SWNOVELS Chance: Chapter 22
“How’s it looking?”
Rory stood inside the kitchen of the Dawg with Theo and George, Diego’s friend who was in the water restoration business. George had his right elbow propped in his left hand, gripping his chin with two fingers as he frowned and walked around the room.
“Down here is fine. It’s the ceiling above our heads, specifically the wood. It’s drying out. Not as quickly as I’d hoped, but we’ll bring in more fans. Should be dry in a day or two. You will have to call a mold remediation specialist, though.”
Rory’s belly sunk. The building was old, and it always had a whiff of mustiness in lesser used spaces. But this smell was stronger. It was probably just the age, and the fact the wood had gotten wet, but even the word mold had her seeing dollar signs.
“Will we need to replace the wood floors upstairs?” Theo asked. He looked worried. Not that they wouldn’t do what they had to do, but the building was historic and finding the same kind of hand-scraped hardwoods would either be impossible or crazy expensive.
“I didn’t see any warping. The dehumidifiers are helping and the wood is resilient. I’m worried your problem is between the floor upstairs and the tin on the ceiling down here. Might need to pull some panels down and have a look.”
“So we can’t open tomorrow like we thought,” Theo said, frowning at her.
“Maybe we can,” she replied. “Need to call the mold person and get it looked at ASAP. It might be nothing other than the age of the building.”
While Theo and George talked, Rory went up to her office to reconcile invoices and make sure there were no outstanding bills that needed paying immediately. The papers blurred as she stared at them and she grabbed a tissue to swipe away the tears. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did she start to tear up at the drop of a hat these days?
Was this what being pregnant was going to do to her? Make her weepy and queasy and sentimental and so many other things she couldn’t quite keep track of them all?
Because it was exhausting. How did women do it? How did Tammy pop out two kids, get pregnant a third time, and keep on doing her Junior League and fancy picnic shit?
Rory clamped down on that thought. She did not want to think of Tammy as her example of a pregnant woman because that was just going to make her feel even more inadequate.
Theo came upstairs and trudged into her office. He looked morose. “Mold specialist will be here later this afternoon.”
“Nothing from the police yet?”
“Nothing but a call to say they had nothing. No witnesses who saw anything out of the ordinary.”
Rory leaned back in her chair. “Of all the days for Colleen not to be nosy.”
“She was probably sleeping off a seance. Or an evening trying to contact the aliens.” He nodded at her desk. “We okay?”
“For now. We’ve got cash in reserve and we can probably handle a month of expenses without income, but we sure couldn’t face any other disasters or we’d have to get another loan to pay our suppliers. We’d be fresh out of cash at that point.”
Theo looked tired. “Then we need to pray there’s no mold and we can open again soon. I’m sorry, Rory. This isn’t what you need right now.”
“That’s life. Disasters happen. They’ll happen whether I’m pregnant or not.”
“I know, but I don’t have to like it. You do so much to keep this place running while I get caught up in what kind of food I can serve. I feel guilty sometimes.”
“Seriously? It’s the food that keeps them coming back. I think it’s fantastic you experiment and make things people want more of. If all we did was get frozen premade shit from the grocery service and drop it into a deep fryer, we’d be no different than the other bars that are indistinguishable from each other. Why drive all the way to Sutton’s Creek when you can just drop into your local bar and get wings and fries and jalapeño poppers there?”
Theo smiled at her and she smiled back. “Thanks, Ror. Now enough about this shit. How are you feeling? I worry about you even though you told me not to.”
She snorted. “I knew you wouldn’t stop worrying. I just don’t want to constantly hear it. I feel great, mostly. More tired than usual, but Emma Grace says that’s normal. The nausea is mostly under control with meds. My glucose dips and soars a bit unpredictably, but I’m keeping a very close eye on it. Chance fixes breakfast and bugs me about my numbers, so you can be pleased someone is acting like a mother hen in your place.”
“I like him, Ror. I mean I’m pissed he knocked you up, but I like him.”
Rory bristled. “Seriously, Theo? It takes two and this isn’t 1950.”
“I know.” He frowned. “But I’m your big brother and I sometimes feel like I do a shit job of taking care of you. Meanwhile you make sure this place is going great so I can do what I love. When do you get to do what you love?”
