Fix You (9 page)

             
Ideal for inn or B&B
, she read again.

             
For over a month now, she’d done nothing but react to the hell around her. She wanted to
act
. She wanted to
do something
.

             
Jo had looked at her like she was crazy at lunch, but all her life she’d shied away from crazy, doing every last little thing she was supposed to do, risk-averse to the end. Maybe crazy was underrated.

             
Jess folded down the page and set the booklet back on the nightstand. Today had sucked, but tomorrow was a new day.

7

             
T
he drive was two dirt tire tracks with a strip of grass between, so unremarkable Jess would have missed it had she been the one driving. But three-hundred-year-old Millie Marshall the real estate agent saw it, bifocals and all, and her boat of a Cadillac hit the rut at the curb with a jump that sent Tyler bouncing up out of his seat. Jess saw his head in the rearview mirror and was grateful the weight of Willa’s carseat kept her from smacking against the roof.

             
“Whoa,” Tyler said with a laugh, and Willa giggled. So at least they weren’t bothered by the whiplash.

             
“The house sits on the back of the property,” Millie said. She had a voice like the rustling of bird wings, too quiet and indistinct. “It has a beautiful view of the lake.”

             
“Okay.” Jess grabbed at the dash as they bobbed down into a pothole to the sound of more giggling from the backseat. “Where’s the guest cottage?”

             
“Right beside the house, dear.”

             
The drive snaked between thick copses of pines and birches, climbing slowly upward, and then the Cadillac waddled its way over the crest of a hill and left the trees, emerging into a several acre clearing that did, in fact, on either side of the house, go all the way to the muddy brown edge of the lake. Jess saw the waving, tall stalks of grass, the overgrown gardens, the falling-apart outbuildings and the little white cottage for caretakers, but it was the mansion itself that pulled her eyes: a monolithic, decaying beast of a structure.

             
It had been white once, before the mildew had taken over. Before the windows had cracked. Before the soffits had swollen with water and begun to sag. And it was indeed a Victorian mansion: the sloped eaves of the roof, the wraparound porch, the turret, the spires, the gingerbread and sheer slap-you-in-the-face, unapologetic size and grandeur of the place. It had settled on the grass long, long ago and made itself comfortable, its wings outstretched, its footprint bold. It had been grand; it had been beautiful; it had been, at some point, worth a pretty million dollars or two. But time and weather and a lack of love had ruined it.

             
Jess had sucked in a deep breath before she realized it, because suddenly Tyler was out of his seatbelt and leaning up between the front seats. “What?” he asked, peering through the dash. “That is a
big
house, Mama. Are we gonna live there?”

             
“I don’t know,” she said absently, and even if her answer should have been
no
, she truly didn’t know, because her need to
do something
was throbbing inside her like a second heartbeat.

             
Millie took them all the way up the end of the drive that circled around what had once been a fountain – but was now a tiered bundle of weeds and vines that startled birds fled from –and braked the Caddy to a halt. Jess almost leapt from the car, suddenly anxious in a way that left her palms clammy: first date anxious, new job anxious, something special anxious. Tyler tumbled out too.

             
“Stay right here with me,” she warned him and went around to fetch Willa from her carseat.

             
“Essie, Essie, Essie,” Willa was saying like she did when she was excited or nervous. Jess propped her on her hip and walked around the front of the car to wait for Millie. “Go home?” Willa asked.

             
“Not yet, baby,” Jess soothed, and rocked her and stared at the house because her eyes didn’t want to leave it.

             
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Millie asked as she eased her ancient way out from behind the wheel.

             
“In a falling-down sort of way,” Jess said with a quick, disbelieving cough of a laugh. She hadn’t comprehended how such a place could be so cheap, but she was beginning to understand.

             
“The owner inherited it from her parents, and them from their parents before,” Millie said. “She’s getting on in years – the owner, bless her – and she has no one to leave it to. She doesn’t want to turn a profit off the sale, just to see it put in good hands.”

             
And what would you call the hands that let it go to shit?
Jess wondered. “How long’s it been empty?”

             
“Ten years, maybe.”

             
Damn
.

             
“Let’s go inside.”

             
The porch groaned under their feet. The “original hardwoods” were in dire need of refinishing, maybe even replacing. The “vintage charm” consisted of garish eighties-era wallpaper, all of it clashing, all of it hideous, some of it velveteen to the touch and spotted with mildew. The kitchen was once-white, filthy, caked with grime, the sink full of rust, trash lingering in the corners. The plumbing didn’t work. A smell of decay pervaded the place and gave Willa the instant sniffles. Exposed wires curled like snakes from holes in the wall. Teenagers had broken in and left cigarette butts and graffiti behind. Old beer cans and, most likely, a used condom or two if she chose to search for them.

             
But the sheer size and number of the rooms was staggering. The ceilings were high. The fireplace in the great room was a breathtaking feat of sculpted marble that needed a good polishing. The windows – all of the windows – poured butter yellow summer sunlight across the sad, lonely interior and warmed the shifting glamour of what had once been. Like a ghost, Jess saw the shine of the floors, the former splendor of the finishings, the furnished grandeur of the place as a thin film overlaying the broken reality: an echo of the past and the beauty that had once lived within these battered walls.

             
It was broken. It was haunted. Just like her.

             
But it had bones, and it had memories, and it had the ability to be something strong again. Just like her.

