Speaking of the she-devil.
“So, Olivia.”
Shaking his head, Sam pointed to the coffee pot that was sputtering the last drops of the rich liquid into the pot. “Olivia is not the same person she was in high school.”
I poured the coffee and made a noise of disbelief. “She’s not a busy-body?”
“Yes, but not as bad.” He took the cup I offered as I sat in the chair across from him. “Her first marriage was really rough on her. It changed her.”
For the first time in my life, I felt rage roll off my best friend. Sam was a gentle alpha male. Yes, he was protective over those he called family and would do what it took to keep them, me included, safe. He was also a compassionate, gentle, caring soul. The word hate wasn’t in his vocabulary.
“What happened?”
He seemed to snap out of his rage induced mood and held my stare for a long few seconds. “I’ll let Olivia tell you when she’s ready.”
It took everything in me not to roll my eyes or groan aloud. I didn’t want to be friends with Olivia. “I might not be in town long enough to get that story.”
Once the coffee pot was empty, I realized it was morning. Sam and I had talked all night. Or was that all morning since it was after midnight when he stopped by. Now it was… 7:00 a.m. “Wow, I totally made you skip out on work.”
Chuckling, Sam rose to his feet and stretched. “I told Drew I was stopping by.”
“Drew?”
“The new sheriff.” Sam’s smile widened and his eyes sparked like they did when he had a plan. I was ignoring all the possible plans he would cook up that involved the new sheriff. I wasn’t dating anyone. Ever. Again. Clay was it for me. Now it’s me and Snooze.
“I’m sure I’ll run into him sooner or later.” I mumbled as I took our coffee cups to the sink. Out of habit, I rinsed them and went to open the dishwasher. Except Winnie didn't have a dishwasher.
Crap on a cracker.
I left the cups in the sink, deciding I’d deal with them later. “So, you’re not in trouble for playing hooky at the witch’s house?”
“Nope. He knew to call if I was needed. Not much happens in Shipton Harbor anyway.” Sam leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
I nodded and walked him to the door. It was true. The town was small and only recently became a tourist town. But still nothing exciting ever happened here. It was easy to feel normal here.
“Have a great rest of your day.” I waved to Sam as he got into his patrol car and drove off.
Closing the door, I scanned the living room, looking for something to do. I didn’t sleep much, especially since Clay died. It didn’t feel right going to bed without him.
Okay, Ava, you are being silly. It’s been five years. It’s time to move on.
Not forget. Just move on.
Besides, I promised Clay I would try.
So, I decided to call the realtor, Betty Knolls. Betty and Auntie were close friends and would most likely know right off what I needed to do to the house to get it on the market.
Now to remember where my phone was.
Ah, my office.
Sure enough, it was on top of the desk, face down. Picking it up, I dialed Betty’s number. She answered on the first ring. At least I thought it was her until I heard the sultry voice on the other end of the connection. “Moonflower Realty.”
Moonflower? I was sure I dialed the right number. “I’m calling for Betty Knolls.”
There was a brief few moments of silence before I got a reply. “Betty is my mother. She retired a few weeks ago. By now she should be enjoying her beach house in Florida.”
“Oh, wow. And good for her.” I didn’t know Betty very well, but I did know she was getting up there in years. “I’m Ava Harper. My aunt was Winnie Howe.”
“Ah, yes. Betty left me some notes that you may return to sell off that gorgeous old Victorian.” She paused then added, “Sorry, I’m Carmen Moonflower. I took over the company and am still getting organized. I hadn’t expected you to call so early.”
I hadn’t either. “I haven’t been to bed yet and thought I’d call before hitting the sack.”
“Good thinking. That way I wouldn’t come over and wake you.” Carmen paused again and I heard muffled talking in the background.
“Am I disturbing you?”
“Oh no, I just arrived at the office. Do you have a pen and paper handy?”
I nodded, realizing she can’t see me. “Yes.”
“As much as I do not want to see you sell the place, I understand.” She let out a soft, sad sigh. “Here is the number of a contracting company owned by a friend that I recommend for all my clients. Just tell whoever answers that I sent you. They will know the name and are expecting you. Jude will know what the old house would need to be updated. Plus, he will keep the historical look to it so we could get the highest offer possible for it.”
I wrote down the number and thanked her. Betty was a psychic and had always known what you needed whether you knew it or not. It didn’t surprise me that her daughter seemed to also have the gift of sight.
After I hung up with Carmen, I called the contractor and made an appointment for tomorrow. I had too much to do today to deal with contractors. First was to try to get some sleep, then I had to get supplies and food.
I glanced at my computer and smiled, feeling accomplished. I got words, four chapters’ worth, and scheduled the contractor to start work. Things were moving along. I just hoped the repairs were minor and I wouldn’t be stuck in town longer than I needed to be.
Chapter Three
I went to bed with a big smile on my face, amazed at how good it felt to be writing again. The sense of accomplishment flowed through me. I’d have another book to send my publisher in no time, and maybe then all my money problems would be less of an issue. If the creativity continued to flow, I was hoping to eliminate the financial strain all together. This was the break I needed. The last of the insurance money went to the college, last month, to ensure Wallie was set, and it was either I got a book out or I got a job. There wasn’t an alternative.
I might have to do both for a while. But before I considered a job, I needed to get the old Victorian on the market and then sold. See what type of timeline I’m working with.
Another amazing thing was that I slept for four uninterrupted hours. I haven’t slept that well since before Clay died. Plus, I woke with a smile on my face. That never happened because I wasn’t a morning person. It took me at least an hour for my brain to wake up.
Not this morning. Even though it was late morning, swiftly approaching noon.
With my smile in place, I stood at the window, drinking my coffee, feeling more peaceful than I had since the love of my life left this earth.
Apparently, this sea air was a miracle worker. I’d have to make a point to go on more beach vacations once the house was sold and I was back home in Philly.
Baby steps. I’ve told myself that for the last five years. That’s what it had been—one baby step after another. I can do this.
Turning away from the window, I set my coffee cup down on the dresser on my way to the bathroom across the hall from my room. I was so looking forward to a semi-cool shower to recharge my senses and wake my ass up. One would think being in Maine in the fall that a hot shower would be better. One would understand if they had premenopausal hot flashes. Why did they call them flashes? I was hot all the time. There were no flashes. It was constant.