Cooper's Deale Part 3

Addy frowned. "Well, in the morning, Grandma's lawyer is going to read her will. I guess we'll find out more then."

"And what about me?"

She barely heard Tommy's question, but the desolate sound of his voice stabbed her heart, and she didn't know what to say. What indeed would become of them both?

"Mind if I join you?"

Addy admired Karen's casual saunter as she approached.

She didn't have the energy to tell her no, or to get up and leave.

Besides, Karen was the one person she knew, and she needed the company. She scooted across the seat to make room.

"Can I get you anything?" Karen asked.

Addy shook her head. "No, thanks." They swayed back and forth in the swing, listening to the sounds of the night. She felt the heat pulse from Karen's body, or was it her own? Karen's thigh barely grazed hers, yet it felt like a hot poker, branding her with Karen's mark.

"Kinda like old times, isn't it?" Karen softly observed.

"No." Addy sighed tiredly. "It's not. My grandmother is dead, I lost my job as well as my partner back in California, and I feel like I'm adrift in a storm, barely able to keep my head above water."

Karen stared at her. "Geez, Addy, I didn't know about that other stuff. I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"

Addy laughed mirthlessly. "I haven't a clue. But there's always tomorrow. I'll work something out."

"I meant what I said before. If I can do anything, you know I will. Forget about what happened. You need help now."

"I can't forget. You can't come waltzing back into my life after all this time and expect me to welcome you with a kiss. It's just not that easy."

"Why not? Dammit, Addy, we're not kids anymore."

"Because," Addy spluttered, unable to come up with a reason. She fumbled around for a few seconds more but still couldn't explain her feelings to Karen, let alone herself. Karen's mouth was slightly open, her lips moist as though she was about to speak. Her sensuous appearance distracted Addy, and she froze. She wanted to feel those lips on hers, wanted the strong arms wrapped around her as she remembered the way they felt.

Why couldn't she let instinct take over and make everything all right again?

"Because we're not kids anymore." Addy got up from the swing and ran back into the house.

CHAPTER SIX.

Addy left the attorney's office the next morning even more confused. She had hoped the will would resolve some of her problems, but it stipulated that as long as Tommy lived, the farm and the nine acres could not be sold. All hope of selling the farm to provide for Tommy's support disappeared, and Addy was in more desperate financial circ.u.mstances than she had imagined. She now needed to determine the cost of taxes, upkeep, and utilities.

She drove over to the Happy Harbor, which hadn't changed one bit. In fact, nothing about the town was different. While she had changed, everything else had remained the same, and she continued to feel strangely out of place.

Instead of entering the bar, she walked past the building to the deck in back. The Happy Harbor sat along Rockhold Creek, the charter fishing boats and pleasure craft densely packed on either side. She stood at the railing as a small fishing boat chugged into the Chesapeake, and when it finally disappeared, she walked into the restaurant. Threading her way among the tables covered with red-checkered plastic tablecloths, she entered the crowded, smoke-filled bar.

"Addy," Dee-Dee shrieked.

Addy held her arms wide open to her old friend and clung to her. Dee-Dee looked the same, although a few lines were etched in the skin around her eyes and mouth, a testament to her heavy smoking. Her long blond hair, streaked with darker shades of green and purple, hung straight down her back.

"Girl, let me see you." She held Addy at arm's length. "Wow. Fantastic. It's true what they say about California keeping you younger and healthier. Are you a vegetarian too?"

"Are you kidding?" Addy laughed. "G.o.d, it's so good to see you."

"I'm sorry about your grandmother."

"Yeah." Addy quickly sobered.

"How's Tommy taking it?"

"It's rough, on both of us, but he'll be all right. I just don't know where to go from here. I lost my job, Maureen left me, and Grandma's will says I can't sell the farm."

"s.h.i.t," Dee-Dee said. "What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea, but you know how my luck is. It can only get worse."

"Now don't start about your luck and all again." Dee-Dee poked Addy with her finger for emphasis. "Let me pour you a beer." She returned behind the counter.

"It's true, and you know it, Dee-Dee. I've had awful luck all my life, and this is just more of the continuing saga." Addy squeezed between a couple of tattooed bikers absorbed in the game on television as Dee-Dee slid a Michelob Light onto a cardboard coaster and refilled a few other empty gla.s.ses at the bar.

"So, how've you been?" Addy asked, wanting to change the subject. "What's new with you?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old. Still working here, still single, still getting it when I can." She grinned.

"You got that right, baby," a burly biker with a red bandana wrapped around his head commented.

"Later, Blackjack," Dee-Dee said, and winked.

"Man, this place is more crowded than I remember."

"Tourist season is starting." Dee-Dee lit a cigarette and inhaled sharply. "Hey, if you need a job, I can probably get you something waitressing here."

"Thanks, but it's going to take more than that to keep the farm going. I noticed some water stains on the ceiling in the kitchen and a broken window in one of the bedrooms. The exterior needs painting and G.o.d knows what else I'll find. I have some money put away, and if I sell the house in Oakland, it'd probably be enough to make the repairs, get the place in shape, and tide me and Tommy over for a while."

