Authors: Jannette Spann
Hidden Hills (6 page)
With the economy in the pits, a lot of people had opted for bankruptcy instead of waiting for the foreclosure on their loans. But it was a choice she couldn't afford. Mitch occasionally worked at a reduced rate, if a client was desperate or broke, but the only lawyers she knew cost money. Maybe, as a last-ditch effort, it was something to consider. She wasn't trying to hurt Mitch's family, but the money from his life insurance was almost gone â and then what?
****
Crumbs, along with dirty napkins and paper cups, littered Jake's kitchen table, the pizzas now a pleasant memory. Their kids lay spread-eagle in front of the television set, while he and Charlotte cleared the table.
“I'll bet you didn't think I could install a commode.”
She stopped. “Tell you what, since you did such a nice job on our pot, I think I'll let you clean up this mess.”
“You're all heart.” Jake sat, rotating the empty glass in front of him. They'd made a good team, working side by side, installing the commode. She'd even agreed to pick up the tools while he went for pizzas. Now to sit and relax at the table with her seemed right. He hadn't been this comfortable with a woman in a long time.
The dishtowel landed next to him. “Make yourself useful.”
He couldn't shake the feeling something had upset her while he was gone, but he wouldn't press. They'd just met, so her private life wasn't his business â yet. The questions would be answered in due time, but it didn't stop him from wondering. There had to be a way to get her to confide.
She stacked the empty boxes, stuffing them into the garbage can along with the napkins and cups. “Do you realize how much cheese our kids just ate? Three large pizzas seemed like a lot of food, but they had no problem wolfing it down.”
Jake thumped his chest in hopes of relieving the heartburn brought on by too much pepperoni. “I know⦠I'm stuffed. Just look at them, sprawled on the floor without a care in the world.”
“Peaceful.”
His mind drifted back to the days when his family made a meal off one pizza. “I wonder what Betty would think of her boys now⦔
“Was she your wife?”
It took a moment for him to realize she was talking to him. The green eyes gazing into his held a world of understanding, as if he'd found a kindred spirit.
Charlotte crossed to the sink where he'd filled the coffeepot and reached into the cabinet, removing two mugs. He wondered if being in his kitchen felt as right to her as it did to him.
“Jeremy said his mother died when Andy was born.”
“It probably seemed that way to him.” His somber tone had come from thinking about Betty. He seldom talked about her or how she'd died, but for some reason, it seemed okay to tell Charlotte. “It happened a week later. I was at work when she had an aneurysm. By the time we got her to the hospital, it was too late.”
“You must've had your hands full.” She poured coffee for each of them before sitting down. “Raising three boys, and Andy being a newborn, how did you do it?”
He watched her add cream to the cup, slowly stirring with a teaspoon before taking a sip of the strong brew. “I've had some help. The grannies deserve jewels in their crowns. Then the ladies from our church pitched in, and I can't remember how many housekeepers we've had.”
“Well, somebody's done a good job,” she said, looking up from her coffee. “We couldn't have managed this week without their help.”
“My boys? It's an uphill battle to keep dirty socks in the hamper.”
She nodded. “Well, all I've heard this week is yes ma'am and no ma'am.”
He frowned, glancing from her to his boys and back again. “My boys?”
“I don't see any others.”
He shook his head. “They're up to something.”
“Talk about me being skeptical. At least I've got a reason.”
“And I don't?”
“Not that I can see.” She picked up the dishcloth he hadn't touched and leaned close, wiping crumbs into a pile.
Jake fought the urge to take her in his arms, taste her soft lips, and feel her silky hair slide through his fingers. Her pale skin was inches away, but he didn't dare; she was already skittish. If he worked too fast, she might think he was a scumbag and with good cause. She moved away, leaving the faintest hint of pine and honeysuckle in the air.
