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Authors: Arianna Hart

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BOOK: Son of a Preacher Man
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As the thoughts in her head spun round and round, she caught a flash of light reflecting from the open kitchen window. The witch’s ball she’d given Mary Ellen sparkled in the sunlight. Nadya could see Mary Ellen washing dishes through the screen door. Bill came up behind Mary Ellen to rub her belly. The baby must have kicked because he jumped and they both laughed.

He put his mouth onto the great mound of her stomach and Nadya heard him say, “Hello, baby, this is your daddy.”

The wave of longing that hit Nadya almost brought her to her knees. She wanted what Mary Ellen had so much she could taste it. A nice home, beautiful children and a husband who adored her. And it wasn’t like Mary Ellen had given up her job. She still worked and managed to balance a business and children. The two didn’t have to be mutually exclusive.

Unless you worked in a firm like Nadya’s.

God, she couldn’t think about all of that now. Quite simply, the whole mess scared her half to death, and she just didn’t want to deal with it. She’d had quite enough self-reflection for one day. Confronting her issues hadn’t solved a damn thing so she’d keep dancing around them for the time being, thanks all the same.

“’ti Nad! ‘ti Nad! Push me!” Hunter had managed to sneak out of the house—and his clothes—and held his arms up to her. His chubby little belly pooched out over his diaper, and his blond hair stuck up all over the place.

“I have a feeling your mama is going to be looking for you, little man,” she said as she scooped him up. He smelled like grape jelly and little boy. When she blew a raspberry on his belly, he laughed and kicked his legs.

“Swing me!”

“Yes, sir.” She buckled him into the swing that looked like his booster seat and gave it a gentle shove. Hunter clapped his hands and rocked back and forth, laughing all the time.

“There you are, you little devil. I went to get a washcloth to clean him up and he pulled a Houdini on me.” Mary Ellen joined her by the swing set, still holding a damp wash cloth.

“This one takes after you. He’s gonna give you a run for your money.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I was an angel.”

“Right. You were stubborn as a mule, and I thank God for it. Anyone less obstinate wouldn’t have stood by me all these years.”

“Hello, pot? It’s me, kettle, calling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have my own mulish streak.”

“And the Grand Canyon is just a ditch. Come on, let’s get this guy cleaned up. Bill wants to go over some of the stuff the developer won’t tell you, but you don’t have to do it if you’re not ready.”

Oh, yeah, the land she’d inherited. She hadn’t faced that either. Maybe working sixteen-hour days wasn’t so bad. It didn’t give you much room for introspection.

“No, I want to know all the facts. Hornblower will be back on Wednesday, and I’m sure he’ll want to get a feel for where I stand on the offer.”

“Where do you stand, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I wish I knew. I’ve avoided thinking about it.”

“I guess if anyone could make me not think about seven-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, J.T. McBride could.”

“You better not let Bill hear you say that.”

“Say what?” Bill asked as they walked into the kitchen. He nodded to the open windows.

“That I lust after J.T.’s body,” Mary Ellen said.

“You and every other woman in this town. I thought it was something serious.”

“I’m going to wrestle this guy into some clothes. I’ll try to keep the boys out of your hair for a while. Where’s Billy?”

“Looking for his Wiffle ball and bat. I told him we could play after I talked with Nadya.”

“Try not to break anything this time.”

Bill rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything as Mary Ellen left the room. He had three piles of papers in front of him on the table. One pile had colorful pictures in a glossy collage and the other two looked like reports in plastic covers.

“This,” he said, handing her the colorful pamphlet, “is the material Nokas is giving to the town council and the environmental groups and anyone who will listen. It shows models of the homes they are going to build if they get permission.”

Nadya flipped through the brochure and saw high-end appliances, granite countertops, hardwood floors, all in beautifully decorated rooms with lushly appointed furnishings. The specs called for four- and five-bedroom homes with three full bathrooms, including an optional Jacuzzi tub. On the last page was a drawing of the prospective neighborhood and lots.

In the picture, Deer Creek Road was wider, leading to a two-lane road that went straight through her—or rather J.T.’s—cabin. The creek wasn’t even shown in the drawing, but it looked like one of the lots had a potential house either on it or close by.

She forced back her emotions and focused on it objectively. What were the implications of such huge homes on the area? And did she even care?

“What would that many houses do for Dale?”

“How so? Ecologically or economically?”

“Personally. How does it affect you and Mary Ellen?”

He sat back and sipped at his coffee. “In the short term, it would be great for the store. All those workers need to get something to eat every day. The developer said they’d hire local labor, so some of the guys around here who’ve been out of work since the mill closed will have jobs again. More money coming into the town means more money spent at her store.”

“And in the long term?”

“Nadya, you live in New York City. You know the type of people who can afford those homes. Do you think they’ll be satisfied with what Dale has to offer? There are no restaurants, entertainment or shopping unless you drive into Canton.”

“But there’s plenty of real estate. If there was a demand for those shops, someone could fill the need.”

“Maybe. But for how long? How long do you think it’ll be before those folks in their big fancy houses stop enjoying being an hour away from all the conveniences they’re used to? A year? Three? Then what?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think they’ll either wipe the town center off the map and build a shopping mall or knock it down and build a four-lane highway. Either way, Mary Ellen’s store is gone.”

“What are those?” she asked, pointing to the other two piles of paper.

“This is a report by the environmental firm Nokas hired to evaluate the impact development would have on the ecosystem of the state forest.” He handed her a folder. “This is an independent evaluation the forestry service requested.”

