Stormy Surrender (New Hope #1) Read online

  Unfortunately, one of the few remaining happy memories he had of her was sitting on that same porch, maybe even in that same spot, as they looked over Hardie samples for this same house. And he remembered how they fought over the color and style. He wanted the Cedar Mill lap siding. It had a wood imprint on it. She wanted smooth. He had envisioned the house in a soft soothing color, like Sail Cloth. She had thought that the scarlet red shade was more their style. It would be interesting to see what color Marti selected. It was obvious that she had her own sense of style, since she had selected slate for the floor.

  When she heard the door groan open, she lifted the sample she had chosen and turned towards him. “This,” she said, confidently, in a voice that suggested she was completely at peace with her choice. And she turned the sample to face him, so he could see it was the Cedar Mill siding in Sail Cloth. It just felt right. She looked to Joey for a reaction.

  She saw him swallow before he spoke. “I think that’ll look nice.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. She could tell it was forced. She just didn’t know why. Marti shrugged. In the end, it didn’t matter what he thought. She was the one who was going to have to live with it. She was the one who paying for it.

  “So, do you need to take measurements?” She asked as she put the samples back in the box and the box back in his case.

  “No, I know how many squares you’ll need,” he said simply.

  “What next?” She asked. She felt all bubbly inside. The excitement was building. Progress was being made. And that always made her happy.

  The afternoon was spent picking everything exterior. She decided on the color and style of the shingles for the home. Thirty year architectural shingles, not in black but instead in a brown shade. Then the windows were chosen. She went with ones that were slightly more expensive than she had planned, but adding transoms over the windows made sense to her. She loved natural light. And in the back she wanted French doors. And more transoms. And if she was going to have that much light coming in, then she needed to make sure the windows were energy efficient. She loved the style. They looked like they had some heft to them, some bulk, a nice decorative frame.

  Each decision became easier. And Joe seemed to approve of and encourage every idea she had. For reasons she couldn’t understand, that mattered to her, which was strange. She was married to Blaine and his opinion on the home had never even been taken into account. He hadn’t liked her colonial style. He hadn’t approved of her wide planked floors. And yet, here was Joey, this guy she had just met, and they were tackling this project together. How he felt about her selections for reasons she couldn’t pretend to understand suddenly felt really important.

  That’s when she finally realized that he had taken to glancing at his phone, checking the time frequently. “Am I keeping you from something important?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her with a smirk at having been caught. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to get really hungry.”

  She tipped her head to the side and assessed how she really felt. “Huh. I guess I’m getting hungry, too. I just was so distracted by the project that I didn’t really think about it.” She met his gaze. “So, do you want to quit for today, or do you want to work over lunch?” It was nearly three o’clock. “Huh. Or I guess we could call it Linner.”

  “Linner?” He questioned.

  She nodded. “If the meal between breakfast and lunch is brunch, then the meal between lunch and dinner is…”

  “Ah. Linner.” He smiled at her. She was a bit quirky. “Where would you like to go?”

  “I’ve been here just a few days. I’ve eaten all my meals at either Laurel’s or Hope House. Don’t ask me.” She smiled and looked at him, waiting for a suggestion.

  “Well, let’s go to Laurel’s,” he offered.

  As they drove, separately, he wondered over his reasoning behind the location of their linner. If pressed, he would admit to having an ulterior motive. Laurel had been giving him the cold shoulder ever since that last time he and Marti had been forced to share a table. She hadn’t had any Texas Pete in stock since, not for his late afternoon snack of fries, not for his early morning eggs. And though she claimed differently, he knew his last few meal portions had been smaller. His fries had been cold. Though he openly admitted he never understood women, he certainly understood that he was being punished. Maybe if he showed her that Marti had forgiven him, she would, too. If there was anything he hated, it was upheaval in his life. He wanted a calm life. That time he spent with Finn was the most exciting time he had ever experienced, both good and bad. And after that, he had been craving calm, needing solitude, seeking peace. Moving into his father’s house had seemed like just the change he needed…and his only option.

  Joe made sure they walked into the café together. He even held the door for her. He would have pulled out her seat, but Marti had already done that for herself. And so he walked around to the other side of the table. He knew Laurel was watching. That was the point.

  “I’ll have the usual,” he said calmly as she walked over to take their order. “Do you have any Texas Pete yet?”

  “I’ll check in back,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. Then she looked at Marti and smiled. “And what would you like?”

  “This is pretty much my first meal of the day. What do you recommend? I just realized…I’m starving!” She smiled at Laurel.

  Laurel looked first at one, then the other and finally spoke. “Okay, I know just the thing.” She left them to talk and returned shortly with a basket for Joey and a platter for Marti.

  Staring at the food, Marti wondered what she was looking at. This was unlike anything she had ever seen previously. “I don’t know what to say,” she began. And really…she didn’t. To begin with, she didn’t recognize half the items sitting in front of her. “And I don’t know what I’m eating.”

