siding, half the house will be taken down for you, and it will live on in the home of your sister’s only grandchild.”

There’s no way to read Wally’s face. It’s as blank as an unpainted wall. I force down more coffee and am even considering going for another donut when he finally speaks.

“Would Adam do the work?”

I get the sense he’ll agree to my idea if I say yes, and there’s not anyone else I know who could do the work. But saying yes means talking to Adam before next week. And talking to him is what got me in trouble last night.

“I think so. I could ask him.” That’s as close to yes as I can get, and Wally’s shoulders immediately tense in response.

“He’s the only one I’d want to do it. He’ll understand how to be respectful about it. He knows its history.” Wally taps his pointer finger on the table, adding emphasis to each word. I nod with enthusiasm, not wanting to say anything that may change his mind.

“Of course. I understand. I wouldn’t ask anyone else to do it.” I grip my coffee cup to contain my growing excitement.

“I won’t charge you nothing if he does it, but I want it all down. And you gotta pay him. He’d do it for free for us, but he should get paid. I know he needs the money. Tell him to get in touch with me.” With that, Wally stands. “I got work to do. Nice meeting you.”

I push away from the table. “Nice meeting both of you, too. Thanks so much. I’ll talk to Adam about it today.”

Wally nods and walks out the back door, but Lorraine leads me to the front door. “We don’t have kids of our own. Adam has always been good to us, even as a little boy. He’d come over and help with chores, including keeping that house shut up but in shape.”

“That sounds like the Adam I’m getting to know,” I say as we stop at the door. “He seemed grumpy at first, but the more I learn about him, the more I like.”

Lorraine’s face stretches into a smile. “There’s a lot to like there. It’d be nice for him to find a new girl.”

My cheeks burn, but I force a smile and ignore what she’s implying. “That would be nice.”

I leave the Lindenhofs wanting to do a happy dance but also shake my fist at God or the Universe or whatever led me to them. Stumbling on that house had been a happy chance of fate that never would have happened if I hadn’t been running away from Adam.

That same circumstance is sending me right back in the direction I was trying to avoid: the path that has all the potential of putting me back into Adam Thomsen’s arms. Whatever the powers-that-be are that keep leading me back to him, they have no respect for my timeline.

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