Second Chances (17 page)

“Hi, Brandon. Actually, I’m having fun. I like gardening. You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. What would clients think if they saw me with dirt under my nails?”

“They might think you’re a real man instead of a coddled city boy,” Erik snarled in Brandon’s direction.

“Right… that’s a good comment coming from the handyman who has to barter services for his room because he can’t afford to pay rent.”

Before Abby even realized what happened, a blur whizzed by her, and Erik was on top of Brandon, punching him in the face.

“Erik, stop! What are you doing? Somebody help me, please!” she yelled toward the house.

Erik and Brandon, equally matched, rolled through the yard, throwing wild punches that occasionally connected. Charles and Adam ran outside to see what the commotion was. Betsy took up the rear with the garden hose in hand. She twisted the brass nozzle to the strongest stream and let both men have it with ice-cold water. “You want to fight like dogs, you’re going to get hosed down like dogs,” she yelled.

They sputtered and swore at each other as Abby squeezed her body between them, trying to separate the two. “Knock it off, for Pete’s sake. What in the world is wrong with you, Erik?”

“Now I’m to blame? That jerk has been taunting me for the last week, and I haven’t said a word. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to kick his teeth in, Abby?”

“Yeah, come on, Neanderthal. Show me what you’ve got.” Brandon brushed the back of his hand across his bloody nose.

“Stop it, both of you!”

“You’re paying for this suit, asshole, and I’m filing battery charges against you. Did you forget I’m an attorney?”

“That’s pretty hard to forget since you remind us of it daily, you jerk. You know what it means when people have to constantly build up their own ego, don’t you?”

Betsy whispered into Adam’s ear, “What does it mean?”

“It’s a sign of insecurity. He probably has a small package.” Adam grinned at Betsy’s wide-eyed expression.

“Both of you go your separate ways, please. I don’t want to talk to either of you right now.” Abby sat on the bench with her face in her hands and cried.

Betsy scooted in next to her after Brandon marched into the house, and Erik grabbed the posthole digger, pounding it into the dirt. Betsy put her arm around Abby’s shoulder and held her close.

“Betsy, this means one of them is going to have to move out. I can’t afford to have trouble between them. The neighbors probably heard the commotion. I don’t even have permits to run a boardinghouse. Somebody has to go before I end up paying fines.”

Silence filled the air at dinnertime. Abby spoke up since nobody else was talking. She had already told Melanie, Lisa, and Lucille what happened between Brandon and Erik so the women wouldn’t be surprised to hear what she was going to say. “One of you has to go. I’m trying to run a peaceful household and give the image of serenity and friendship between all my tenants, and for some reason, you two can’t seem to get over yourselves. I thought everyone living here would behave like adults, but I was wrong. It’s between the two of you to decide, and I’ll be expecting an answer at breakfast.”

“You don’t have to wait that long. I’m leaving tonight,” Erik said, storming out of the dining room.

“Cool… that takes care of our problems. Melanie, would you please pass the pork chops?” Brandon said.

Abby got up and prepared two plates of food. “Betsy, please bring a bottle of wine to my room and two glasses. My hands are kind of full.” Abby walked out of the dining room, carrying a plate in each hand.

“Humph… that didn’t go the way I thought it would.” Brandon smirked as he sawed through his pork chop.

“Yeah, if you didn’t act like such an ass, none of this would be happening right now,” Melanie said, scowling at him.

“What do you know? You weren’t even here.”

“Best friends confide in each other, Brandon. Do you know what a best friend is?”

Erik heard footsteps pass by his room. He listened to each step as Abby took the stairs to her room above him.
Great. Now I made her lose her appetite.
He heard another set of footsteps pass by, going to the third floor, and then two sets coming back down. A knock sounded on his door. The other footsteps got fainter as the sound faded down the hallway.

“Erik, may I come in?”

“I’m not in the mood for company, Abby, and I have to pack.”

“I’m coming in anyway so please don’t be naked.” She opened the door and peeked her head in. “Damn it, I could only hope.”

He laughed. “Come in,” he said with a sigh as he plopped down on the edge of his bed.