             
Millie rattled and wheezed the house’s history as they went from room to room. Tyler found a dead mouse and tried to put it in his pocket, pouted when Jess swatted it out of his hand. Willa babbled and pieced together nonsensical, two-year-old sentences. And finally, the tour came to an end, emptying them into the front parlor where they’d begun.

             
“What do you think?” Millie asked, little blue-veined hands clasped in front of her.

             
Jess shook her head. “I think my sister’s gonna shit a brick.”

**

              “You have lost your damn mind,” Jo said, and tightened her grip on her squirming daughter.

             
“Down, Mama,” Willa pleaded and Jo snorted.

             
“Not on your life, little girl.” Her blue-green eyes pegged Jess from across the cavernous great room in the Allatoona mansion. “I repeat, Aunt Essie, you’ve lost your damn mind.”

             
Jess shrugged. “Maybe so. But I want it.”

             
Jo shook her head and her gaze moved across the peeling velvet wallpaper and the cracked plaster beneath, the stained and damaged floors. “I’m all for you getting your mojo back, but Jess…” her eyes came back, slightly dazed, “
why
?”

             
In Jordan’s old bed the night before, unable to sleep and starting at the dark ceiling above her, Jess had worked all of it out in her mind. She’d wondered if the fresh light of morning would make the whole venture seem like folly, but that hadn’t happened. She had some Jordie-levels of Certainty swirling through her and they wouldn’t be squelched. “I ran a hotel once,” she reminded, “I know exactly what goes into that.”

             
“Yeah, you ran a hotel years ago,” Jo said, frowning, “and it was already there. You didn’t have to resurrect the thing from the dead. Do you have any idea how much revamping this place would cost? If it could even be saved at all. You’d be lucky if it was livable for you, much less paying customers - ”

             
Jess cut her off with a lifted hand. “I know all of that, okay? I’m not an idiot.”

             
Jo sighed. “I didn’t say you were.”

             
Might as well have. “They only want two-twenty for the house and I might even be able to talk the owner down. I can take out a renovation loan that will cover the value of the house after purchase and remodel.”

             
“And how will you pay this loan? You have no income and Dylan won’t agree to settlement terms.”

             
“I’ll make him agree, or I’ll borrow money, something. It’ll take thirty days to close on the house and I can figure something out between now and then.”

             
Jo’s look of disbelief was reminiscent of their oldest brother, a comparison Jo would have hated. “You can’t do this by yourself.”

             
“I know.” Jess steeled herself against the reaction she expected. “That’s why I want you to partner with me.”

             
It was silent a long moment save Willa’s struggle to get down and Tyler’s feet thumping across the floor in the front parlor as he searched for lizards. Jo’s eyes got big, but she didn’t voice her question: it was apparently too big and thorny to put into words. Jess had been prepared for this, and she’d rehearsed her speech.

             
“You’re tough as nails, Jo,” she began, “and I’m going to need someone like that to help me work through this. You know you don’t make jack at that vet’s office and you aren’t going to vet school.” Her sister scowled. “You want to stay local and you want more kids, admit it. It’s going to be a massive undertaking, but once we get this place fixed up and open for business, we could turn a profit. This could be a good opportunity for you – for both of us. No daycare for the kids, no manager telling us what to do - ”

             
“No, we’d just be responsible twenty-four/seven for our guests. We’d be slaves to an inn. Not to mention,” she hoisted Willa up higher on her hip and her scowl deepened, “I have a job. A good job. I can’t quit for some crazy scheme like this.”

             
“Tam’s making good money now.”

             
“Oh, so you think he should fund this?”

             
“No, but he could support you. You don’t have to keep working.”

             
Her jaw set at a stubborn angle. “I told you I would help you. I didn’t say I’d turn my life upside down.”

             
“That’s not what I’m asking you to do. This could be an opportunity, Jo. Do you want to live with Mom and Dad forever? You and Tam could live in the cottage, you - ”

             
Jo cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “We’ll be in the car,” she said, and brushed past Jess on her way out.

**

              The first time it happened, Tam had been startled, but he’d since come to expect that his wife could be sitting on the closed toilet lid when he pushed back the shower curtain, her little chin propped on a fist, some worry or other knitting her brows together. She’d been moody and twitchy for a week about Jessica’s inn fantasy, and he guessed that was what was on her mind on a Wednesday morning when she handed him his towel and waited, chewing at her lip, while he dried off, knotted the towel around his hips, and went to the mirror to shave.

             
“Call me crazy,” she said finally as he dragged the razor across his cheek for the first time.

             
“Morning, Crazy.”

             
“But I’m actually starting to consider Jess’s whole partner thing.”

             
Which didn’t surprise him in the least. “Yeah?”

             
“I…” She let out a long, slow breath. “I’m never going to vet school – she was right about that.”

             
“Well don’t say ‘never’. I’m making decent money now and if in a couple of years you decide - ”

             
“Tam.”

             
His hand fell away from his face and he turned to her, wanting to read what she was really thinking and feeling on her face. Her expression was a touch wistful, but not upset, not even sad, really. “You’ve given up on that, haven’t you?” he asked, knowing the answer. “Joey, I told you that after I finished school and once I was working - ”

             
She stayed him with a hand. “I know, sweetie, I know. And you have no idea how much I appreciate that. But I…” her smile took a sheepish twist, “I knew I wasn’t ever going when we got married. I gave up on vet school a long time ago.”

             
But, maybe stupidly, he hadn’t given up on it for her. He wanted her to have exactly what she wanted and nothing less. Tam had never wanted to be some charity case who held her back. “I didn’t know.”