Starting Over in Maple Bay by Brittney Joy

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

 

 

As soon as the truck stopped, Hazel’s parents—Sandy and Peter—opened the doors and stepped out. Grace ran to her Grandma and Sandy opened her arms. Peter walked around the truck and joined his wife, worry on his face as he coddled his grandchild. Hazel could hear their concerned questions as she approached.

“What’s the matter, my sweet child?” Sandy cooed. Her shoulder-length silver bob sparkled in the sunshine. She tilted Grace’s chin up. “Why are you crying?”

Grace sniffled and pressed her face into Sandy’s blouse. When Grace didn’t answer, Sandy draped her arms around her and looked at Hazel with pleading eyes. “What’s wrong?” she mouthed.

Hazel sighed, thinking she might’ve overreacted when the riding lessons were brought up. She approached and crouched down next to Grace. She put a hand on her daughter’s back.

“Grace, it worries me to have you around such big animals. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Grace peeked out from her Grandma’s blouse, and her wet eyelashes broke Hazel’s heart. Grace wasn’t one of those kids that threw tantrums. She didn’t cry to get her way. Her feelings had been truly hurt, and Hazel felt horrible for reacting so brashly. She should’ve taken the time to think it through.

“How about I talk more with Frankie about the lessons?” Hazel brushed a wispy tendril from her daughter’s cheek. She could tell how much Grace wanted to ride. “Listen, I promise you’ll get time with the horses this summer. I just want to make sure your time with them is safe.”

Grace blinked her brown eyes and gave Hazel a sad excuse for a smile. “You’ll talk with Frankie?”

“Yes.” Hazel kissed Grace on the forehead. “Now give your Grandma and Grandpa big hugs. They packed up our stuff and drove it all the way here.”

Grace wiped her eyes before grabbing her grandma around the waist. “Thank you. Are you guys staying here too?” She gave her grandpa a big hug too.

“No, they’re headed out on their big camping adventure,” Hazel said, knowing her parents had been planning a month-long road trip for the past year.

“Yep,” Peter replied. “After we get you two settled, Sandy and I are off to the Boundary Waters for the first stop of the summer. We’ll be canoeing by this afternoon.” Peter was beyond excited for this camping trip. He was already in his fishing gear. Sandy was less of a fan of the woods and water but agreed to the trip if they bought a camper.

“You guys are going to have so much fun.” Hazel kissed her mother on the cheek and hugged her father.

“I sure hope so.” Sandy laughed.

“Oh, we sure are,” Peter replied. “But you just say the word and we’ll setup camp right here.”

Hazel smiled, knowing she’d won the lottery when Sandy and Peter adopted her. “No, no. You guys go and have fun. Grace and I are just fine. This will be an adventure for us too.” Though Hazel hoped it wouldn’t be too much of an adventure.

“We’re just a call away if you need us. You know we’d come back in a jiffy,” Sandy said, and Peter agreed with a serious nod.

Last night when Hazel called her parents to tell them about the will and the property, she knew they’d do everything possible to support her decision. In fact, they would’ve packed her bags and driven to Maple Bay last night if Hazel hadn’t insisted that they get some rest. Her parents were nearing seventy, and didn’t need to be on an unnecessary goose-chase down dark country roads.

Sandy patted both Hazel and Grace on the shoulders. “Anything for you two. Now, where should we put your stuff? It’s all in the back of the truck. We packed all your summer clothes and a few boxes of household things. The neighbor’s son loaded it all up for us this morning.”

“We’re staying in Frankie’s guest room until we can move into the carriage house. Grace and I will take it all up there, but first, let’s get you guys some iced tea. Did you eat lunch?”

“We already ate, but iced tea sounds lovely,” Sandy replied.

“Grace, can you go get your grandparents some iced tea? I’m going to unload our stuff from the truck.”

“Sure.” Grace smiled softly, seeming content with the hope Hazel had given her about riding.

When Grace walked toward the deck, Sandy asked, “What was that about?”