“I have a better idea. Come with me.” She took his hand and led him to the third floor.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to enjoy dinner privately, without any drama or Brandon’s smart mouth. I know he does everything he can to insult you, and frankly, I’m tired of listening to him. You and I are going to have some alone time where it’s quiet and peaceful.”

“I’ve never been in your room. Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. You aren’t the boogeyman.” She opened the door to her enormous bedroom, the room that used to be Charlotte’s master suite. Two plates and a bottle of red wine were sitting on the large table overlooking White Point Garden and the Ashley River.

Erik looked from side to side, appearing to be in awe of the immense room. A red brick fireplace stood majestically in the center of the far west wall. The marble mantel above it held treasured family photos and mementos. To his left was a door leading to a bathroom the size of his entire room downstairs. To his right was a walk-in closet just as big. Straight ahead, centered in the room was a king-sized bed.

She laughed at his expression. “Do you want to eat before our food gets cold? You can browse later.”

“Oh… okay. This room is just really intense. I guess this is part of the perks of being the house steward, right?”

“Come over here and sit. The view is beautiful.”

He pulled a chair out for Abby, and she sat. He faced her from across the table and poured wine for both of them. “I feel like I’m in a fancy restaurant.”

She smiled at him. “Erik, please don’t go, I want you to stay. I was upset earlier, but I don’t want drama in the house either. The last thing I need is the neighbors complaining to the owners about fighting and yelling going on here. It’s so out of the norm for this street. People are private and genteel here. I can’t afford the backlash.”

“I understand, and I’m really not going out of my way to get under Brandon’s skin. He’s just so damn arrogant, it’s hard not to beat the crap out of him.”

Abby laughed. “I know what you mean, but if you recall, you
did
beat the crap out of him. You know, he might press charges against you.”

“Whatever… it’s worth it to take his ego down a few notches.”

They ate dinner and laughed, just two people enjoying each other. The rest of the world was downstairs, two stories below, and right then, neither of them cared.

Abby reached for the bottle and filled each wine glass. “Follow me. I want to show you something.” She handed the glasses to Erik and opened a door that led to another staircase. “You’ll like this,” she said, turning back to see his expression.

At the top of the stairs, she opened the final door. They were on the rooftop of the mansion, the widow’s walk, outdoors and under the stars.

“Holy cow… this is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? I come up here sometimes when I just want to reflect. It shows me how insignificant we really are compared to the expanse out there. The stars above us and the ocean straight ahead put me in my place every time I sit up here. Come over here.”

Abby led Erik to the lounge chairs. She sat on one and motioned for Erik to sit on the other. A small glass topped wrought-iron table was nestled between them. He placed the wine glasses on the table and looked at the ocean.

“You can see the lights at Fort Sumter from here.”

“You sure can. Isn’t it beautiful and peaceful? I try to convince myself that if I look just a little bit harder, I’ll see St. Thomas.”

“Well, you’d have to have pretty good vision for that. Has anyone else ever been up here with you?”

“Only Mel and Betsy. This place is too special to share with just anybody.”

“I feel privileged. Thank you for bringing me up here. It really means a lot.”

Erik got up from the lounge chair and reached for her hand. It felt as soft as silk. She stood face-to-face with him, just inches apart. He leaned in and kissed her. At first it was a gentle brush across her lips, then more, with a passion that had been building for a month. Her surprise turned into eagerness. Erik held her face in his hands, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her neck, and her lips once more. He inhaled the scent of her hair. It was as sweet as southern jasmine. Abby moaned with a deep longing to be loved, but not by anyone, only Erik Christiansen, the man who took her breath away.

Back in her room, on that king-sized bed, with soft music playing and candles creating a warm ambience, they made love with a passion that couldn’t be denied. Abby was in a different world. The people downstairs and the problems stirred up that afternoon no longer mattered. She was in the moment, and the moment was too important to take lightly. Even though she knew better, even though she was legally married to Remy, and even though her life was more than complicated, she was falling hard, and falling in love with her wonderful Scandinavian handyman.

“You’ll stay, right?” she asked, snuggling close to his warm body.

