Summer Storms

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to put him out.”

  “I’m sure. Now when can you get together to go over the contract? He said he could write it up tonight.”

  “I don’t have any plans tomorrow, we could meet for lunch, I should probably call David and see if he is okay with this.”

  “Alright, you give him a call and see when he can meet and I will find out if Mark is available tomorrow. We’ll talk again later tonight.”

  “Thanks Emma, I really appreciate it.”

  “This was all Ron. He wants to watch out for you.”

  “Give him a big hug for me. Talk to you in a bit.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jeffrey stepped out of the lift and found Al pacing back and forth, his agitation apparent. The crew worked feverishly, their deadline for completion inching closer with each minute. Al froze when he met Jeffrey’s gaze. The team slowed as Jeffrey approached.

  “Mornin’, Al, how are things looking?” Jeffrey’s voice was amiable, yet firm.

  “We’re almost caught up, if we could have a couple more hours I’m sure we would be ready for the inspection.”

  Jeffrey pursed his lips and nodded. “You’re in luck, the inspection has been moved to next week.” Jeffrey saw relief flood Al’s face. “I still expect you to be up to speed by the end of today and moving forward until the inspector comes. We can’t afford any more set backs.”

  “Yes, sir,” Al said, waving the workers back to their tasks. Jeffrey lingered, scanning the floor, assessing the progress made. Satisfied with what he saw, he disappeared into the cage for the trip back to ground level.

  Back in the office, Jeffrey waded through paperwork, hoping to clear his desk for the weekend. By morning’s end, the pile of papers rested in a manageable stack and his email was down to single digits.

  “I’m heading to Tijuana Flats for lunch. Want me to pick up anything for you?” Jenny’s bright voice pulled Jeffrey away from the computer.

  “Is it lunch time already?” He glanced at his watch. “No, thanks. I think I’ll grab a hot dog from Eddie’s cart.”

  Jenny grimaced. “I don’t know how you can eat those things. Have you ever looked at how dirty that cart is? Are you sure it’s even legal for him to sell them?”

  “Sure, I mean it must be, the cops are always eating them too.” Jeffrey shrugged. “It’s fast and easy, what else do I need?”

  “A little nutrition now and then.”

  “And you think I’ll get that from Mexican food?”

  It was Jenny’s turn to shrug. “At least you would get some lettuce and tomatoes.”

  Jeffrey laughed. “Go, have fun.”

  They exited the trailer and were blinded momentarily by the intense sun. Jenny’s high heels clicked on the pavement. Jeffrey shook his head at the sound. He watched her daintily pick her way across the hard-packed dirt to the sidewalk. Jeffrey turned toward the site, noticed a group of workers gathered around Wally’s truck, and headed in their direction.

  “Hey guys. What’s happening?” Jeffrey called as he approached. A few of the men in the back of the crowd turned and waved him over. Jeffrey caught a glimpse of a young woman sitting on the tailgate of the truck. Bouncy, blond curls framed her face; deep blue eyes, the color of a perfect day, flashed as she smiled at him; long slender legs emerged from her burgundy skirt, ending in small feet clad in white canvas tennis shoes.

  “Oh great, glad you came out man,” Wally’s booming voice was happier than usual. “You gotta meet Lizzie.” He turned to the woman. “Lizzie, this is Jeffrey.”

  Lizzie slipped from the truck bed and extended her hand. “So you’re the boss man.” Her voice was confident yet flirty, her grip strong, her hand silky. “I hope I’m not causing any trouble. I went on a baking binge and needed to get rid of all these cookies.”

  Jeffrey noticed half a dozen large plastic bowls in the truck, already half-empty. “Do you have any raisin cookies?” he asked hopefully.

  “Just raisin or oatmeal raisin?”

  “Just raisin, I know it’s weird but my grandmother made the best raisin cookies.”

  “Mine too!” Lizzie exclaimed. She reached for one of the bowls and extended it to him. Jeffrey noticed this bowl was the emptiest of them all. He snagged one of the remaining cookies and took a bite. Memories came flooding back as he chewed.

  “That’s incredible. Just like my grandmother made.”