He thought about telling her some of the stunts the boys had pulled, but he knew she wouldn't believe him. One thing for sure, she wasn't the prissy pushover he'd first thought. Maybe being around her would be the steady influence his boys needed â a woman's soft touch when they needed it, but firm if they goofed up. Knowing she'd send them home in a heartbeat might make a difference.
“You're too quiet. What are you thinking?”
“If you're going to let me in on it.”
“On what?”
“Your reason for being skeptical,” he said, determined to learn something about her, even if it took some old-fashioned meddling. “You act like nobody's ever given you anything just for the joy of giving.”
“It's been a while.”
“How long?”
“Long enough,” she said. “And if you're interested, Mitch and I weren't close to any of our neighbors.”
“Why not?”
“Our house was rather isolated.”
“Not like this place?”
Charlotte released a lengthy sigh. “Is something wrong with me?”
He took the opportunity to stare openly at the curves he'd been admiring all week. “Not from where I'm sitting.”
“Not my body!” She threw the dishtowel in his face. “I'm talking about me. I've spent entire afternoons here this week, and you're the only neighbor I've seen.”
Jake arched his brows and leaned his elbows on the freshly washed table. Had she blushed? This side of Charlotte was new to him, and he liked it. Underneath the cool, confident exterior, there just might be a lonely soul, looking for a friend.
He wasn't sure if he should burst her bubble or let her down gently. “Well, let's see. There's Mrs. Brown. Her son gave her a computer for her eightieth birthday, so she doesn't go out much anymore. The Borden sisters across the street are friendly enough, but they hate kids. Then there's Jeremiah Hamner, your neighbor to the right. His hearing aid doesn't work⦔
“Wait a minute.” Charlotte interrupted before he could get to the busybodies at the end of the street. “Are you saying I've moved to Geriatric Row?”
“It's you and me, babe.”
He'd expected her to laugh, but instead, she walked toward the window to stare into the darkness. “I thought it would be different.”
For a moment he thought she might cry. He had a choice: try to comfort her and have her run like a scared rabbit, or see if he could make her laugh.
“What am I?” He twirled her around by the shoulders so she'd have to look him in the eye. “Chopped liver?”
“I meant another woman.”
“Will it help if I string a clothesline across the back yard? We can meet daily for a good gossip.”
“Say what?”
His brows wiggled. “Is noon good for you? I know some good stuff.”
She almost laughed. “I'll just bet you do. But as much as I'd like to stay and listen, it's late, and I have movers coming in the morning.”
“A local company?”
She scratched through her purse and pulled out a wad of keys big enough to pass for a weapon. “It's three college guys. I can't afford a company.”
The thought of some hunky, bare-chested Romeos flexing their muscles in front of Charlotte wasn't exactly to his liking. “Are you sure it's a good idea?”
“What?”
“You know⦠college guys,” he said, trying not to say what he meant. “Have they done this before? What if they break something, and what about insurance? Are they insured?”
Her chin shot up, and he knew without a doubt he'd hit a sore spot when her eyes flashed. “Excuse me?”
“I don't want you getting ripped off.”
“I may look like I fell off the turnip truck,” she said, as soon as the girls had finished their goodnights. “But I assure you, I can hire movers without any help.”
“What in the⦠what'd I say?”
She paused at the door, reluctant to leave, or was it his imagination? He wanted to roll back the clocks so she would stay.
“I'm perfectly capable of handling my own affairs.”
“You think I'm trying to tell you what to do?”
“Aren't you?”
“No.”
“Then why the third degree?”
He wasn't about to admit he'd been slapped by the green-eyed monster. There wasn't a jealous bone in his body. Well â maybe one.
“I was just being neighborly,” he said, giving the only reasonable excuse he could think of. “Neighbors look out for each other. Sorry if I was prying.”
Her frown disappeared and for the first time in years, Jake found himself wanting to be close to another woman in more than just a physical way. Not just any woman, but
this
woman with the green eyes and porcelain skin. He'd noticed when she wiped the table she was still wearing the plain gold wedding band. Taking his ring off had been a heart-wrenching decision to make. It was like losing Betty all over again, and it took three tries before he found the courage to leave it off. Charlotte's ring remained in place. It was possible she couldn't let go of Mitch.