Addy suddenly realized she had decided to sell the house in Oakland and was surprised at how little emotion that decision entailed. Nothing was left for her back in California. She had bought the house with the money her parents left her and never bothered to add Maureen to the t.i.tle. She could do with it what she wanted.

"Well"-Dee-Dee squinted through a curlicue of smoke-"the tourists are always needing a place to stay. There ain't any hotels to speak of in the area, and a regular in here is always talking about how much money he and his wife make during the summer with their bed-and-breakfast and charter-fishing boat. I think they charge a hundred to one-fifty a night. The rich people from Annapolis and DC always want a getaway on weekends. Your place is huge. Why not turn it into a B and B?"

Addy hadn't considered the possibility, but after she quickly calculated in her head, she told Dee-Dee, "I don't think I could pull in enough money during the summer to make it viable."

Dee-Dee shrugged. "Well, then rent it year-round. Some of the locals need places to live, and we don't have much in the way of apartments either. Your house is right on the water, very nice and picturesque."

Addy let the suggestion bounce around in her brain. While she didn't particularly like the idea of being a landlord, she could put the needed funds into her coffers with very little work. It was a possible solution, anyway. "But what about Tommy? What would people think of having a grown man living in a tree house in the backyard?"

"Tommy's harmless, everyone knows that. He's been up in that tree for fifteen years and has never come down."

Addy's mind raced. If she could find a local contractor to paint the exterior, it would make a world of difference. She'd need someone to inspect the interior as well. But she still wasn't sure about the idea and wanted to talk to Tommy about it first.

Either Tommy didn't fully comprehend the implications of having strangers in the house, or he didn't care. He was more absorbed in watching the inlet and seemed distracted.

Addy worried that once she got her first renter, he might react differently. But she couldn't worry about that now. She had to go forward with the house repairs.

Dee-Dee recommended Dale Olson, Jeff Olson's older brother, as a contractor. She had hired him to repair both her house and the Happy Harbor. Dale had gone to high school with them, and Addy vaguely recalled a gangly, pockmarked kid.

He appeared precisely the same but older, as they all were, she supposed.

"The house is structurally sound, Addy," Dale said after his inspection. "Some pipes need fixin', especially in the upstairs bathroom at the end of the hall. The kitchen could stand to be brought up to date, but that's your call. Other than that, the exterior needs some minor repairs, and a good coat of paint would definitely help."

"When can you begin?" Addy was relieved that was all he recommended.

"Pick out your paint colors and we'll get started next Monday morning."

Dale showed up early that morning, a little more than a week after Addy's arrival in Deale, with Jeff in tow. Jeff was only ten years old, but with school out for the summer, he tagged along so he could hang out with Tommy. Occasionally he would help his brother on the house to earn some extra money.

While Dale and an a.s.sociate installed the scaffolding, Addy drove to town to place an ad in The Deale Picayune about renting her rooms. She decided Dee-Dee's suggestion was at least worth a try, but if she couldn't find people she liked, she wouldn't rent to them.

"Save your money, Addy," the editor of the paper told her. "I know a couple of people wanting to rent. One of them knew your grandmother. Do you recall Fern Bush, the librarian?"

Addy winced. Everybody knew Fern Bush to be the town gossip and know-it-all. She could talk the ears off a mule and bore you to death. But Fern had known Tommy since he was a child. In fact, she had been the first to introduce him to the variety of Maryland birds, being an avian enthusiast and member of the Audubon Society. She had established Deale's local chapter and led small groups on outings along the Chesapeake. Before Tommy relegated himself to his tree house, he had been the only child to accompany the group, and he loved the excursions. For Tommy's sake, she could tolerate Fern.

"Sure, tell her to come see me, and anyone else you know. I'll at least talk with them." She was surprised at how quickly she decided to accept Fern. In no time she had gone from living in California with her girlfriend to beginning a new life in Maryland with a boarding house. She examined her emotions to see how she felt about the change, but oddly, she didn't seem to mind.

Fern Bush extricated herself from her Mini Cooper and waddled to Addy's front door. The woman was in her mid-sixties and had to be nearly six feet tall and weigh three hundred pounds.

She commanded any room she happened to be in, and visitors to the public library rarely talked above a whisper when she was around. Supposedly she'd buried three husbands, none of any merit save their incomes, and didn't need to work. But she had been the librarian since anyone could remember and refused to give up the power and control of her private domain.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bush." While Addy had quite naturally used the t.i.tle "Ms." in California, using it in Deale, specifically with Fern Bush, would have been unthinkable. The liberated term would have offended Fern.

"Addy," Fern huffed as she climbed the steps to the porch, "I believe the risers on those steps are an inch above standard, don't you? They could wear a person out over time."

Addy restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "I'll have Dale Olson check them when he comes back tomorrow."

