Flipped! (Spinning Hills Romance 1) (7 page)

“Yeah,” he continued, encouraged by their stunned silence. “Think about it a moment. She’s a single mom who hangs out on a Friday night instead of staying home with her kid. She lives in a basement and walks around at night looking like a freak. She calls herself a nose, runs an empty shop, and thinks she can take on projects that are clearly over her head.”

The moment he finished, he knew he’d sounded too harsh. He tried to lighten it up, if only to get Johnny to listen. “Holly Bell—she sounds like one of Santa’s elves. And she’s Crystal’s daughter. You think I’m messed up and she only babysat me a few years. Imagine what a lifetime of Crystal would do to a person.” He grinned.

“Dan, you know Crystal died, right?”

The smile slid right off his face.

“I don’t care if you have a problem with me, but what’s your problem with my mother?” A woman’s angry voice came from the top of the stairs.

All three brothers whipped around to see Holly and her little girl standing there. Nobody said anything. The little girl shifted her feet, and Holly looked down at her. She then stood up straight and looked at Dan. “You’re clueless and ignorant, but the fact that you don’t have better things to do with your time than sit around bad-mouthing women is your problem, not mine. I’d set you straight, but I don’t owe you any explanations.”

With that, she turned on her heel and left, but not before the little girl wrinkled her brow and puckered her lips at Dan. “Mom’s right, you’re a mean blister in the keister.”

“He’s worse. He’s just a giant keister.”

“Yeah. Only the Santa elf part was nice.”

 

Holly slammed the door on her way out, not caring that it was Sam’s door.
What does Dan Amador know about me, anyway? He knows nothing. Nothing! I’ve had enough of hypercritical, bigheaded men. Having lived with two was enough! Listening to them leads to nothing but self-doubt and—

“Holly,” Dan called after her. “I’m sorry.”

She whirled around. “I know. You’re sorry I was standing there!” “No. I’m sorry about your mother. I didn’t know, and I didn’t mean what I said about her. That was my lame attempt at a joke.” He took a step closer and looked down at Ella. “I’m also sorry your daughter heard all of that. Ella, is it? I’m so sorry.”

Did he even realize he wasn’t apologizing over what he’d said about her? Ella turned her nose up at him and they both walked away.

Dan went back inside. Sam wouldn’t look at him, and Johnny would look, but not talk, a rarity. Dan paced the room. He’d never felt like a lowlife before. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling. “I’m sorry. How the hell was I supposed to know she was here?” he said, looking up.

“You’re going to have to find a way to make it up to her,” Johnny said.

“I apologized.”

“I heard and it wasn’t enough. Make it up to her or forget about the festival. They can find someone else.”

“Hey, he didn’t know about Crystal,” Sam said to Johnny. “He’ll apologize again. You know he will. You can’t just decide we won’t participate.”

“An apology isn’t enough. I don’t know what’s come over him, but if he doesn’t make it up to her somehow—”

Dan swore under his breath. “This about the house again? ’Cause I already told you—”

“It’s not about the house. It’s about you. You don’t come around enough to know anything about the people in our lives, so I don’t know what makes you think you have a say.”

Sam sighed and laid his guitar down and Dan turned and left. He’d wanted to tell Johnny to shove the festival. It had just been an excuse for him to check on Sam, anyway. But Johnny’s words had left him cold. He’d apologize to Holly again, and Johnny would get over the whole thing soon enough.

 

Dan was carting trim and molding from the Craftsman to Sam’s truck when he ran into Ruby Meriwether and Ella walking up the sidewalk. The older woman looked the same as ever. Long silver hair tied back in a pigtail, long bangs, long skirt.

He didn’t know what to do. He’d known Ruby his whole life, but she was probably mad at him, too. He hadn’t stopped by the café, not looking forward to the tongue-lashing he might receive from the three women who owned it. He and his brothers had been on the receiving end of their wrath many times, when they’d catch them doing something they deemed too dangerous.