“You don’t expect me to read these, do you? Can you give it to me in a nutshell?”

“It’s about what you would expect. Nokas’s report says the impact will be minimal. That there is enough viable forest for this area to be developed without eliminating any natural species. It mentions nothing about the impact of hundreds of people using a dwindling water table or creating that many septic tanks. Never mind the pollution from that many cars, and that’s after the diesel engines get through spouting their filth into the air.”

“And the independent report?”

“Basically says the water table can’t supply the minimum requirements for that many wells and the destruction of that many acres of forest will have a detrimental impact on both the wildlife and air quality.”

“How can they be so opposite?”

“Because it all depends on what factors you use to calculate the impact. And who’s paying for the report.”

Nadya put her head in her hands and moaned. “Is there anything else you want to tell me about this?”

“Just that when word gets out you have a say in this, the shit’s gonna hit the fan.”

“You mean with the environmentalists?”

“With everyone. Half this town thinks this development could be our salvation. More houses means more kids and more tax money so we could open up the school again. It also means jobs, and there are a lot of folks around here who need ’em.”

“And what does the other half believe?”

“Besides the environmental impact, there are some folks who just plain don’t like change. They don’t want to see Dale become part of the urban sprawl that’s steadily creeping out of Atlanta.”

“I really hate my father right about now. It’s like everything about him is somehow tainted. ‘Here, you can have your childhood home, but you’ll have to wade through a property war first to get it’.”

“It’s not all up to you. The state is fighting it, and the town will have to vote on it too.”

“Then how can Nokas offer me almost a million dollars for the land?”

“It’s a drop in the bucket to them. They buy up property all the time in the hopes of developing it at a future date. If they can’t do anything with it, they’ll sell it off for a loss and take it as a tax break.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about this.”

“I made a point of researching Nokas and his practices when he first started sniffing around. I can’t say I like the man. He’s a tad too shady for my taste.”

“Great, something else to worry about. At least dealing with his ilk is something I’m used to.”

Bill laughed. “Yeah, you’ve been dealing with slimy characters like him all your life from what Mary Ellen’s told me.”

“I’ve had my share. But I’ve also seen some pretty great characters too. Mr. Farley for one.”

“I guess you’re right. I got lucky having him for a father-in-law. Not that he didn’t make me work for it.”

“You appreciate what you work for.”

“You must be talking about Daddy,” Mary Ellen said as she carried a clean and dressed Hunter into the kitchen. Billy tagged along behind her with an oversized, red plastic bat and a plastic ball the size of a grapefruit.

“Yup,” Nadya said with a smile. “Remember how he made us get twice as many driving hours in before he’d let us take the test to get our licenses?”

“How can I forget? He was nice to you. He used to clutch the chicken bar and slam on the imaginary brakes with me. He’d get me so nervous I almost drove into the garage door.”

“You almost drove into the garage door because the cross-country team was jogging by and you were checking them out in the rearview mirror.”

“I was not!” Mary Ellen protested.

“Son, I think it’s time we went outside and did manly stuff like baseball.” Bill herded little Billy to the back door.

“But not Hunter, ’cause he’s just a baby.”

“He can watch from the swing set.”

“Just make sure the gate is locked or he’ll be down the street before you know it,” Mary Ellen called after them. “I love my boys. But I really hope this one’s a girl. I need to even the odds a little. Come keep me company while I fold some laundry. It’s my greatest wish that I will one day have an empty hamper, an empty sink and an hour to myself.”

“How do you do it? I mean, take care of the boys and work at the store and keep the house clean too. Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Always. But it’s a balancing act. I love being home with the boys, but if I didn’t get into the store for a while, I’d go stark raving mad. Going to work gives my brain a little exercise and gives me a chance to feel like I’m actually accomplishing something.”

“How can you say that? I’m amazed at how much you accomplish in an hour.”

“You’re so good for my ego. I know I keep a good house. My mother wouldn’t have had it any other way. But it doesn’t end. There’s no finish line. When I’m done with this load of laundry, there’ll be another waiting. The dishes are done, but the sink will be full before you know it. It’s like being on a hamster wheel—you run and run and run but don’t get anywhere.”

“Work can be like that too.”

“Don’t I know it? But that’s the point. Going in to work gives me a sense of satisfaction and makes me realize how much I love being home with my boys. Spending all morning with the boys makes me appreciate having a few hours to myself to work on the books at the store. See? It all balances out.”

“I guess it does. And you still have the energy to make fantastic dinners and breakfasts for your family.”

“Only since you’ve been here. I’ll admit, half the time we have spaghetti and jarred sauce or grilled cheese if Bill works late. If I made meals like this all the time, I’d have no energy left to seduce my husband.”

“I must be getting used to you, because that didn’t even faze me.”

“Hey, it’s all part of the balance. And it’s fun.”

“Amen to that, sister.”

Chapter Thirteen

Nadya was doing the lunch dishes as Mary Ellen put Hunter down for his nap and Bill played quietly with Billy in the den. Mary Ellen was going into the store for a few hours, and Nadya hadn’t decided if she wanted to join her or hide out in the house. It might be a little awkward staying with Bill knowing how much he wanted to sway her to his point of view. But it would be even more uncomfortable facing a parade of people coming in to gawk at her in the store.

She was still debating which would be worse when the phone rang. Bill hustled over to answer it before it woke up Hunter. How bad could it be at the store? And she might be able to see J.T. there too.

Oh God, what was she, in high school again? If she wanted to see J.T. she could just call him, for heaven’s sake.

BOOK: Son of a Preacher Man
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