“Oh, Grace wants to take riding lessons, but I’m not so sure. Seems dangerous.”

Hazel expected her mother to immediately agree with her. Instead she raised an eyebrow.

“Let the child ride a horse,” Sandy said. “Isn’t that every girl’s dream?”

“She’ll have a blast,” Peter added. 

Hazel’s mouth popped open. “You guys didn’t even let me get a dog when I was a kid.” Hazel vividly remembered begging for a dog. She wanted one just like the neighbor’s bouncing Golden Retriever.

“Well, that’s different. A dog lives inside the house, and I didn’t want to clean up after all that hair. But maybe I should’ve let you get one anyhow.” Sandy squeezed Hazel’s arm. “Besides, you can’t protect Grace from everything. What are you going to do when she starts driving?”

Hazel shuddered at the thought. “I might have to bubble-wrap her.”

Sandy and Peter chuckled, but for a second, Hazel seriously considered where she could buy bubble-wrap in bulk. In six short years Grace would be driving. On the road. By herself.

“Life is moving too fast,” Hazel admitted, to her parents and to herself.

“It does that. Seems to get faster every year. Wait until you’re our age. Months go by in the blink of an eye. That’s why you need to savor the moment. Eat the cake. Buy the shoes. Ride the horse.” Sandy’s eyes crinkled at her last suggestion. 

“Okay, Mom. I’ll let her ride the horse.” Hazel shook her head light-heartedly at her mother’s cavalier attitude as a grandmother. There was no way Sandy would’ve allowed Hazel to ride a horse when she was a child.

Sandy winked at her. “Good choice.”

A stampede of quick footsteps grabbed Hazel’s attention and she turned to find all three boys running toward her. Grace was behind them, trying not to spill two mason jars full of iced tea. Jesse walked with her.

Tommy arrived first. “Momma said we need to carry some stuff upstairs.” He peeked at the truck and looked excited. Wyatt and Noah were seconds behind him.

“Who are all these handsome little men?” Sandy asked, pressing her hands together.

“I’m Tommy. And these are my little brothers, Wyatt and Noah.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Sandy said and gave them each a hug. Peter shook their hands like they were little adults. “I’m Sandy, Hazel’s mother, and this is Peter, Hazel’s father.”

Noah pointed behind him. “And that’s our Uncle Jesse.”

Jesse tipped the brim of his baseball hat at Sandy and shook Peter’s hand. “Nice to meet you both. Grace said you have some suitcases to unload?”

“We do,” Sandy replied.

“That’d be great if you big strong boys could help us with them,” Peter said, and the boys ran to the truck. Jesse opened the tailgate and started unloading suitcases.

Grace offered her grandparents the full mason jars. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Sweets.” Sandy took a sip.

“Those might be too heavy for the boys to carry,” Hazel said, but Jesse was already delegating boxes.

“We’ve got it,” Jesse replied without looking back. “Why don’t you take your parents to the deck to enjoy their iced tea? Frankie would like to meet them.”

Hazel had intended to take her parents over and introduce them to Frankie. She also knew Jesse was helping her, but she couldn’t help but feel miffed. Why did he keep sticking his nose in her business? 

“Thank you, Jesse,” Sandy replied, and put her hand on Hazel’s arm to steer her toward the deck. “That sounds like a great idea.”

As Hazel and her parents walked toward the deck, Hazel glanced back. Jesse had all the kids lined out. Tommy and Wyatt were double-teaming one of the smaller suitcases, each holding an end. Grace had a stack of linens and a quilt. Noah hung tight to two pillows. They all shuffled their way toward the house. Jesse flipped two large suitcases on their sides and grabbed the handles, carrying them like they weighed nothing.

Sandy looked over her shoulder. “He’s certainly a tall drink of water.” She sipped her tea and side-eyed Hazel as she waited for a response.

“He’s something.” Hazel looked forward, not wanting a tall drink of water in her life. Especially one that inserted himself where he wasn’t needed.

“The boys’ uncle?”

“A friend.”