Before he could think of something to say, Ruby suddenly pulled him down by his shirt collars and gave him a big hug. He was surprised at how relieved he felt. He lifted her off her feet, the way he and his brothers began doing when they’d gotten tall enough and wanted to show off. It always made her laugh. He’d never try it with Rosa or Sherry. One would have a fit over the audacity and the other would happily knee him in the groin. “I’m so sorry about Crystal, Ruby. I didn’t know,” he whispered into her ear as he put her down.

Ruby patted his cheek and sighed, her eyes misty.

“Grandma!” the little girl protested.

Dan stuck his right hand out, hoping to shake Ella’s hand. Ella ignored his hand and looked up at him with a furious flash in her eyes. He felt his own widen. There was a stunning resemblance between Holly and her daughter. It made him smile. The little girl’s eyes were lighter and her hair was blond, but curls were springing out every which way. Her eyes got squinty. He squinted at her, too, and she scrunched up her face. And sneezed. Right into his hand.

“Ella!” Ruby scolded.

“It was an accident,” he said.

Ruby didn’t look convinced. “Well, we do think she’s getting the flu. We’re coming back from the doctor’s office.”

“You look a lot like your mom,” Dan said, attempting to show the little girl he wasn’t a monster. “Except her hair is black and her eyes are brighter.”

Ella un-scrunched her face, but didn’t lose her squint. “You’re mean, even if you think my mommy is pretty. I think she’s pretty, too.”

“I . . .” What the hell was he supposed to say to that? If he denied it, he’d look like an even bigger jerk. “I’m very sorry about the other day, Ella. I know you won’t believe me, but I really am.” He looked at Ruby. “I’m guessing you’ve heard?”

Ruby patted Ella’s back. “Run on over to the backyard and play a bit, before you’re too unwell to be outside. I’ll be there in a moment.” Ella sneezed again and half-walked, half-skipped toward the back. Ruby looked up at him. “I heard. And I know you didn’t know about Crystal. You have two brothers, after all, and men don’t communicate the way women do.”

“And you’re not mad about . . . the other things I said?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not happy or pleased with you by any means, but I’m not angry.” Ruby studied him a long moment before gracing him with a knowing smile. “I know you, Dan. And I know what you’re about. But you have a thing or two coming to you. Mark my words.”

Dan grinned. “Hey, I thought I’d be banned from the bakery for life. I’ll take the thing or two coming my way over that any day.” Ruby had always been kind to him. He’d been thinking of Holly as the nut who’d given him the scar above his eyebrow, not Ruby’s granddaughter. Or Leo’s cousin. He really would have to make things right with Holly.

“You still like fruitcake?” Ruby asked. Dan nodded. “When are you coming by? Rosa and Sherry want to see you, too.”

Dan smiled. “Tell them I’ll stop by soon.”

Ruby hesitated. “Speaking of people you haven’t seen . . .”

He stiffened. There were lots of people he hadn’t visited, but only one who would make Ruby hesitate before speaking.

“Marianne’s been saying that you haven’t been by to see her at all.”

“We’ll run into each other sooner or later and we’ll chat then. It’s no big deal.”

Ruby put her hand on his arm and didn’t speak again until he looked at her. “I haven’t seen you in years, Dan, and I know it’s not my place to say anything personal to you, but it’s me, and I have to.” She paused, looked back to make sure Ella was okay, and continued. “I don’t think you should visit Marianne to appease her or anyone else. I think you need to calmly and directly tell her why you
don’t
feel you owe it to her. She won’t listen, but it’ll do you a world of good and it will do your brothers no harm.” She let him go. “But that’s all I’ll say to you on the subject. I promise. So stop by the bakery and make three old women who love you happy.”

 

It was late, but Dan didn’t want to go back to his brother’s place. Johnny wasn’t speaking to him and a non-speaking Johnny was enough to drive a man mad. He also couldn’t figure out how he’d make it up to Holly. And as much as he’d thought Marianne no longer had any influence on his mood, the thought of her going around town and complaining about him, again, made him angry.

Dan took a sledgehammer to the wall between the master bedroom and a small, useless bedroom on the second floor. He began hammering and tearing away, the force of it sating him. An hour later he was spent and somewhat at peace. He was about to take out the studs when he noticed something jammed in a small, perfect nook. He dug it out and was excited to see it was a brittle, yellowed envelope. The front side read,
To Miranda McDowell
. The back wasn’t sealed. A thrill ran down his spine.