  Joey chuckled. “This is New Year’s Day, southern style. Don’t you have any traditions up north?”

  “Not for New Year’s Day. So, is there some significance to…,” she gestured, “this?”

  “Of course,” said Laurel as she pulled over a chair. “So the ham slabs…”

  “Hey, I knew that was ham!” Marti exclaimed. “We do eat that up north.”

  Laurel chuckled. “Yes, but the reason ham is served on New Year’s Day is because the pig is the only animal that can eat while moving forward. That is supposed to be indicative of prosperity.” She pointed to the beans. “Those are black eyed peas. It is said that because they look like small coins…lucky!” She laughed as Marti nodded. “These are collard greens. Green…like money.”

  “I’m catching on,” she nodded. “The corn bread?”

  “Eh, no one really knows. It is simple and tastes good. How about we say that it is about the importance of appreciating a simple life?” Laurel looked up when she saw more people enter the café. She tucked the chair back at the other table. And then she smiled at them one last time before she turned toward the counter.

  “Texas Pete?” Joe questioned in a pleading tone.

  Laurel reached into the pocket of her apron. “Here,” she said absently as she focused on the new customers.

  With a smile, Joe greedily drenched his fries and chicken in the hot sauce. Thoroughly content, he stuffed his mouth and watched as Marti tentatively picked at her meal.

  Before long they were finished eating and had begun talking about the project more when Joey’s phone chimed announcing he had a new text. He opened it, read it, and his entire demeanor changed. “I need to go.” He stood up suddenly and knocked over his chair. His hands were shaking as he picked it up. He looked at her and tried to speak, but stumbled over his words.

  “What if we meet at the house tomorrow morning, say…9am?” He could see that she was trying to act like all of this was no big deal, doing her best to help him calm down.

  “Fine,” he nodded. He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, opened it, yanked out
the first $20 bill he found and dropped it on the table. Then he rushed from the café and didn’t stop until he was sitting in the cab of his truck. He threw his head back against the head rest. His chest was tightening painfully. His head was pounding. He opened the phone again. He had to in order to believe it was real.

  From: Bitch!

  Message: Happy New Year!

  It probably meant nothing. There was nothing personal about it. In his mind, he imagined that she had sent that same message to her entire contact list. That was her style. It made sense that he would be in her phone. He had never changed his phone number. That was what it was. And he was all upset over nothing. The problem was his heart. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to keep her at bay. He never was before. Still, much had changed over the last three years. He wasn’t the same man. And he doubted that she was she same girl. That was a big part of what scared him.

  He drove home, slammed the truck into park, and stormed into the house. It was dinner time, but since he had just eaten he wouldn’t be hungry. The sun was already low in the sky. For the first time in a long time he was thankful for short days and long nights. He walked into the bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror. There was only one way to handle this much stress. He opened up the medicine cabinet and cursed when he realized he had nothing stronger than Tylenol PM. It would have to do. He read the bottle for warnings and the suggested dosage before he decided it didn’t matter. He had abused his body enough over the years that he felt impervious to the ill effects. He counted out five, slammed them toward the back of his throat and swallowed hard, adding water he slurped from scooped hands under the running faucet.

  Walking back out into the bedroom, he kicked off his Lugz, and flopped down on the bed without even taking his clothes off or pulling back the covers. He started to take off his phone to plug it in, but decided against it. Afraid that it might chime while he was sleeping, he threw it across the room into his closet. At the moment he didn’t even care if he couldn’t find it in the morning. Then he closed his eyes and decided to sleep until it was a new day.

  Since she really didn’t have anywhere to be, Marti sat and worked on her To Do lists while she sipped on a hot tea. She was so deep in thought that she barely noticed when Laurel sat across from her. She didn’t realize that she was the last one in the café, or that the café was closed for the day. It took Laurel clearing her throat before she even looked up.

  “I would let you stay here as long as you want, but I have a dog that has been stuck inside all day and I need to get home while there is still a home to go to,” Laurel explained as she peeked at Marti’s paper. “Whatcha working on?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” She exclaimed apologetically. “I didn’t even think. Today has me all thrown off.” She smiled and turned the papers so Laurel could read them. “I bought a house.” She about squealed, she was so proud and excited. “And Joey is helping me fix it up!”

  There was a sigh. A loud sigh. The kind of sigh that made Marti suddenly second guess everything. She shrank a little in her seat and pulled her papers back before speaking. And by then it was too late. The feisty café owner was going to have her say first.

  “I’m pretty sure there is no one in this town that would speak an ill word about Joe, for the most part,” she began. “He is always quick to lend a hand. He’s reliable. Lord knows he’s easy on the eyes. The quality of his work is second to none. And he never cheats anyone…except maybe the women in his life. And please note that I used the plural version intentionally.”

  Confusion was evident on Marti’s face from her scrunched up brows and wrinkled forehead to the serious line her mouth formed. “And what does that have to do with me?” She asked, feeling for reasons she couldn’t explain…a bit hurt.

