Page 6 of Tangled Desires

“Poor girl has been through it,” Johnny says, taking a sip of his whisky.

“Explains why she’s back, though, taking care of business since everything has been left on her shoulders.” Tysen looks like he’s lost in thought. Now that he’s gotten a third pilot on rotation for Vaughn Air Elite, his private charter company, he’s able to be around more.

“Shit, she’s what, thirty-three?” Trent responds. I could very well have him do a complete background search with his job as a police officer. Except Jude has taken over keeping tabs on everyone and every facet of our lives.

“Thirty-five,” I grunt, because no fucking way I’d have had any type of relationship with her when I was seventeen and she was thirteen. I’m the youngest in the group. While the rest of them are hitting thirty-nine and forty, I’ll be hitting thirty-eight later this year.

“Someone’s memory is sharp as a tack,” Matthew mutters. I give him a sharp look.

“Incoming,” Crew states, letting us know the girls areabout to converge on our group. A fucking welcome relief. I finish my beer, more than ready to call it a night. The other day had me questioning why everything seemed too quiet, and now I’m over here ready to leave my friends to have nothing except silence.

“Congrats, Kennedy, happy for you.” I side swipe her before she moves toward Trent. In the past year, we’ve had weddings, pregnancies, and engagements, and I don’t see an end in sight. Matthew will more than likely be the next given the way he’s talked about his housekeeper lately.

“Thanks, are you doing okay?” she asks.

“Never better. I’m gonna head home. I’ve got an early start in the morning.” Kenny nods, and I make my rounds, being sure to make a plate to take home. I’ve already seen the worry written on Winnie’s face. That’s the last thing I want. She’s got enough going on, and Johnny would kick my ass if something upset her. That man is wrapped around her finger, much like Tysen is Maci’s, Asher is Lennie’s, and Trent is Kennedy’s. Yeah, I don’t see me settling down anytime soon, especially because Lyric is back. She fucked that up a long time ago, and it’s best left where it belongs—in the past.

4

LYRIC

“Here goes nothing,” I say to my empty room at the bed and breakfast the next day. After I spoke with Mrs. Steele, who told me to call her by her first name, Eleanor, I also learned Mr. Steele’s given name is Troy. We spoke about the house, how it all happened, and given the background, I was shocked but also felt sorry about the tenant.

The single mom who had lived there for the past five years with three children all under the age of ten tried to make ends meet. Apparently, she did a really good job, too, until her abusive ex made a sudden appearance. Things went from bad to worse, and he took his anger out on her, the kids, and my house. The tenant, Vivian, called the police numerous times, but the husband would take off and couldn’t be found. She put a restraining order on him, and child protective services were involved, too.

They thought they’d be in the clear, since he didn’t comeback for months this time. Then one day, he re-appeared, hurt Vivian and the girls, wreaked havoc on the house, until finally, Troy called the cops one night after hearing screaming. The abusive piece of shit was taken away in handcuffs, and all Eleanor knew is that Vivian and the girls up and disappeared in the middle of the night. Eleanor tends to believe she received help from the women’s shelter and is in the wind, especially since the man who beat on her and the children didn’t stay behind bars long.

I felt terrible after hearing the story. No longer was I upset about the house but at the way Vivian and her children were treated. I make a mental note to include a sizable donation to the local women’s shelter when life settles down. What reason is there to have all this money that’s been left behind with nothing to do with it? I’d rather see it be spent on the greater good. We then proceeded to write a list of what would need to be done to make the house livable. I’m okay with living there once the basics are done, you know, like a livable bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom.

When I first planned to come down to Florida, I initially thought I’d throw a blow-up air mattress in the car and figure things out when I got here. Naomi clucked her tongue, telling me in not so many words that my idea wouldn’t be the greatest, especially because there was no running water and power. Furthermore, turning it on while no one is at the house could make for another sticky situation in case there was a leak or an electrical fire. Here I am, thirty-five-years old, and didn’t even think about that. Clearly, I’ve never owned a home on my own before. Even while being Dad’scaretaker, nothing really happened at the house apart from needing a new hot water heater.

Needless to say, I saw the error in my ways and quickly found a place to stay. There were hotels to choose from, except they were further away from my house, not to mention they were a bit pricier than I wanted to pay. My goal was to come down here, get the house ready, working night and day to do so, and only need a place to lay my head at night. I guess that’s out of the question, but the good news is the bed and breakfast I booked isn’t near as steep as a hotel, plus it comes with breakfast. The older couple who owns and operates the establishment is an added bonus; they’re warm and welcoming. They also let me book my room until I no longer needed it and gave me a sweet deal for it, too.

“Hello, this is Joss with Jagged Edge Construction, how may I help you?” I finally grew a pair of lady balls and dialed the number on the sheet of paper Eleanor wrote on along with my list of to-dos. There’s a construction company, a yard maintenance company, and also the water and electric companies she had on hand. I’m forgoing the yard one for the time being. I can use my own elbow grease and dive right in. The math started mathing when I calculated the price of yard tools versus hiring the work out. Yes, it would be a whack at first, but I’d have it until they bit the dust or I got tired of dealing with the yard. I can’t honestly say that will happen. In North Carolina, when the nurses would sit with Dad, I’d take a full two hours to mow, weed eat, hedge the bushes, and pick the weeds out of the flower beds.

“Hi, I’m calling to see if I can schedule an estimate. Youwere referred to me by Eleanor Steele,” I name-drop exactly like she suggested. I’m desperate here, and it’s not like there are a whole lot of options in this small town. Eleanor even warned me that should I need to go outside of this area, to let her know the company name first, and she’d run it by Troy to be on the safe side.

“Let me see what we have available. In the meantime, can you tell me your address?”

“Umm, hold on just a minute. I know the street name but can’t remember the exact house number.” I get flustered for a second, feeling caught off guard when I for sure thought my ducks were in row.

“Take your time. There’s no rush,” Joss says on the other end of the line, calming me down a little bit. “The scheduling system likes to lag, so it all works out.”

I quickly turn the page in my notebook. “There it is. Fifty-nine thirty-five Fawn Ridge Road in Whispering Oaks.” Good grief, I could have looked that up in maps app had I put my speakerphone on.

“Perfect timing. My scheduling program decided to wake up and realize it is not in fact a Monday and shouldn’t be acting crazy at all,” Joss jokes.

“Well, it is Friday. Maybe it’s thinking about quitting time.”

“Ha, it’s too early in the day for that, plus this is an ongoing issue.” Maybe their system needs an overhaul. These types of things always happened at the dentist’s office I once worked at, and because the facility was on the smaller side, upgrades didn’t happen as fast as they should have.

“Well, that stinks.” I sympathize with her.

“Alright, here we go. I have Monday at eight o’clock in the morning. The general contractor will be Randy. Is the number you’re calling from a good point of contact?” Wow. I breathe a sigh of relief. This is happening a lot faster than I expected it to.

“That’s perfect, and yes, this number is a good point of contact,” I reply.

“I guess I should jot down your name to attach the house to the person Randy is meeting.” We both let out a laugh of our own. I don’t think it’s only her computer program needing a break; we all do.

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