As impatient as he was to open it, Dan stilled, knowing that the one person who might be as thrilled as he was at this discovery was right next door. And she hated him.

Dan stared at the envelope, a buzz running down his arm, his fingers itching to open it.

Holly had looked disappointed when she’d told him she’d never found out why the McDowells sold the house so soon after it was built. She’d probably be eager to discover the contents of the letter. Not that he knew anything about her. Johnny was right about that.

Dan slid a finger along the envelope. The contents might be a way into Holly’s good graces and a way to show Johnny he was sorry, without actually having to say the words.

No, he didn’t come around often enough to know every detail about their lives. But he stayed away, in part, for them. Something his brothers would never understand.

He stood at the kitchen window and looked toward the basement next door. The curtains were open and the light was on. Ella was coloring at the table. Holly was cleaning the kitchen. They looked so normal.

He went to knock on her basement door before he could talk himself out of it.

H
olly opened the door, holding a scruffy, barking, medium-sized mutt. She took one look at him and slammed the door in his face. He guessed she was still leaning against it, so he called out, “I found a letter addressed to Miranda McDowell inside one of the walls.” The door creaked open and Holly peeked out. He held up the envelope, and she stared at it as if it were the Hope Diamond. She stuck out a hand.

He almost held back, but he couldn’t, not with such anticipation radiating from her. He handed it to her. “Don’t tell me what it says. I want to read it myself,” she said before turning and trying to shut the door in his face with her foot. His eyes slipped down when he held the door open. She wore a navy T-shirt and gray yoga pants that outlined a trim waist and a perfect butt. Disappointed in himself for noticing any part of her anatomy after all they’d been through, he jerked his head up.

Noticing the door hadn’t shut, she glanced back at him. “Don’t worry. This nutty, basement-dwelling, irresponsible mom is also a history buff. I know how to handle old paper.”

“I haven’t read it yet. I thought we could read it together.”

She stared at him. “You want to read it together.” There was no tone to her voice, nothing by which he could gauge her reaction. Was she grateful? Appalled he wanted to read it with her? “Why?” she asked.

“I know I insulted you, but I have a scar that will remind me of you for the rest of my life. All I’m asking is we read a letter together and call it even.”

Guilt moved across her features, and she spontaneously reached up to brush a finger across the scar. He stared at her a moment, stunned at the response her light touch caused.

“You won’t be scarred for life, and you had a hand in everything that happened,” she said, snatching her hand away. “Now tell me the truth. Why did you bring the letter here?”

He shook his head. “I, uh, wanted to share it with someone who’d understand why it’s meaningful.” It was only one-third of the truth, but it was true nonetheless.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“It’s the scar. It makes me look dishonest,” he answered, trying guilt again.

“Go away.”

“Wait.” He looked into her eyes. “Your mother taught me how to play checkers and how to read a map. She’d tell me about all the places she wanted to visit, and then we’d go to the library to read up on them. I hate that no one told me she was gone, and I hate that my lame joke about her hurt you. And I ran into your grandmother today. Hurting you also hurt her. Plus you’re Leo’s cousin, and Leo and I go way back.”

 

Holly stared at Dan Amador. The judgmental, self-righteous jerk seemed to be telling the truth, but still she couldn’t trust him. He despised
her
, after all. “Is that the whole truth?”

Dan hesitated. “Two-thirds of it. I promise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as we read the letter together.”

Ella looked out the door. She took one look at Dan and ran down the hallway. Dan frowned at that. Holly looked into his gray eyes. The remorse he was describing was reflected there.

She wanted to read the letter, and technically, it was his. It didn’t matter what he really thought about her. His opinion meant nothing to her. Because he meant nothing to her. She broke eye contact.

“Leo doesn’t know what happened, so please don’t bring it up when you see him. I don’t want to drag anyone else into this. I only vented with Ruby and I asked Ella to just keep it between us. Now sit your butt down. We’ll read the letter together, and then you’re out of here,” she commanded. He didn’t deserve politeness.

“You mean, sit my keister down?” Dan wanted to thank her for not telling Leo what he’d said, but he knew she didn’t want to be thanked because she hadn’t done it for him.

