A Trusting Heart (5 page)

Trevor had mixed feelings as he watched his mother blithely gathering ingredients for her pie. He couldn’t remember exactly why he had decided to include his mother. To think his future happiness depended on the woman who had ruined his last relationship because of a grain of sand.

He couldn’t hold back the smile creeping out on his face, though, as he watched his mom work in the kitchen. Her mind was obviously far, far away on swimming and swinging grandbabies. She had just poured a cup of salt into what was supposed to be the pie crust. But he had made his mom happy and that was worth something. It was worth a whole lot.

Five

MEGAN WALKED INTO THE office of Western Realty with her shoulders squared and her head up. She was going to sell a house today. She was. Or it would be kibble for dinner.

“Hey, Megan! How was the big reunion?”

Megan tossed her purse and briefcase down behind her desk and smiled at Jackie Wilson, one of the other agents. Jackie’s million-dollar smile had sold millions of dollars worth of houses, and she deserved every penny of her commissions. She was worth it. And she was nice. Even though they never saw each other outside of the office, Megan liked her very much. Jackie had bright, long red hair, beautiful blue eyes, and thousands of dollars worth of dental work, all of which contributed to a very active social life. She looked like a million bucks.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how horrible it was.”

Jackie chuckled as she looked over a contract she was planning on signing later that day. “I went to mine two years ago. I was the only one there who was divorced and I hadn’t even brought a date. For some reason, I had assumed I’d be dancing with all of my ‘still single’ ex-boyfriends. Boy, was I wrong. I sat in a corner the whole night and stuffed myself from the buffet. It was a nightmare. I think I gained three pounds.”

Megan smiled sympathetically, kicking herself for not stuffing her purse from the buffet before leaving. She hadn’t been thinking clearly.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be going back for my twenty-year reunion. Of course, maybe by then they’ll have lost the picture of my rear end they had plastered on the wall.”

Jackie snorted, trying hard not to laugh outright.

“You’re kidding me! If they had done that to me, my dad would have taken a horsewhip to whoever’s bright idea that had been.”

Megan’s smile dimmed a little as she remembered she had no one to stick up for her. She was relieved when the phone rang and it was one of Jackie’s clients. She didn’t really want to relive every moment of that horrible, horrible night by sharing the details with her co-worker. She had to concentrate. She had to come up with a way to sell a house today. If she didn’t, she’d have to go to her mom for money. The last time she had asked her mom for anything had been eight years ago after she’d been fired from Royden, Powell & Associates. She had been refused then and nothing had been offered since.

The bell over the door jingled as a small, darkly attractive woman walked in. She looked to be in her late forties or early fifties. And she looked like business. Megan groaned, trying not to be jealous of Jackie’s good fortune.

Megan looked over to get Jackie’s nod and couldn’t help it when her eyes widened in surprise. Jackie had written on a piece of notebook paper the words, “I’m swamped! Take her, please!” Megan shook her head suspiciously at Jackie. No real estate agent was ever too busy to take on a new client. Ever. Jackie smiled brightly and turned around in her swivel chair, showing Megan her back. Megan knew Jackie had to be aware of her lack of clients. She was just being very, very nice. Megan knew this was charity, but decided instantly that she would take it. When she was a million-dollar producer like Jackie, she would pay her friend back.

Megan rose from her chair and quickly walked over to the woman who had picked up a brochure of homes for sale in the area.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

The lady put the brochure down and turned to stare at her.

Megan cleared her throat nervously as the lady continued to stare without saying a word. Maybe she would just let Jackie have this one anyway, Megan thought.

“Are you Megan Garrett, or is the redhead Megan?” Megan’s eyebrows rose a fraction. Could this be a referral?

The thought alone had her heart doing cartwheels. Word-of-mouth advertising was the only advertising she could afford at the moment. This must be her lucky day.

“I’m Megan.”

