Traces (29 page)

“Or cinnamon buns.” Paulette grinned, but worry weighted the corners of her mouth. She huffed a laugh. “Not funny, eh?”

“Let’s not give up on them,” Brock said. “Keep the faith.”

The door at the top of the stairs yanked open, blasting air into the stuffy room. Sean and Meg bolted through the opening, Sean turning and wrestling the door closed behind them. They hesitated for a second on the steps, long enough for Max to realize they were soaked through. He went to the far shelf and grabbed blankets, offering one to Meg and then to Sean. Meg nodded her thanks, but Sean shook off the offer. Max tossed the unwanted blanket back on the shelf.

“Thank goodness you made it here.” Dina rose to hug Meg. “We were worried sick about you both.”

“It’s awful.” Meg sank to the bench Dina had vacated, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. She shook her head, tears threatening. “The gazebo is gone, shattered into pieces and flung into the cemetery like kindling on a fire.”

“Not the gazebo.” Paulette gripped her knees with both hands. “Grandma used to hold tea parties there for me and Meredith when we were little. Remember, Mer?”

Max glanced at Meredith. She nodded, as though in a trance, her thoughts far away. He went back to slide his arm around her shoulders. The storm and her fear both provided the perfect excuse for him to indulge his desire to touch her. From the first time he’d been near this beautiful and intelligent woman, he’d been drawn to her, needing to experience her.

“Hopefully that’s all that is damaged,” Brock said. “From the sound of the wind, it’s not over yet.”

“The eye of the twister hasn’t arrived yet.” Meredith trembled, and he snuggled his arm around her. The roar of the wind increased until the sound hurt his ears.

“The radar shows it’s moving fast.” Sean leaned against the wall. “We should be clear soon. Then we can go inspect the extent of the damage.”

Meredith cleared her throat and pushed to an upright position. Max let his arm drop off her shoulders but maintained contact with her, encircling her waist instead.

“I’d like to say something.” Meredith paused, looking at each person in the room. “We never know when our time may come, and in case we’re about to find out when our times are, I want you all to know that—” Glass breaking upstairs made them all gasp and fall silent for a moment. “Despite what you may think of me, I love you all. Coming here has changed me in ways I’d never expected. And, as this tornado threatens to do what I had intended when I arrived, I’ve realized I was wrong.”

Max waited for the other shoe to fall. What did she plan to do? He involuntarily tightened his arm around her until she shot him a questioning look. Forcing his embrace to relax, he winked at her.

“So you’re not going to demolish it?” Paulette asked.

More glass crashed overhead. Everyone stared at the ceiling for a long moment, and then back at each other.

“No, I’ll do what Grandma O’Connell wanted and renovate Twin Oaks.”

Max squeezed her waist. He was overjoyed she’d finally come to her senses and recognized the value of restoring the place and living here. “You won’t regret your decision.”

“As for you, Max…” Meredith turned to peer at him, angling her body within his embrace. “You’ve been a thorn in my side the entire time I’ve been here.”

He stiffened. What? He tightened his lips, resisting jumping to conclusions.

“You broke my door, which you still owe me a repair on. But of course, who knows what else will need fixing?” She smiled. “But we’re even, at least as far as owing each other, since I owe you a dinner, I believe.”

“Assuming we all manage to survive, you’re on.” Max brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, his index finger sliding down to brush her cheekbone. She watched him with a new openness in her startling eyes, as though she’d awakened from a nightmare. Perhaps in one sense she had, having realized the value of her inheritance, her heritage, and most of all her family. Max couldn’t help himself. He kissed her. The touch of her lips to his ignited the ever-present simmer of longing in his heart and soul when near her.

Meredith smiled at Max. “I’d like that.”

“Knock it off, you two.” Brock resumed his pacing. “The wind is letting up.”

Max kissed her again, deeper this time, despite the groans from their audience. “Sounds like a plan.”