He sat down and took a good look around the apartment. The L-shaped kitchen fit a small island. Plenty of cedar cabinets lined the walls. White Corian countertops and a glass backsplash reflected light and further brightened it up. The dining area was next, followed by a family room. Large casement windows that would let plenty of natural light in during the day. White trim and neutral walls and furniture with colorful kid’s art and throw pillows completed the bright and airy look.

There was a hallway between the dining area and the family room and, from the size of the house, he could guess it led to two bedrooms and one or two bathrooms.

“Hey, this apartment is pretty decent. Lots of light and storage. Leo and his wife did a great job,” he said, to break the ice.

“I know. It’s surprising I didn’t choose a crypt to live in, what with my general lack of judgment and all.” Holly flipped the envelope over. He moved his chair closer to hers and together they stared at it. Stanley hopped from her lap to his. He got up on his hind legs and began sniffing Dan’s shirt. Satisfied, he spun around three times before curling up on Dan’s lap. Holly narrowed her eyes at her puppy.

“Is he a terrier mix?”

She nodded.

“What’s his name?”

“Stanley.”

Dan stroked the dog’s gray, white, and gold fur. “Sam and Johnny had a Yorkie. His name was Cooper. I used to tell them it was a girl’s dog.”

Holly did her best to keep her lips from twitching. Not because Dan was funny. He wasn’t. But she knew Sam and Johnny well enough to imagine how much that would’ve bugged them.

They reached down to open the envelope’s flap, their fingers touched, and they both pulled their hands back.

“I’ll open it. You stay back.” Holly lifted the flap and slid the letter out. Carefully, she unfolded it. Unable to keep the excitement out of her voice, she read aloud.
“December, Saturday 17, 1913. My dearest Miranda,

Holly stared at the letter, the simple words deeply felt.

“Is that it?” Dan asked, looking over her shoulder. Holly showed him there was nothing else on the page. His eyes drifted from the page to her, and they stared at each other.

“Nineteen thirteen. The year the house was built,” he said.

“Does the name Catelli ring a bell?” Holly asked.

“No.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“I think you should take this to the library. They can preserve it properly, and they’ll know where it belongs now that it’s left its home,” she said after a while.

“Wait, what’s that in the back?”

She turned the letter around and the words,
Yours forever, Owen Amador,
were written in ink on one corner.

“Amador?” He leaned in and studied the signature. His natural scent was simply alluring. Nothing she could do about that.

“Have you heard of him? Is he a great-uncle of yours or something?” She looked at him. He had little dark hairs on his chest, a trait she’d always found desirable. Nothing she could do about that, either.

“Never heard of him.”

“Well, he definitely sounds like a victim of the infamous Amador curse.”

“You believe in that?” His eyes glittered with humor. He had many attractive physical traits, she admitted, but he was still an ass. He had an attractive ass, too, if memory served.

“I’m sure you’d love one more thing to hold against me, but no, I don’t believe in curses. I was kidding.”

“Fairy tales, then?” He looked around at Ella’s framed art, smiling. Princesses and evil stepmothers. Princes and beasts. Castles and cottages . . .

No, she didn’t believe that frogs or beasts were really princes, princesses annoyed her, and her own stepmother was a doll. But she had wanted the fairy-tale house. “Well, thanks for sharing this with me, but it’s time for you to leave.” She stood up.

“I’ll take it to the library,” he said, but looked down at Ella’s coloring book instead.

“Ahem,” Holly pretended to cough. She stood at the door and gestured for him to get out.

“One more thing.” Dan turned.

His shoulders barely fit in her door frame and he was at least a foot taller than she. “What?” she asked, straightening to her full height.

“Johnny’s really pissed at me.”

“So?”

“He’ll only forgive me if I make things right with you. He even threatened to pull out of the festival.”

Holly widened her eyes. “Really?”

Dan nodded. “So, did sharing the letter make things even a little bit right between us?”

“Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me. No.” She pointed a finger to his chest. “And not because your opinions hurt me or because you stole my house, but because you’ve given me every reason to dislike you.
Intensely.
You want to make things right but you don’t apologize, you go around saying I trespassed twice when, technically, it was only once, you tell people I have maniacal eyes, you made fun of my career—”

“I haven’t apologized because you won’t believe me, but trust me, I’m sorry.”