The lady looked down and studied Megan’s shoes then worked her way up to the skirt she was wearing. The belt didn’t take long, but when she came to the shirt, something kept her there for at least a minute, and then the woman moved up to Megan’s face. The two women stared at each other. Megan grew more and more alarmed. Why were people always staring at her? In any case, her hopes for selling a house that day slowly dimmed and then completely disappeared.

“Was there something I could help you with today? Are you thinking of buying a new home or selling?”

The woman, staring hard at Megan’s hair, ignored her completely. This was not going very well. Megan looked over her shoulder at Jackie. A rescue might become necessary. Jackie had another piece of notebook paper with “911?” written on it. Megan shook her head slightly. Hopefully she could handle this without calling in the big guns.

“All right.” The woman stated with a note of finality. Megan’s thoughts were stopped in mid-stride as the woman’s simple statement brought her back. All right? That was it? Megan fidgeted slightly before answering.

“Um, was that ‘all right you wanted to buy a home,’ or ‘all right you wanted to sell a home?’”

The woman’s stern face relaxed completely. Her eyes began to twinkle as she smiled at Megan. Megan looked back over her shoulder at Jackie again. This should teach her a lesson. Never accept charity walk-ins from other realtors. Of course, this woman had known Megan’s name, so she would have been stuck anyway.

“Would you like to look at some other brochures we have?” Megan asked slowly and clearly.

The woman opened her purse and popped a stick of gum into her mouth before placing the sunglasses that had been resting on her head back over her eyes.

“I think you’ll do nicely. Why don’t we take a drive and I’ll show you my house? I want you to sell it for me. A list of lots would be helpful, too. I’m going to be building a new home. With a pool.”

Megan tried to cover her mouth as she tried valiantly to keep from laughing. Something had just come over her and she couldn’t stop herself. She had never been hysterical before so of course, with Megan’s luck, it would have to happen in front of a client who wanted her to sell her house for her. The woman looked very concerned for a moment, and then compassion filled her eyes. She walked over to Megan and patted her shoulder gently.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay. I’ve been there before, too. Go on and grab your purse. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Megan went from hysterical laughter to inexplicable tears almost instantly. Both the commissions this woman was practically handing her on a silver platter were going to have to go for therapy. Hurrying to her desk, Megan grabbed her purse and briefcase as well as her copy of the Multiple Listings book. Jackie was still on the phone, but she gave her a thumbs-up signal encouragingly. Megan took a deep breath of air into her lungs, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and ordered herself to be calm. She could do this. She didn’t exactly have a choice.

The bright sunshine hit her right in the eyes as she tried to locate the woman. She wasn’t standing beside the building—she was standing in the parking lot beside a brand new white Ford Excursion. It was monstrous-looking next to the petite woman, and completely incongruous. It also meant she had money. Megan ran a hand through her hair and walked confidently towards the woman.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name when we were talking inside.”

The woman smiled as she opened the car door.

“My name is Cora. Why don’t you hop in on the other side? I’ll drive so you don’t have to waste your gas.”

Megan smiled and closed her eyes as she realized how perceptive and kind this woman was. It was hard for her to drive clients all around the valley when gas prices were so high. But Stan Phillips, her broker, had a strict rule: no riding in cars alone with male clients. Still, he hadn’t said anything about riding with nice little old ladies. Her gut feeling told her it was okay, so she walked around to the opposite side and climbed in. At five feet seven inches she wasn’t short, but she still had to hoist up her skirt and jump a little to reach the seat. But as Megan looked around, she knew it was worth it. The thing was a tank. It might look silly in the summer, but this coming winter, Megan knew what she was asking Santa for. No way was this thing getting stuck in snow. The creamy white leather interior didn’t hurt either.

“Wow.”

Cora laughed heartily as she drove quickly out of the parking lot and headed north.

“It’s a gift from my son. My car got stuck last winter. I sat in my car and practically froze to death before a very kind police officer came to my rescue. When my son heard about it, he had a conniption fit. I call it the beast, so I hope everyone’s calling me Beauty.”

Megan chuckled politely and wondered if someday she would have a son as thoughtful as Cora’s. How sweet.