Sandy made a sound like she was mulling over the meaning of that word. “Could he be your friend?”

“Not likely.” Hazel gave her mother a look, but figured the question was coming. In the past few months, Sandy had been gently and not-so-gently urging Hazel to date again. But Hazel wasn’t ready.

Jesse was a good-looking man. It wasn’t like Hazel hadn’t noticed. She had eyes. But one act of chivalry wasn’t enough to impress Hazel. Hazel had given Bill over fifteen years of her life, and when she married him, she would’ve never guessed he’d betray her. She thought she knew him. She thought he loved her. But she’d learned from her mistakes, and she wasn’t about to make them again.

After lunch, Hazel drove her parents, Frankie, and Grace over to the carriage house. There were a few boxes to drop-off which contained mostly dishes and décor—nothing Hazel or Grace would need while they stayed with Frankie. After hauling the boxes inside, Hazel found she wanted to explore. With her parents here, it somehow felt more real that she and Grace were going to make this their home for the summer.

“This is such a beautiful building. So much history.” Sandy brushed her hand over the black leather harnesses that hung on the wall. “When I was a little girl, there were still quite a few working carriage houses in our town. It’s a shame so many of them were torn down for new construction.”

“This building is over a hundred years old,” Frankie said. “Actually, there’s a picture upstairs of the original owners not long after they built the carriage house. Helen and Thomas Benson. In the picture, they’re all dressed up and sitting in a carriage hitched to a big Belgian horse. Mom found the picture in the library’s newspaper files and had it reprinted. It’s pretty neat.”

“I’d love to see it,” Sandy and Peter said at the same time.

“I would too,” Hazel added. “Actually, I haven’t seen the upstairs yet. Let’s go look.”

Yesterday had been a whirlwind and Hazel hadn’t ventured into the hayloft to assess the state of the apartment. She hoped it wouldn’t take too much work. She didn’t want to overstay her welcome in Frankie’s house.

Grace ran upstairs first, and Hazel wasn’t sure what to think of her daughter’s silence. When Hazel reached the top of the stairs, she found herself falling in suit with her daughter’s stunned face.

“Oh my,” Hazel muttered, taking in the open space which looked like . . . an old hayloft.

“This is where we’re going to live?” Grace asked, tentatively.

One side of the loft had an angled ceiling and dormer windows. The side that faced the lake had no windows at all, but featured a square wooden door which Hazel guessed was the door that would’ve been used to fill the loft with hay. There were old kitchen cabinets stacked in a corner, not hung on a wall. A sink sat haphazardly in another corner. There wasn’t a bathroom. The only light was a single, bare bulb that hung from the ceiling.

“I thought you said it just needed appliances,” Hazel said to Frankie, looking around like she’d stumbled into the wrong room.

“It does.” Frankie’s voice had gone up an octave, like she was trying to be extra chipper. She started pointing at things. “It’s plumbed for a kitchen and a bathroom. All the electrical is in and the far corner is piped for a wood stove. Actually, the wood stove is downstairs under the tarp, along with some furniture Mom had been gathering for the loft and the other rooms she was going to rent out.”

Capped pipes and colored wires protruded from walls. Hazel quickly realized how much money and work it was going to take to transform this space into a livable area. Her excitement started to sink.

“It’s a blank slate.” Frankie was trying to sweeten the pot. “You can make it however you like.”

Hazel didn’t know what to say. She’d expected to put in a few days, or maybe a week of hard work. At best, it would be a month before the loft would be a functioning space. And how was she going to front the money to fix it up? At the end of the summer Hazel would officially own the carriage house and she could sell the property, but right now, her bank account was practically bare. Hence the reason she was living with her parents.

“It’s got good bones,” Peter said, and touched one of the big beams that ran along the angled roof.

“And aren’t these dormers sweet?” Sandy bent down to peer into one of the dormer windows. She peeked back at Grace. “Would be a great place to curl up with a book.”

Sandy was the eternal optimist. Hazel had become a realist, especially over the past few years, and she saw the reality of what lay before her. 