“Right.”

“See?” His mouth lifted in one corner. “And the maniacal-eyes thing was just a part of the story. You have to admit, it’s a funny story.”

“Well, it’s my story, too, and the part where I lost the house still hurts, so stop using it to flirt, stop spreading it, and stop acting like you know anything about me.”

“I’m not spreading the story. Or using it to flirt.”

“You told Heather and Jenny.”

He looked at her from under his lashes. “Well, I knew it would make Heather laugh and she deserves to laugh. And I’ll admit I was flirting with Jenny. But it was mutual.”

“Like I care that it was mutual.” She chewed on her bottom lip. What did he want her to do? Call Johnny up and tell him she and Dan were suddenly aces because he showed her an old piece of paper? She caught Dan staring at her mouth, so she stopped chewing. Probably he guessed it was a nervous habit and another one of her
innumerable
flaws. “You meant what you said, right? You still think Johnny should stay away from me?”

“Contrary to what you and others may think, I’m not heartless. I love my brothers and I watch out for them. Why do you think I came home, anyway? The festival will be fun, yeah, but that’s not why I’m here.”

Holly didn’t say anything because she couldn’t think of anything to say.

Dan ran both hands through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry what I said hurt you, but I was trying to look out for Johnny. He’s always been good with people, but whether he realizes it or not, he always seeks out people with problems.”

Holly shook her head. “Wow. You are something. Not only do you think Johnny has a thing for me, but you think I have all these problems and that’s the reason why?”

“I just meant that he’s attracted to people he
thinks
might be having a tough time of it.” Dan sighed. “Don’t bite my head off. Try to see things my way a moment. The night I met you, your hair and face were covered with some sort of slime. I caught you trespassing again after that disastrous night, whether you think so or not, I heard you crooning to yourself the day I visited your shop, you called yourself a nose, and you pretended not to know me.”

Holly studied him. He was arrogant and judgmental to an astounding degree. “How about you try to remember I thought the house was mine and that I wasn’t expecting to encounter anyone. And I was petting Stanley and talking nonsense to him. I was
not
crooning to myself, and I tell most people I’m a nose because it’s a great conversation starter.”

“You take your dog to your place of business?” He quirked an eyebrow.

She fisted her hands at her sides. “Is your continued criticism of me your way of trying to get me to cooperate? Because that’s my definition of crazy.”

His eyes twinkled. “I was kidding.”

She rolled her eyes before glancing at her watch. It was getting late. “Look, you haven’t made things right just by sharing a letter with me. But Sam and Johnny are my friends and I care about them. I know how much they’ve missed you and how thrilled they were when you told them you’d come up.” She paused. “And at least you’re being sincere. You’re not trying to manipulate me into thinking you want to be my friend. I appreciate that. So, let’s make a deal.”

“A deal,” he repeated, as if she’d offered him a flaming bag of Stanley’s poop.

“I’ll tell Johnny you made things right if you let me come over to the Craftsman once a week to see your progress. You also have to promise you’ll listen to—and consider—my ideas for the house.”

“Once a week? Lady, I don’t have time for that, and I don’t think you’d be able to appreciate the progress. How about every other week? I promise I’ll give you a detailed tour and listen to a few of your ideas.”

“Every Friday at seven, and you have to listen to every one of my ideas and give me a good reason every time you reject one. Take it or leave it.”

“Do you want to buy it from me when I’m done? We can work something out if that’s the case.”

“I can’t buy it from you if you’re planning on making a profit.”

 

She wanted to have a say in how the house turned out, even though she knew she couldn’t buy it from him? Dan closed his eyes a moment. This was messed up. Every time he spoke to the woman, she proved how unreasonable she was. But he couldn’t say anything because that’s what had gotten him into this situation in the first place. “This thing with the house, you know it’s not normal, right?”

“This thing where you continue to insult me, you know that’s not normal, either,
right?
I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m offering you a deal and I’m this close to taking it off the table,” she said, showing him the tiny space between her thumb and forefinger.