  “You must be a southern boy, ‘cause not one of these guys has ever had them before.”

  “Well, I don’t know if you can call Florida southern, but I do have family in Tennessee.”

  “Mine are in the Carolinas.” Lizzie’s gaze dropped to the ground, her voice trailing off.

  “So how did we become the lucky recipients of these cookies?”

  Lizzie looked up, her eyes meeting his, and Jeffrey felt his knees weaken. “I can’t say my motives are completely innocent.” She batted her eyelashes and brushed all the men with her gaze. “I just took on quite a remodeling project and I need some pointers, so I thought who better to ask than the experts.”

  “I don’t know if I would call any of these knuckleheads experts,” Jeffrey quipped. The men let loose a chorus of groans. “What are you remodeling, a bathroom, a kitchen?”

  “Yep.”

  “Which one?”

  “Both and then some.” Lizzie described the house and some of her ideas for fixing it up.

  “Sounds like a big job. I hope you have some help.” Jeffrey gave Lizzie a second look taking in her manicured fingers and slender arms. “No offense, but you don’t look like you have done much physical labor.”

  “None taken. You’re right, I’m not accustomed to it but I don’t plan on completing the job in a weekend. I know this is going to be a long process and I do have a couple of friends with building experience.”

  Jeffrey thought a minute. “You said the house is on Washington, east of Dexter’s?” Lizzie nodded. “Nice area. If you want I can stop by and take a look, see what advice I can give you on the most pressing needs.”

  “That would be great. I’ll be out there most of the day tomorrow; just cleaning the dirt out will take the entire weekend. Stop by anytime, it’s the house with a jungle all around it.”

  “Sounds good.” Jeffrey looked at his watch. “Oh, I gotta go, but you guys take an extra ten minutes today, you’ve worked hard. I have a meeting with the big boss in Bay Hill so I won’t be back. If you need anything give me a call.” He turned to Lizzie. “It was nice to meet you, thanks for the cookie.”

  “I’ll walk out with you. I should be getting to work myself.” The men started putting lids on the bowls. “Don’t worry about those, finish them off, I can pick them up next week.” The crew smiled and grabbed another handful of the sweet treats. Lizzie waved as she walked away.

  “You have some nice guys. They were afraid to take the cookies at first.” Lizzie kept in perfect step with Jeffrey as they moved toward the trailer.

  “They’re a little on the slack side sometimes, but overall a good group. I’m glad they didn’t send you away, that cookie brought back so many good memories.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  Jeffrey noticed the quiet way she spoke. They reached Jeffrey’s truck and paused.

  “You want a ride?”

  “Thanks, but I enjoy the walk.”

  “Where do you work?”

  “Hotel Lago”

  Jeffrey looked in the direction of Lake Eola. “Not exactly nearby. There are lots of closer places you could have taken your cookies, why did you choose us?”

  Lizzie looked over her shoulder toward the construction site. “I don’t know. I met a kid here last weekend. He was skateboarding and caught me staring at the building, he told me his dad worked here. He was so proud; he seemed to stand up straighter when he was telling about his dad.”

  “Did he tell you his dad’s name?”

  “No, just that he poured concrete. Something abo
ut the way he said it made me want to meet the man who could instill such pride in his child.”

  “Well, you did. I think Wally may have been your biggest fan in the bunch. The man who introduced you to me, that’s Wally. Must have been his son Tim you met. If you’re sure you don’t want a ride I really need to get going, don’t want to miss my tee time.”

  “Of course.” Lizzie shook his hand once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Jeffrey slid into his truck and started the ignition, watching Lizzie in his rearview mirror. When she was clear of the lot, he pulled out and headed for I-4.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lizzie slowed the car as she approached the house, surprised to see a trailer parked out front. The buzz of a lawnmower greeted her when she stepped out. Ron waved when the tractor turned toward her, a large straw hat shading his face. Lizzie pulled buckets, rags, and jugs of water from her trunk. On the porch, Emma greeted her, broom in hand.

  “Good mornin’,” Emma embraced Lizzie.

  “I can’t believe you guys are already here.”