"Dale Olson? He's doing the work on your house? Why, that boy never so much as checked out a magazine. He doesn't have the brains of a gnat, but then, how much intelligence does it take to hold a paintbrush?"

"Dale does more than paint, Miss Bush. He's a general contractor and has to know quite a bit about a lot of things."

Fern peered at Addy as though questioning her opinion.

"Hmm, we'll see, won't we?" After staring at her for a few moments, Fern placed her hands on her hips. "Well, are you going to show me inside or what?"

Addy nearly jumped. "Of course, excuse my manners. Come on in."

She showed Fern the downstairs living areas, then upstairs where most of the bedrooms were. In the large corner bedroom at the front of the house, Fern hesitated, then lumbered to the window.

"I like being able to see who's coming and going," she commented. "You can't be too safe nowadays."

Addy merely nodded. She held her breath, knowing that if the house could pa.s.s Fern's muster, anyone else would be easy to please.

Fern scanned the sunny room and ran her hand over the coverlet on the bed. The furniture was all Addy's grandmother's and emphasized the room's country decor. For a moment, Addy feared Fern would decline.

"How much did you say the rent was?"

Addy smiled. She had her first tenant.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

By the end of the week, Addy had her second tenant, a retired fisherman, Chauncey Velasquez. He was originally from Mexico, where he had worked as a commercial fisherman for forty years before arriving in Deale two years ago.

A short, slight man, Chauncey wore a very thin mustache and had haunted black eyes. Addy liked him because he was quiet and kept to himself. He had also taken up gardening in his retirement, offering to do what he could, and Addy was thrilled to give him full run of the grounds. In return, she cooked his meals.

At first, Fern wasn't happy that a strange man would be living in the house. But when she discovered that Chauncey loved to read about gardening, she quickly obtained him a library card, and he spent most mornings improving his knowledge while he sat in the screened-in porch. He said reading helped with his English, and Addy realized Fern liked nothing better than to educate someone. One afternoon, Fern brought Chauncey a book on topiaries, and he embraced the art form immediately, unleashing his artistic apt.i.tude on the shrubbery.

Best of all, Tommy seemed to take the appearance of the new residents in stride. He said only that Fern looked like a seagull, her large mouth squawking all the time and her gullet constantly moving up and down. Chauncey resembled a frog-no chin and bulging eyes.

Fern, recalling Tommy's outings as a child with her Audubon group, placed birding books in his bucket and sent them up to him, delighting him with the pictures. And when Chauncey pruned dead branches and cleared a path in the tree that obscured his view of the inlet, Tommy was ecstatic. For the first time since Addy could remember, she felt as though things were going right in her life. She kept her fingers crossed.

Tommy perched on the edge of his nest and tried to find stray animals in his territory. Something tan and blue caught his attention, and he stared at the bank across the inlet. The crane who had hidden in the weeds and mud behind the tractor was running along the waterline, his camera flopping around his neck. He headed straight for the water and jumped in, holding his camera up high like he was trying to keep it from getting wet. In a minute, the three men who lived in the house barreled down the hill after him. They dove into the water too, and Tommy fumbled for his binoculars to get his bird's-eye view of what was going on.

The three men were gaining on the first one, and when the crane stumbled onto the banks of Cooper property, he went down and the pelican caught up. They tumbled to the ground, arms and legs kicking and hitting. Tommy was curious about this commotion, wishing he could circle overhead and see better.

The pines and tall gra.s.s were in the way, and he wondered what was going on. But if he was patient, he would know everything.

He would wait until the men went away, then see what had happened.

His grandma believed he never came down from his nest, but Tommy had kept it a secret. He didn't want anyone to know he flew anywhere he wished, but only when everybody was asleep.

He was a night bird and liked the quiet and freedom of the dark.

During the day, too many people were around-nosy people who poked fun at him. At night, he could be himself.

These men coming into his territory upset him. He had never seen anybody on his grandma's land except for the people she had known about. Once in a while, a fisherman on the water would pa.s.s by, trolling for smaller fish or crabbing. But this was new to him, and he stood as still as he could, waiting for the men to leave. After a while, the three men from the house walked real slow back into the water. The snipe stopped when the water was up to his knees, then turned around in Tommy's direction. For a minute, Tommy was afraid he was looking right at him, and he held his breath. But pretty soon the man continued on his way, swimming back to the other side of the inlet.

Tommy waited, wondering when the crane would come out of the tall gra.s.s. He couldn't possibly leave the area without Tommy seeing him. Either he would have to swim back across the inlet or come up onto Cooper property. Maybe he was playing down by the banks, like Tommy did at night a lot of times, hunting for signs that other creatures moved about on sh.o.r.e.

The longer Tommy waited, the more curious he became when the man didn't show up. A car came down the road, and Addy parked in the driveway. She was carrying some brown paper bags, groceries of some kind, and he wondered what she would bring him for his lunch. All this activity had made him hungry.

A short time later, Addy brought a tray out into the yard and placed it on the picnic table.