“So why don’t you tell me a little about your home before we get there? I can start taking down some information now and save you some time.”

Cora glanced at her and grinned.

“Driving isn’t work time, Megan. It’s fun time.”

Cora popped in a CD and began singing along to an opera Megan didn’t even recognize. Megan felt the tension ease out of her shoulders and stomach as she was completely charmed by this crazy woman. All she knew about her was that she had a bad habit of staring, she had a great son, and she couldn’t sing at all. Megan decided to like her on the spot.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Cora drove up to a small, gray stucco home near the center of Orem and pulled into an even smaller garage. Megan clenched her hands as she closed her eyes, waiting to hear the clash of the car running into the wall. As Cora turned the engine off, Megan blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought it possible.

“Hey, you should see me pack a suitcase,” Cora boasted proudly.

Megan eased the door open a couple inches and barely squeezed out. Cora had gotten the monster SUV inside the poor little garage, but there was no room for anything else. Not even a cobweb.

“Come on in. We’ll eat some lunch before I give you the big tour. It’s only leftovers, but they’re pretty good. I made enchiladas last night, and I made way too many. I don’t know why I do, but every time my son comes to town, I tend to go overboard. It’s just in my nature.”

Megan followed Cora and noted all of the major points of the house. Nice, well-kept yard, beautiful mature maple trees, shrubs and roses. Stucco house, so no upkeep—perfect. Small windows, but plenty of them. Cora opened the front door for Megan and followed her in while Megan continued her internal monologue.

Good carpet—must be new—two-tone paint, fireplace with marble mantle. Roomy living room, quaint nook. Small kitchen but state-of-the-art appliances. Very sellable.

Someone had obviously done some heavy duty remodeling and hired an interior decorator, too. This would be an easy commission. Shoot, if she had seen it before her house had caught her eye, she would have gone for this one. It was lovely.

“Why in the world would you sell this house? It’s just adorable.”

Cora opened the fridge, smiling over her shoulder at Megan.

“I knew I was going to like you. You have good taste. I will miss it. My husband and I bought it right before my son was born. I’ve lived here a long time. But my son insists that I sell it. The neighborhood has gotten kind of scary lately. You know, the police had a drug bust on the house down the street just last month. Turns out it was a meth lab. Can you believe it? If my son knew that, he would have carted me out years ago. The only reason I’m moving is because of the grandkids. There really isn’t a lot of room for running around. And forget about a pool or a swing set. Nope, it’s time I move and give this house to someone who will appreciate it as much as I did. Every time I get sad about leaving I just think of all my grandkids swimming in my brand new pool and playing in the sandbox. I can just see them now.”

Megan sat down at the small kitchen table and propped her chin in her hands. Watching Cora putter in the kitchen was such a soothing thing. She felt instantly at home for some reason. Or maybe it was just the thought of impending food that made her so happy. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had enchiladas.

“So how many grandchildren do you have, Cora?”

Cora stuck the food in the microwave and reached for two glasses.

“To be honest . . . zero. But I have a lot of faith in my son. He’s going to come through for me. We made a bargain.”

Megan laughed. She was going to have to meet this son. He sounded interesting.

“You are going to be one great grandma. I bet your grandkids are sitting up in heaven right now, just bursting at the seams to get down here. What lucky kids.”

Cora placed the glass of lemonade in front of Megan and turned away to catch the tear that slipped down her cheek. She sniffed quietly as she took the plates out of the microwave. She didn’t want to impede the arrival of her grandsons and granddaughters in any way. She would just have to work faster. The poor things were probably getting impatient.

“We can sign the contracts—I mean, contract—right after lunch. Is that all right with you?”

Megan placed her lemonade carefully back on the table and gazed steadily at Cora.

“You’re not playing games with me, are you? I mean, you really want me to sell your home for you, just like that? We haven’t even discussed it! How did you hear about me? Was it the Cutlers? Or the Brummels? Or is this one of Dylan’s little games!”

Cora looked guiltily down at her plate as she realized she had screwed up. She had to play this just right or everything could fall apart.