  “Ron wanted to get the grass knocked out before it got too hot. Do you know what you’re going to do with this yard?”

  “Not really.” Lizzie looked around, impressed by the marked improvement with most of the grass cut. “It’s low on my priority list right now. I need to get the place livable in the next six weeks.”

  “There are some boys at the church who might be willing to come work on the landscaping. I’ll give them a call tonight.” Emma swept a pile of dirt off the porch as Lizzie unlocked the front door.

  “I don’t know why David has bothered with locking the door when most of the windows are broken.” Lizzie pushed the door open and set one of the buckets against it. She pulled out a bottle of glass cleaner and a rag and headed to the kitchen. “Might as well start with the windows that aren’t broken though, that should help lighten up the place.” Emma followed her inside.

  Two hours later, the remaining windows sparkled inside and out, shards of broken glass had been disposed of, and the kitchen cabinets wiped clean. Emma and Lizzie sank onto the front steps grateful for the light breeze. Ron loaded the mower back into the trailer and joined the women on the porch.

  “Taking a break so soon?” Ron teased.

  “It’s quite steamy in there. I wonder how much it would cost to convert this place to central air conditioning. Even if I stick a couple of window units in it’s going to be hard to keep it cool. Must be near 100 degrees in there right now.” Lizzie fanned herself with a rag. She surveyed the freshly cut yard and noticed Ron had also trimmed the many overgrown hedges and trees. “It looks so different without all the weeds.”

  Ron lowered himself onto the top step and leaned back on his elbows. “Not a bad start. What are you tackling next?”

  “The bathrooms. I want to scrub them down so they are usable as soon as the water is turned on, but I do dread cleaning those toilets. I don’t know if there is enough bleach in the world to kill all that mold.” Lizzie rose and stretched her arms over her head, extending her spine as far as she could. “I better get more supplies from the car.”

  In minutes, she was inside, setting two gallons of bleach on the floor beside the master bath toilet. She pulled a surgical mask up over her nose, tugged on thick, yellow, rubber gloves that reached to her elbows, and picked up the first bottle of bleach. With a flourish, she poured half of it into the toilet watching the dark bowl fill up. She swirled the mixture with a brush hoping the mold would magically fall away.

  “You might want to let it set awhile before trying to scrub,” Emma popped her head around the door, scrunching her nose at the smell.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” Lizzie dropped the brush and gathered a clean cloth. “Guess I’ll wash the bathtub while I wait.”

  “I’ll start the other bathroom. Holler if you need anything.” Emma disappeared in a flash. Lizzie sprayed cleaner on the bathtub. Years of soap scum and dirt seemed etched into the porcelain. As she scrubbed she smiled at the memory of her mom scolding her for not getting the bathroom clean enough as a teenager.

  “But Mom, I just cleaned it last week. Why do I have to do it again?” Lizzie had whined every Saturday.

  Her mom smiled and handed the cleaning supplies to her. “One day you’ll thank me for teaching you how to keep a clean house.”

  “Yes, Mom. I do want to thank you for that and so much more,” Lizzie whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek. Bit by bit the grime disappeared, returning to pure white glory. Lizzie exhaled loudly and leaned against the wall. A quick look at the toilet reminded her it wouldn’t clean itself.

  Jeffrey approached the house, keen eyes searching for its faults. A man appeared from the side yard, hands full of trimmed branches.

  “Afternoon,” Jeffrey called. “I’m looking for Lizzie.”

  “Sure, she’s inside, let me get her for you.” Ron dropped his load on the walkway and jumped onto the porch. Jeffrey waited on the sidewalk. Ron poked his head in the door, called for Lizzie, and returned to gather the debris, carrying it to a growing pile on the curb. “Garbage man won’t be happy when he sees this.”

  “Looks like you’ve been busy. I’m Jeffrey, by the way.” He extended his hand.

  “Ron. My wife Emma is inside helping our girl.”

  Lizzie appeared through the open door, dirt streaked her face; damp hair clung to her neck. He smiled at the contrast from the last time he’d seen her.