He watched the indecision in her eyes. She remained a closed book, and he couldn't get a grip on his curiosity. So far he knew she worked two jobs, liked pizza, flowers, and chocolate. If she had the big house Bruce had mentioned, why would she move to Robins Lane? It didn't make sense.
Fear, along with self-doubt, had plagued Charlotte since Mitch's death more than two years ago. There'd been no shortage of well-intended advice. While her parents wanted her to move back home, her in-laws pointed out she had a home at Hidden Hills â with a mortgage. As true as it was, she hadn't needed reminding. Her obligations were nightmares she couldn't shake.
Finances had always been her strong point, but she'd raised no objections when Mitch had offered to handle their bank account after buying his grandfather's estate. A larger home had meant more foster kids, and while it had been a noble gesture in theory, the reality had been frustrating; breakfast had taken twice as long, buying groceries had become a weekly three-hour ordeal, and getting everyone ready for school had compared to a marathon. The chore of doing laundry had gone from two loads a day to six. In addition, there'd been afternoon snacks, homework to complete, and supper to prepare.
With Mitch managing the finances, she'd had one-on-one time with their girls, but she'd missed family time with just the four of them. Looking back, she admitted it hadn't been fair to lay all the blame on him. They'd tried to handle more than was humanly possible without help.
Mitch had wanted the foster kids to have the advantages of a stable home life, something most of them had never had, but since he'd been working long hours to make partner, it had fallen to her to make sure it happened. She'd known he loved her and his heart was in the right place, but communication between the two of them had become almost nonexistent. It wasn't long until she'd become wiped out both mentally and physically.
Before moving to Hidden Hills, they'd always had time to sit down and discuss the budget. All large purchases had been agreed on ahead of time, and if they couldn't agree, then it was a pass. It had been different after Mitch took over the books, partly because he was too controlling and partly because she was always busy. It wasn't until the hot July morning when she'd stopped for gas and had her credit card rejected that she'd begun to worry.
“No problem,” Mitch had assured her when sheâd asked about the card. “I just forgot to tell you I lost it. They've issued new numbers, but it'll take a few days for the cards to arrive.”
Mitch had his faults like everyone else, but he'd always been honest with her, so she'd had no reason for doubt. Then a few days later the bank had called. They were overdrawn.
“What's going on, Mitch?” She'd confronted him the moment he'd walked through the door. “First the credit card, and now the bank.”
“Let it go,” he'd replied, sounding more like his father than the man she'd married. “We agreed I would handle our finances â and I'll handle it.”
“Don't lie to me, Mitch! We've only been here six months. Are we broke?”
“No,” he'd argued. “We aren't broke, just a little short of cash.”
“To me, that's broke!”
“When I get my partnership⦔
Unshed tears burned Charlotte's eyes as shame consumed her. The mention of the elusive partnership had set off the worst argument of their married life. A week later Mitch was gone, and their house of cards lay crumpled at her feet. Since then, she'd put herself on a tight budget and was ever so slowly climbing out of debt.
She couldn't afford the luxury of living at Hidden Hills. The decision to move to Robins Lane had been the last of her cost-cutting measures. Money saved on gas would pay the rent, and the house, which was smaller in size, would be easier to manage.
Although the dark hardwood floors needed stripping, a damp mop had sufficed. As for the walls, she'd done the best she could with some old paint found in the attic. The house was solid and she'd felt a special bond the moment she'd walked in. For the first time since Mitch's death, she was able to close her eyes at night and feel safe.
Circumstances had changed her over the past two years. Not in looks, but in perspective. The boxes stacked in every nook and cranny would have been daunting at one time, but not now. She would survive with God's help. He'd already seen her through her darkest days and given her strength when she had none.