She blinked. “I am doing what I love. Being an entrepreneur, running a business, living at the farm and waking up every day in the house we grew up in. I love all of it.” She put a hand over her abdomen. “And now I’m gonna be a mom, and I honestly thought my chance was gone. I’m gonna raise this kid to love the Harper Farm and the Dawg as much as I do.”
“Chance says he’s gonna be there for you and the kid. Do you believe him?”
Her stomach tightened a fraction. “I believe he means it right now. But after this kid is born and he realizes what a commitment it is for the long haul? Not so sure he’ll stick around.”
Theo shook his head. “I understand why you feel that way. I know you’re protecting yourself.”
“I have no choice, Theo. If I let him in and he abandons us like Mark did when he ran off with Tammy, it’ll be more than just my heart that’s broken.”
“I know, honey. But don’t you think if everybody felt that way, nobody’d ever choose to be a family? Families are messy and emotional, and they don’t always work out, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”
Rory’s heart was ice. “I love you, Theo, but you need to hush up. You’re no better than I am. We both lost our parents, and you’ve let that color your whole life as much as I have. More. At least I almost got married. You’ve never had a relationship last long enough for an engagement. So maybe take a hard look at your own house of cards before criticizing mine, okay?”
He blew out a breath. “Okay, Pixie. I won’t say it again. But I love you and I want you to be happy.”
“No fair calling me Gramps and Granny’s nickname for me,” she said, her throat tight. “And I want you to be happy, too. Now before we start sobbing or something, I’m going over to Kiss My Grits and getting a latte. You want anything?”
“I can get it. You stay here,” Theo said, standing.
“Thanks but I’m going. I want to walk over there, get some air. It’s a pretty day out. You know we’re gonna have stifling heat soon as Memorial Day hits so I want to enjoy it now before my clothes stick to me and I’m cussing because Clyde’s AC is on the fritz again.”
“You really gotta get something besides Clyde if you’re going to put your child in it. That thing is a tank, but it doesn’t have ABS or airbags.”
“You sound like Chance,” she said as they walked down the hall together.
“Good. He’s a sensible man then.”
“Last chance, Theo. You want a coffee or not before I walk out this door?”
“Yeah, bring me an Americano. Large.”
“Banana bread?”
He put a hand over his belly. “I shouldn’t. But I will.”
Rory was still laughing as she went out the front door of the Dawg and walked down the block. The trees had all leafed out, and hanging baskets planted with petunias and geraniums hung from poles stationed along the sidewalk. In the center of the town square, Jacob Sutton’s statue stood sentinel over the town. Two little girls with blond pig tails screamed and chased each other while their mom sat on a bench and watched, rocking a baby in a carrier as she did so.
Rory observed the little family as she walked. She’d made peace with the fact she probably wasn’t going to get married or have kids after Mark, but now she was pregnant. She pictured herself with a toddler, enjoying the park. And though she didn’t want to, she pictured Chance there with her, laughing as their child did something utterly cute and adorable.
There were other people in the park, sitting on benches, taking pictures. One couple was having a picnic lunch beneath a shade tree. Would Chance want to picnic with her and their child? Rory imagined them there, her big strong man holding a little baby while Rory dished out chicken salad onto plates.
Nother man. Chance. Chance Hughes, annoyingly handsome Ole Miss fan who’d gotten her pregnant after two weeks of hot, dirty, creative sex. The baby daddy.
Yes, that’s how she would think of him. The Baby Daddy.
Rory slowed as she walked past Little Blooms, a store with baby clothes and accessories. There was a white crib in the window decked out with a blue blanket and a pillow with little sailboats embroidered on them.
She wanted to go in, but she wasn’t comfortable doing it yet.
Rory rolled her eyes. Like anybody would see Aurora Harper going into Little Blooms and assume she was pregnant. No, they’d assume she was shopping for a gift or stopping to chat with Miriam McClinton, the proprietor. Miriam was a few years younger than she was, but Miriam had grown up in Sutton’s Creek and her brother was a grade behind Rory and Emma Grace. No reason why Rory wouldn’t stop for a chat.
But she didn’t. She kept on walking until she reached Kiss My Grits. She was just about to put her hand on the door when it flew open. She was so startled she jumped back a step.
A man looked at her in annoyance, then sneered when recognition dawned. “Hello, Rory. Get your driveway sorted?”
Rory’s heart knocked her ribcage. “Sure did. How about you? Figure out how to drive yet, RJ?”
