Page 8 of Taming His Honeydoll
Henry’s offer to help her with school and be a father to cover Levi’s arrival had been an offer she’d grabbed with both hands. Anything to avoid the humiliation of Oliver’sI told you soringing in her ears.
She sighed and wiped a tear from her cheek. The hell of it was, Oliver had been right about everything. If only she’d listened instead of being so hard-headed. Now, he was married and had bought her out of her share of the family home where he and Marsha lived. There really wasn’t a place for her to go home to. Home wasn’t her home anymore. She’d blown through that money too and didn’t heed Oliver’s advice to bank it for a rainy day. Well, the rainy day was here and she had no umbrella.
Looking up Sawyer was absolutely not an option. Even if he’d want to see her after the vengeful trick that she’d pulled on him with that newspaper article, she knew he didn’t love her. What if he tried to take Levi away from her?
They hadn’t known each other very long but she knew he’d joined the military because of money. He’d said he had to take the offer; it was too good to pass up. And after that one night of shared passion, the most beautiful night of her existence, he’d told her he didn’t believe she loved him and not to wait for him. He’d kept talking, trying to explain,but don’t wait for me, was where her hearing ended.
He’d dumped her.
The pain still tore at her heart as if it were yesterday. And then she’d realized she was pregnant. If Levi was all she would ever have of Sawyer, then she would make do. She didn’t have to marry anyone now to cover her pride. Levi was all hers and she wouldn’t risk Sawyer trying to take him away from her.
Sighing again, she laid the bills aside and went to check on her baby. Levi was fast asleep so she returned to her room to get ready for bed. Her eyes fell on the doll Henry had mentioned. Sawyer had won it at the fair in Bevier and had given it to her saying it looked just like her—long golden legs, a tumble of honey colored hair, and bendable arms and legs. The front of her pink blouse had a beehive on it. It was an advertising prize that Buzz’s Honey had donated to the vendors at the fair. A honeydoll, he’d called it—and her.
Feeling depressed, she turned away and got into bed. At least in bed she could pretend she was still Sawyer’s honeydoll and was in his strong arms once again.
***
THE NEXT MORNING EMMAwoke up bleary-eyed and tired. She called into her job at the therapist clinic and took the day off. She would still take Levi to the babysitter a few blocks away so she could run some errands and make plans. She needed to see a realtor about putting the house on the market.
Emma loved her job and was looking forward to having her own practice someday once she passed all the tests and requirements, including her master’s degree. Counseling young children was something she was good at. Adults not so much. She had only to look at her own life experiences to see that. She’d made every classic mistake possible so far.
Finally, she stepped out the front door with Levi’s bag, her own bag, and her depressing thoughts all weighing her down. Holding Levi’s hand and carefully juggling the bags, she made her way to the little red Chevy Impala sitting in the driveway. It wasn’t paid for yet, but it was all hers anyway. Henry had actually been a great mechanic and he knew his cars. He’d helped her pick out this sporty little car that he’d said suited her feisty personality. He may not have been real husband material for her, but he was a great friend, and he’d loved Levi.
Finally, she got Levi situated in the back seat and climbed into the front, then backed out of the worn, cracked driveway and headed down the street. The driveway needed repair and that had been on Marlene’s list of things to do. Marlene was her ex-mother-in-law. Briefly, Emma wondered how she was taking the news that Levi wasn’t her real grandson. Probably with all the grace of a frustrated octopus who can’t reach one of its goals, even with eight arms.
Taking a deep breath, Emma couldn’t help but be cheered a little by the sunshine and the beauty all around her. The neighborhood she lived in was an old one with mostly quiet streets, some of them even cobblestone. It was a beautiful part of Bevier, and one she could never afford if her in-laws hadn’t bought the house for her and Henry.
A light breeze was swirling the colorful leaves around in the middle of the street. They’d dropped from stately old oaks, elms, and maples lining the sides of the quaint avenues. Pumpkins were everywhere and the classical fall mums lined porch steps in large pots. Who didn’t love autumn? She certainly did. And Halloween was one of her favorite holidays besides Christmas.
She turned the corner after waving at a neighbor who came through the stop sign on her left. Her mood stepped down to dejected; she didn’t want to sell her home. It was beautiful and she loved the house and the area. What choice did she have though?
None—unfortunately.
***
AFTER DROPPING LEVIoff at the babysitter’s not far from her home, Emma had just pulled into a parking space in the mall area in front of Brady Realty when her cell phone rang. Putting the car into park, she turned it off and picked up the phone, then frowned. Why was her bank calling her? She couldn’t have a bounced check—her paycheck had just gone in.
“Hello?” The only time the bank ever called though, was when she was overdrawn. Luckily that didn’t happen often, but her heartbeat quickened, hoping nothing had gone wrong with her deposit.
“Miss Tremaine?”
“Yes, this is Emma Tremaine.”
“Miss Tremaine, my name is Hadley Grover and I’m calling on behalf of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Brassington, your ex-in-laws.”
His voice sounded regretful and Emma’s stomach clenched with sudden dread. “Yes?”
“I’m afraid I have to inform you that I’ve been given orders to send you a formal thirty-day notice to vacate the property at 2106 Fairdale. Your in-laws are taking custody of the home and plan to put it on the market.”
“W-What? But they can’t do that,” Emma protested. “Henry and I own that property. They gave it to us as a wedding gift. Our names are on the property deed.”
“There was a codicil to the sale from our bank I’m afraid,” he replied.
“A codicil? There’s no codicil attached to my copy of the loan papers.”
“Yes, there is a codicil, they just didn’t add it to your copy. They bought the home with the understanding that as long as the two of you were married, it was yours to do with as you wished. But there were conditions.”
“What conditions?” Emma yelped, panicking.