“I guess.” Grace cocked her head, like she was trying to see what her grandma saw.

Frankie pushed her hands into her jean pockets like she felt bad for overexaggerating the state of the loft. “Like I said, I’m more than happy to help you work on the place. And Garrett is real handy. He actually did the electrical in here.”

Hazel looked at Frankie, confused. Frankie had three kids, a barn full of horses, and was a riding instructor. How much extra time could she possibly have? Plus, Hazel hadn’t even met Garrett yet.

“This is a lot more work than I thought it would be.” Hazel kept herself from saying she was barely squeaking by on the child support Bill sometimes paid her. She didn’t have any extra cash to support a fixer-upper. Since the divorce, Hazel hadn’t even applied for a credit card, knowing her credit had been trashed by all the bad financial decisions made in her marriage. She often wanted to kick herself for letting Bill handle all their finances, for being so naive.

Sandy put her hand on Hazel’s arm and guided her across the loft, closer to the stack of cabinets that were in dire need of new paint. “Is it the money you’re worried about?”

“I mean—” Hazel started as she looked around the loft. There were projects she knew she could do—cleaning, sanding, painting. She’d even learned some basic plumbing skills. Bill worked long hours, and she’d been in a few watery predicaments before. But where would she come up with the funds to buy all the supplies? The appliances? Hire anyone to help her?

“Your father and I could help you. We could loan you the money.”

Hazel broke out of her ricocheting thoughts and looked at her mother. Her sweet, sweet mother. Hazel knew Sandy wanted to help. Her parents had always been there for her, through thick and thin, but they’d never had a ton of money themselves and now they were just starting to enjoy their golden years.

Hazel shook her head. “You and Daddy have worked hard. You deserve to enjoy this time of life. Don’t you worry about me. I’ve got ideas for this place.”

“Well, you know we’re just a call away.” Sandy smiled, but kept her hand on Hazel’s arm, like she wasn’t quite sure of her answer.

Tomorrow, Hazel would go into Maple Bay and search for a job. There had to be something she could do over the summer. Just as she decided this, Grace turned the latch that secured the square, wooden hay-door. Hinges creaked as the door opened, exposing a breathtaking view of the lake. For a second, Hazel pictured big, tall windows on that side of the loft where she could soak in the picturesque lake view every morning, noon, and night. But her vision was cut short when the hinges somehow burst apart, and the door toppled to the ground. Hazel gasped and put her hand to her mouth as the wooden door crashed against the patio below.

“Oops,” Grace said, looking back at her mother with a wide-eyed apology.

Hazel walked over and stuck her head out the opening. The door was still in one piece, but it was now amongst the life jackets and Adirondack chairs below.

Frankie, Sandy, and Peter joined her at the new window.

“Beautiful view,” Sandy said.

Hazel tried to channel the optimism of her mother, even as the house she’d just inherited fell apart before her eyes. “I think we better make use of that tarp downstairs to keep the birds out until I can get this fixed.”

“I’ll go get it, Momma,” Grace offered and ran for the stairs.

As she did, Hazel spotted Frankie’s boys. They were in swimsuits, splashing in the shallows along the shore. A man was walking toward them, in swim trunks and a white t-shirt. Hazel squinted her eyes at him. Was that Jesse? He had a beach ball under his arm and looked like he’d just come out of the baby-blue cottage on the edge of the water. Hazel had noticed the cottage the first time she visited the carriage house. It was her closest neighbor.

“Or we can ask Jesse to help us put the door back on its hinges,” Frankie said, and stuck her head out the opening. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called Jesse’s name. He turned, looking confused, and Frankie motioned him over with her arm.

“Can you grab your toolbox? We need your help!” Frankie yelled, and Jesse turned back toward the little blue cottage.

“Does he live there?” Hazel asked, and Frankie confirmed her suspicions.

The meddling cowboy was Hazel’s neighbor.

Hazel nodded and sighed, looking from the broken door to the irritating neighbor. She wondered how many more challenges this summer would throw at her.