The man was tall and muscled in a way that said he worked out regularly. If he wasn’t an asshole, he’d fit right in with the One Shot Tactical men. Maybe.
“Nothing wrong with my driving, little girl.”
Rory clenched a fist at her side. Nothing in this world pissed her off so much as men patronizing her. Dismissing her for her gender, her size, her love of simplicity rather than the latest fashions and society. She wanted to haul off and punch him, and probably would have if not for the voice ringing alarm bells in her head. She was pregnant. She couldn’t go getting into brawls with meathead enforcers for the property development company.
“Oh, well, if you say so,” she said, seething inside even as she pasted on a smile. “I’ll be sending a bill to D&B Properties for the landscaper I had to hire to clean everything up and fix the driveway.”
“You do that, doll.”
He brushed past her and she had to step aside at the last minute so he didn’t plow her down. “Have a nice day, asshole,” she called out as he walked away.
His only answer was a middle finger held over his head. Rory growled as she turned and stomped into the café. There was a line so she got in it and glared at the cases with the muffins, breads, scones, and cakes. She was so busy staring at the display and calming herself down that she didn’t notice the man who stopped beside her until he spoke.
“How you doin’, Ms Harper?”
Rory’s gaze snapped to Ronnie Davis’s face. He wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat today. Instead, he had on a Houston Texans ball cap. His bushy mustache still pissed her off, and the look in his eyes didn’t help. Oh, he looked at her politely, even tipped his cap when her gaze met his, but that wasn’t what his eyes said. They said she was a bug needing squashed.
“I’m just dandy, Mr. Davis. How about you? Enjoying Wendy’s baked goods and coffee?”
“Yes, ma’am. She makes a mighty fine blueberry muffin. Coffee’s good too.”
On that they agreed. “Sure is. Well, you have a nice day now, you hear?”
Dear God, was she a caricature of a Southern woman or what? If only she had some pearls to press her hand against while batting her eyelashes.
“Planning on it, Miss Harper. You think anymore about my offer?”
“No, sir. Not even a bit.”
She smiled big. His eyes narrowed.
“I’m disappointed to hear it, young lady. It’s a fair offer. Your neighbors seem mighty interested, I have to say.”
“Do they? Well, shucks, I guess I’ll just have to be bordered on two sides by subdivisions, won’t I?”
“Guess so. Unless you see reason and accept my offer. I’m prepared to increase it if that helps.”
Her heart thumped. She thought of the Dawg and the potential mold issue, how long they could be shut down without cash coming in. She thought of her baby and the long future that stretched ahead. There would be expenses, and there would be college. A car. Clothes and cell phones and all the other things a kid needed to keep up with their peers.
And then there was the thought she didn’t often let creep into her brain, but which made her tremble when she did. If something happened to her—her disease, an accident, whatever—how would she provide for her child’s future?
She could sell everything but a couple of acres, keep her house and the barns. Theo could have his garden and the chickens would still be there. And why not? She wasn’t planning to start farming. She wasn’t planting crops, or raising cattle, or anything else that would take her away from the Dawg.
But as soon as the thought started to take root, she cut it out of her head. She didn’t need to farm. She didn’t need to do anything except let Carl Hoffman, or some other farmer, harvest the hay. She just needed to enjoy the beauty of her land and pass it on to the next generation for whatever they decided to do with it.
“Not interested, Mr. Davis. But thank you anyway.”
“Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “Ahh, so good. Nice talking to you, Ms Harper.”
“You too.” She definitely didn’t mean it.
He took a step, then turned back to her. “Just one last thing, Ms Harper. I’m prepared to offer more right now, but I won’t be so generous if you find that you have to sell.”
Her stomach bottomed out. “And why would I have to?”
He shrugged. “Things happen. Circumstances change. Financial obligations erode equity and create opportunity for those who have money. If you decided to sell because you need the capital to sink into your bar, for example, then I might see that as an opportunity to offer you less money because you need it rather than want it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she grated. “And Mr. Davis?”
“Yes?”
“You tell that asshole driver of yours that he’s a rude piece of shit.”
Davis laughed. “You mean Ronnie Junior? He gets that from his mama’s side of the family, I’m afraid. But I’ll pass the message. Think about what I said, Ms Harper. The clock is ticking and the price can go down just as easily as up.”