  “Thanks for coming. I see you’ve met Ron. He’s been my savior today, taming the jungle into something more presentable.”

  Jeffrey approached the house as Lizzie spoke. “You sure did choose a doozie for your first renovation project. I might have to hire you as a project manager when you get done.”

  Lizzie laughed. “I know, still not sure this was such a great idea, but I’m going to give it a shot. What do you think so far?”

  “At first glance I don’t see any glaring structural issues. Why don’t you give me the tour?”

  “My pleasure, follow me.”

  Jeffrey followed her up the stairs onto the porch, taking note of the rotting steps. They moved through the house, Lizzie standing by as Jeffrey studied every inch of the interior. Thirty minutes later, they emerged onto the porch again.

  “Do you mind if I take a walk around the outside?”

  “Not at all, want me to come with you?”

  “I’ll just be a minute.” Jeffrey ambled around the corner, chewing on his pen cap as he concentrated on the lines of the house. When he returned to the front porch, he found Lizzie, Emma, and Ron deep in conversation and hesitated to interrupt. He lingered in the yard watching Lizzie as she spoke, noticing how she used her hands to emphasize her points.

  Lizzie stood when Jeffrey moved closer. “So what do you think? Can we fix her up?”

  “You’re fortunate this house was built of concrete block. If it had been wood, you’d probably be dealing with a lot of rot. When you repair the porch, I would tear out this half wall along the front and put up a rail instead. You already know about the flooring that needs to be replaced inside. I don’t know about the roof, I’ll need to come back with a ladder to get a better look. Most likely it will need to be re-shingled fairly soon, though. Do you know when this place was last inhabited?”

  “The realtor wasn’t sure, but it has been several years.”

  “You may ask the neighbors, see if anyone remembers. I can come over again tomorrow if you want.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you.”

  “No bother, I don’t have any plans.”

  “That would be great. I’ll be in church until about twelve, so I can be here by one. Feel free to stop by anytime. We were just planning to get some lunch, would you like to join us?”

  Jeffrey noticed her gaze drop as she made the invitation. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. “Thanks, but I’m meeting Wally and his son in a little bit. Maybe anot
her time.”

  “Okay, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  Jeffrey thought he heard a bit of disappointment in her voice. “Yeah, tomorrow. You guys have a good time.”

  Emma and Ron stood and pulled the front door closed. “Are we walking or driving?” Emma asked.

  Lizzie gave them a broad smile. “If you are up to it why don’t we walk? I need to get into the habit if I’m going to be living here.” A warm wind brushed their hot faces as they walked the four blocks to Wildside BBQ.

  “How do you know Jeffrey?” Emma asked.

  “We just met yesterday. He’s working on the Plaza construction. You know how I like to bake when I’m stressed out? I made eight dozen cookies and needed to get rid of them so I treated his crew.”

  “No wonder the boy was so accommodating; no man can resist your baking.” Ron patted his belly.

  “Are you sure it’s wise to be inviting strangers to your new home?” Emma’s concern was evident.

  “Of course I wouldn’t normally, but these aren’t exactly normal circumstances.” Lizzie paused, “Somehow we clicked when we met, almost like we knew each other before.”

  “Just be careful. He seems nice enough, but you never know these days.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Lizzie rolled her eyes before slinging an arm around Emma’s shoulder.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Michelle took a last look in the mirror, her eyes lingering on the small scar above her right eye. A little make up concealed it from the world, but she always knew it was there. She often caught herself rubbing it when she was nervous. She ran a finger over it now before flipping the light off. In the bedroom, she sat down to pull on a pair of chunky black boots, tucked her shirt into black jeans, and slung her guitar case over her shoulder.

  The Loaded Hog was sparsely populated when Michelle arrived. She pulled the guitar from its case and rested it on a stand, checking her watch surprised none of her bandmates were there yet. A clatter of cymbals crashing onto the concrete floor alerted her of Matt’s arrival.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Matt greeted her with his lopsided grin. His hair was disheveled as if he’d just popped out of bed. “I was taking a nap and my alarm didn’t go off.” He looked around the dim bar. “Where are Tina and Jonesy?”