* * * *

The wind continued to roar above their heads. Meredith snuggled against Max’s side, a newly discovered sense of well-being and peace filling her. The people around her constituted her family, both by blood and by choice. With each crash of glass she’d realized demolition of Twin Oaks would never happen at her hands. This place, so replete with traces of her ancestors, her heritage, even her childhood, provided the continuum between then and now. Her marriage to Willy had been idyllic, and she’d never forget her first true love. Yet he would not want her to stop living, to stop dreaming, and most important, he’d never want her to stop creating.

Renovating the house spoke to her in a way she hadn’t heard in years. The whisper of possibilities for what she could create, the finishes to apply, the furniture to locate to reflect the beauty and opulence of days gone by.

More glass breaking interrupted her thoughts. She glared at the closed door, willing the storm to abate so she could assess the damage and begin to make her dreams into actions.

“I hope there’s something left when all this is over,” Paulette said.

“There will be.” Meredith stood and stretched. “What’s the radar showing?”

Brock checked his phone display. “Storm track is showing we should be clear in another minute.”

“Must we wait?” Sean tugged at his open collar. “Such a small room for all of us.”

Meg pulled him closer and kissed his cheek. “Not much longer, dear. You’ll survive, I promise.”

Meredith grinned at the elderly couple. “How long have you two been married?”

“Thirty-two years this summer.” Meg took Sean’s hand and covered it with both of hers.

How satisfying to have that much time together. Meredith glanced at Max. What would their future hold? Did they even have one? More important, was she ready to find out?

Griz dashed up the steps. Her meow sounded loud in the small, crowded space.

The wind quieted, and Meredith moved to the bottom of the steps. “I’m going up.”

“Is it safe?” Paulette asked.

Meredith smiled in reply to the concern in Paulette’s eyes. “Safe enough.”

“Right behind you.” Max followed her up the stairs, and together they opened the door.

“Careful, there’s glass everywhere.” Rain blew through the window over the kitchen sink as Meredith picked her way into the room. Glass crunched under her shoes. Max emerged into the room from behind her, and they both paused to take in the amount of destruction.

Max pushed past Meredith and lifted a six-foot limb from the floor. He dragged it to the open doorway, the broken door now lying half-in and half-out of the kitchen. Sean and Meg led Paulette, Dina, and Brock out of the cellar to stand and gape at the damage. The rain had soaked everything, and the wind had hurled tree limbs and debris from outside through the shattered window and door. The little tiled table had been reduced to so much kindling and porcelain pieces scattered across the floor.

“Wow.” Paulette hugged her waist. “What a mess.”

“At least we’re all safe. I want to see what else happened.” Meredith picked her way across the floor and through the swinging door to the hallway. At the far end, the front doors stood wide open, the rain and wind wreaking havoc on the hardwood floors. More limbs and leaves lay blasted across the space, scratches glaring in the floorboards. One front window lay in shards on the floor, the apparent victim of an eight-foot tree limb.

“The sewing room is intact.” Max shook his head. “It’s bad in here but not irreparable.”

“It’s pretty minor, thankfully.” She closed the front doors, relieved the ancient wood panels remained unharmed when they blew open. Finding solid wood doors to replace them would have been difficult. She turned to Max. “I spotted some plastic in the cellar we can use to cover the kitchen window.”

“That’ll work, at least temporarily.”

When they returned to the kitchen, Sean already had the door propped back in place. Meg had started sweeping up the glass. Brock hefted the last of the large limbs outside, while Dina and Paulette gathered the smaller pieces and added them to the growing pile. Before long, the broken windows in the kitchen and the foyer both boasted an expanse of blue tarp held in place with gray duct tape. The swirling leaves settled onto the floor as the wind inside stopped.

Meredith finished sweeping up the glass from the front hall, dumping the shards into the trash can. The gouges on the floor would be harder to clear away. She knelt down to inspect the damage. Rocking back onto her heels, she considered leaving the scarred floor as it was; a reminder to her that not all scars need to be obliterated in order for the past to not impede the future.
Sometimes our scars help show the strength we’ve developed through the adversity in our lives.

“The rain’s stopped.” Max sank to a squatting position beside her, bringing to mind the other time, in the sewing parlor, when they’d shared their first kiss. “Did you want to check out the exterior damage now?”

She knelt in front of him, placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. “Yes, since the interior is secured against further damage.”