“I’ll stay, but what about Brandon? It’s hard to deal with him. If he’d just mind his own business instead of throwing out the constant jabs, I could ignore him and keep my distance.”

“I’ll talk to him and ask him to lay off the insults. All I want is peace in this house.”

“Really, that’s all you want?” he asked as he kissed her forehead.

“Not exactly,” she said. “Come closer, and I’ll give you a hint.”

Abby woke up at seven o’clock. The open window allowed a fresh summer breeze to waft through the room. Distant gulls cried forlornly over the open water beyond the park. Erik lay next to her in bed with the blankets pulled up to his chin, sound asleep. She smiled at him and studied his perfectly symmetrical face.
I wonder if this could be the real thing, real trusting love that could last forever
. She rose quietly and put on the long satin robe whose hemline skimmed the glossy wooden floor. She prepared two cups of coffee in the small coffeemaker on the dresser. She heard Erik stir and turned around to see the gorgeous man smiling at her.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

She carried the two cups of coffee to bed and climbed in. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

“Not to make you feel bad, Miss Taylor, but I do believe your mattress is of far higher quality than my own.” He grinned and gave her a lingering kiss.

“Sorry… maybe you should spend a little more time in mine, for your back’s sake, you know?”

“You mean to avoid a visit to the doctor and filing a worker’s compensation claim?”

“Yeah… that’s what I meant,” she said, winking at him.

“So, we’re going to have to face some bulging eyes when we go downstairs. Are you prepared for a snarky comment from Brandon?”

“He isn’t running this house, I am, and I can do whatever I want. The only thing anyone knows for sure is that we had dinner upstairs together, nothing more.”

“Okay, babe, I’m leaving it up to you. I’m going to my room to shower, but I’ll see you at breakfast.” He gave her a soft kiss, moaned, and dressed, taking the back stairs to his own room.

Abby showered and dressed for the day. She clasped her watch and checked the time: 7:55 a.m.
Okay, here we go.
She carried the plates from last night into the kitchen. Luckily, everyone was already in the dining room, including Erik.

A subtle kick under the table from Melanie told Abby in no uncertain terms that she wanted to hear everything later when there was an opportunity. Abby smiled discreetly and filled her plate with a scoop of the steaming egg-and-potato breakfast casserole. “Where’s Brandon?” she asked after noticing his chair was empty.

Betsy spoke up. “He grabbed a cup of coffee for the road when I was making breakfast. He said he had a new case with an insurance company a half hour away and had to get an early start.”

Thank God. No drama this morning. We can all enjoy breakfast in peace.
“Oh, okay. Great breakfast casserole, Betsy. It’s delicious.”

Abby could have set her watch according to the time the mailman arrived every day. At 12:05 p.m., he dropped the letters into the slot of the built-in mailbox on the pillar attached to the front gate. With her keys in hand, Abby walked down the sidewalk, twisted the key in the keyhole, and opened the box from the back side of the pillar. She carried the four envelopes into the house, glancing at each one as she walked. The one that caught her attention had a return address from the State of South Carolina.
What the heck is this
? She headed directly into the library, closed the pocket doors behind her, and sat down at the mahogany desk. Today was the day she paid the monthly bills anyway, but she needed to see what was in that envelope first. She opened it apprehensively, knowing that once she saw the contents, she’d have to address the issue.

“Oh no… how can the property tax be due in July?” She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on as she read through the document. The letter acknowledged that she, Abby Melrose Bellavance, was the legal owner of the Melrose house on South Battery. Since the home had been deeded to her, she was currently the party responsible for paying the property tax. In the past, the tax had been paid in January and July, so the state took it upon themselves to continue with the same process. The payment address was provided, along with a phone number for any questions she had. She looked at the second page, afraid to see the total due. “Oh my God, how in the world am I going to pay this?” The numbers shocked her, making her head spin with worry. For half the year, a bill for twelve thousand seven hundred forty-six dollars was enclosed, due in three weeks. She took a deep breath and tried to think of a way to pay the enormous bill.
Okay, I don’t have much cash left, and now I certainly can’t afford to have Brandon move out. Everyone will have to get along or at least fight quietly.