  “Joe is adorable, but he’s not for you.” And with that, Laurel stood and headed back toward the kitchen. “I’m just going to lock up the back. Are you about done?”

  Nodding, she gathered her paperwork, stood, tucked in her chair and headed out the door before Laurel had even returned from the kitchen. She wouldn’t have known what to say to her anyway. It didn’t matter. His personal life had nothing to do with her. She had her own life to contend with. And it was reassuring to hear that he was as skilled as she had hoped when it came to working on her dream project.

  She drove back to Hope House feeling incredibly morose. She told herself it was because of the text message that Blaine had left her. She imagined that the stress of the last few days was simply taking a toll. Only…there was a part of her mind that kept slipping back to Joey. She remembered the look of pain that flashed across his face from his own text message. Something in her had wanted to make him forget that hurt. And some part of her being was still in denial as to how she intended to make that happen.

  Though her mind was other places, she managed to make it into Hope House without a problem and up to her room without running into Keely. Once she had the door closed behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief. And for the first time since she’d been a guest, she locked the door. She knew what she had to do with this moment of quiet. All day, the text message had been weighing on her. All day she struggled with what to say to Blaine, when was the best time for her to call. Finally, it was time. She couldn’t wait any longer.

  The phone rang several times before Blaine answered. His very breathing already announced his annoyance. “What, Martha?” He asked.

  “I don’t get a proper greeting even?” She asked trying to make light of the situation. “And what was up with that text message today? That was a funny way to start the New Year.” She was trying to make light of things. In her mind, she knew the truth. In her heart, she suddenly feared that she might always be alone. And at the moment, she still believed life with Blaine was a better sentence than a solitary life.

  “It wasn’t meant to be funny,” he said seriously. “I’m not moving. I want a divorce.”

  At first she didn’t know what to say. Her throat hurt suddenly and she kept swallowing like she was struggling to keep something down. “Why would you let me move down here by myself? Why would you have me buy a house? Why would you let me think we were going to have this…this life?” She was pacing around the room now. She looked down at her left hand, saw how the engagement ring rolled on her hand like it had already given up. Disgusted, she pulled it off, threw it in her toiletry bag on the bathroom sink and waited for his response.

  “Did you really think I was going to move away from here, from this life? It took me a long time to build this. I finally have the right people working under me to make this practice highly successful.” He all but sneered as he spoke. She could hear it in his voice.

  “Like Suzette?” She asked angrily. “You like having her work under you?” She knew from the sharp intake of breath that she had guessed right. She sank onto the bed and leaned her head up against one of the cool mahogany posts. “So where do we go from here?” She asked quietly.

  “I told you. I’m going to a lawyer. We’re getting a divorce. If there’s anything you want, you should come get it.” His voice was cold.

  “I don’t exactly have anywhere to put things at the moment, Blaine,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “They must have a Self-Storage down there someplace. Find it!”

  And in that one moment, Marti recognized that he was still trying to push her around, still trying to control her. Her spine straightened. She stood angrily. Too bad he couldn’t see her, but only hear her. “I will come get my things when I am good and ready. In the meantime, you will see that they remain undamaged. And you might want to start thinking about alimony.” She ended the call. Once again she was reminded how much she missed some aspects of having more rudimentary technology. Back when she and Blaine were dating, she would get so much satisfaction from slamming the phone down to hang up on him. It wasn’t the same with an iPhone.

  She barely slept. That’s what she realized as she tossed and turned and watched the clock slowly
mark the passing of the night. She had paced until nearly midnight. She tried to get the wi-fi to work, but when it wouldn’t; she decided to simply pass time until she could go to Charlotte. She would find a nice place to eat breakfast, and do some research before she came back to the sleepy little town she was now calling home…all alone.

  After tossing and turning for a few more hours on a bed that had been comfortable just the night before but now might as well have been a bed of nails instead of a pillow top, she gave up. It was four o’clock. She stood, stretched, and decided to shower. At least she’d have plenty of hot water as she tried to wash away her problems. With that done, she dressed, and dried her hair. She applied make up for the first time in days. And she quietly made her way down the stairs. Even though she had wasted as much time as possible, moved as slowly as she could, and allowed herself to be distracted by any thought that came to mind, it was still only 5:30am. With the half hour drive to Charlotte, she should be there just in time for restaurant openings.

  There was no one on the main floor when she hit the entry way. There was no noise from the kitchen. And therefore, she didn’t have to talk to anyone, which was pretty much what she had hoped. Heading out the door, she walked out into the frosty dark morning and crunched across the driveway to her flaming orange vehicle. If she had been uncomfortable with how loud the color of the vehicle was before, now that she knew Blaine had selected it and that he wasn’t going to be around driving it, she wanted nothing to do with it.

  Her list was growing.

  Remodel the house so she could move into her own space and move on with her new single life.

  Trade the Saturn Vue in for something more her style.