They walked together through the door and surveyed the front of the property. Several large trees stood snapped midway up their trunks, leaving jagged fragments pointed to the heavens. The path of the tornado scored a barren swath of land leading up to the side of the house, though thankfully skirting the building. Following the trail of desolation, Meredith and Max strolled around the house.

The beautiful white gazebo peppered the backyard and family cemetery with pieces of wood and metal. Tears smarted Meredith’s eyes. The gazebo had held as many memories as any other part of the plantation. Most recently of sisters sharing secrets among the fairy lights. But those memories, both old and new, were all the more cherished because of their uniqueness.

“I’m sorry, Meredith.”

She glanced at his sad eyes. “It’s okay. I’ll rebuild it.” Meredith tread onto the stone foundation. She lifted her face to gaze up to where the ceiling and its mass of tiny white lights obscured the sun shining on the desolation. “Complete with fairy lights.”

Max stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned her head against his chest and sighed. She never thought she’d feel contentment with another man, yet here she stood among the debris of the gazebo with Max holding her, comforting her. Amid devastation she found comfort. A tear trickled down her cheek as she surveyed the snapped and flung trees, the battered wrought-iron fence, and the gazebo’s white boards strewn across the yard like so many matchsticks. Leaves rustled behind her, but she didn’t move when Max shifted his weight. His solid support meant more to her than she had ever hoped to experience again.

“It could’ve been worse.” Paulette strolled up to stand with them. “At least no one was hurt.”

Meredith exhaled, knowing she spoke the truth. The others trailed outside to witness the damage. She pushed away from Max’s embrace, the rush of cool air on her back making her shiver. Dragging in a deep breath, she detected wet earth mixed with the aroma of early spring flowers but no whiff of honeysuckle. She smiled, knowing Grace finally did rest in peace.

“Well, I’m so glad we had this chance to spend time with you, a ghost, and a tornado.” Brock quirked an eyebrow. “So worthwhile making this trip to be with my girls.”

Meredith chuckled, a lopsided grin forming. “Glad we could entertain, Dad.”

Dina smacked Brock’s arm. “Be serious, will ya?”

“What?” Brock assumed an offended look, though his grin belied his attempt.

Sean laughed, clasping Meg’s hand. “I’ll grab the wheelbarrow and start cleaning this mess up while we still have daylight.”

“I’ll grab my gloves and start on the boards.” Meg hurried away with him, hand in hand, toward the shed.

“So, Paulette, do you still want to live here?” Meredith smiled at her sister.

“Of course.” Paulette crossed her arms and gazed at Meredith. “Why?

“We’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Paulette hugged Meredith. “I’m in, don’t worry.”

Meredith turned to Max and angled her head, assessing his serious expression. She squeezed his hand. “What about you, lawyer dude? Are you in too?”

* * * *

The sun lowered behind the plantation house, casting long shadows across the yard. Meredith cradled a glass of wine, its fruity tones intoxicating after the hard work everyone had put in clearing debris all afternoon. Her folks had already taken off for home, worried about any possible damage at their place from the rampant storms. Paulette had pleaded a headache and taken a cup of tomato soup and crackers to her room to recuperate. Meg and Sean had retreated to their home for the evening as well. That left Meredith and Max on the porch, alone.

Max insisted she relax and reconnoiter her thoughts, her plans. He settled onto the two-person swing at the corner of the wraparound porch, sipping some of her dad’s whiskey on the rocks. His gaze weighed upon her, though she pretended not to notice he watched her actions. She scanned the yard succumbing to the deepening shadows. Stars twinkled in the distance, innumerable and mysterious.

He was right. She did need to determine her next steps. What should she do with the family plantation? Ten bedrooms seemed an awful lot of wasted space if they always sat empty. Of course, Paulette and Meredith would each occupy one, and Paulette’s baby would occupy another. What about the other seven? She rubbed her forehead with her thumb and index finger, massaging the tightness lodged above her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Max’s deep chocolate voice reached her, his concern apparent.

“Hmm. I’ve been worse.” She glanced at him, and then back to where the gazebo once stood. “Thanks for all you’ve done for me, Max.”