Fixer-Upper (Spinning Hills Romance 3) (24 page)

Marty reached them then, and Marianne put on her indifferent face.

“Congratulations, man. You guys reached your goal.” He slapped Johnny’s arm. “And the kids are awesome. They did a great job. It makes me wish I was going with you all.”

Marianne raised an eyebrow. “You’d like to be stuck on a bus with thirty-something teenagers and their raging hormones for days on end?”

Marty laughed. “When you put it that way . . .” He looked at Johnny again then, and his laughter died away. “Listen, I, uh, I don’t mean to be a jerk, but the party for Marissa and Brian is in a week and I haven’t heard from either of you”—his gaze flickered to Marianne before settling on Johnny again—“or your brothers. It’s pretty casual, but I’m knee-deep in it now and I need a head count.”

“I can’t speak for my brothers, but I’m not going.” Johnny looked him in the eye. No more beating around the bush or softening blows. Marty and Marissa had taught him that. So if the truth made Marty uncomfortable, so be it. “It would be too hard.”

Marty nodded and his eyes flickered from Marianne to Johnny. “Hey, I understand. And if you, uh, ever want to talk about it . . .”

Johnny grinned. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Marty smiled, too, and then shook his head and left.

Marianne frowned. “What am I missing?” she asked, but Johnny began to walk away. “Is there something going on besides your pitiful salary, the godforsaken house, and the bus trip from hell?” she asked, trailing after him. “Johnny!”

Johnny stopped. He wasn’t in the mood for a tirade. But when he turned to tell his mom he had to go, the look he saw on her face wasn’t what he expected. She looked vulnerable and open. “I heard what you said.”

“I said a lot of things . . .”

“About you and Sam
choosing
not to be with me.” It wasn’t exactly what he’d said, and it wasn’t what he’d meant at the moment, but the way she’d interpreted it was true enough. “I’ve always considered myself a good mom, but I guess if my own sons didn’t even want to be at home . . .”

Johnny swallowed a sigh. Here came the guilt trip. But his mother must’ve seen it in his face because she said, “No, let me finish.” She licked her lips. “I must’ve been doing something wrong if you didn’t want to be at home. And I know what it is. I know you didn’t like that Dan and I couldn’t get along.”

Johnny looked around. Star Springs Park was full. People were laughing and chatting all around them, and this was where his mom finally wanted to have this conversation? “That’s one way of putting it.”

Marianne’s throat worked. “Did you see how he and Holly seated me up front at the wedding and reception? Part of me wonders if he did it to show you and Sam he’s the better person, but lately, part of me wonders if—if maybe now he
is
the better person.” She drew in a long breath and put a hand to her chest. “I just can’t help how I
feel.
I’ve never been able to help it. It’s in
here
.” She pressed her fingers to her chest.

“Maybe not. But you can help how you act, and you can control the words that come out of your mouth.” A lesson Johnny was only fully learning now himself.

Marianne looked away, and Johnny felt as if he were in the twilight zone. “Is Dan the reason you chose to become a school psychologist?” she asked, her voice lifeless.

Not entirely. But he was a huge part of the equation. Him and Ana Maria . . .
“Everything that happened at home is a part of it. But I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t do this right now. I need to go congratulate the kids. They’re having their moment.”

He squeezed her arm to show her he was glad she was finally trying to think things through, but he wasn’t going to stay to try to make her feel better. It was no longer his job to defuse difficult situations. It never should have been in the first place.

 

Brian squeezed Marissa’s hands. “I need to change. Do you want to meet back at your house when you’re done here?”

Marissa nodded. Brian left and she began to make her way back to the celebrating kids when a frazzled Amy stopped her. “We need to talk,” she said, before pacing this way and that. “You swore me to secrecy, Johnny swore me to secrecy. Too much secrecy! But it’s not fair. I shouldn’t be the only one to know. Johnny needs to know, you need to know—”

“Amy. Stop.” Marissa put her hands on her friend’s shoulders to stop her incessant pacing. “What do I need to know?”

 

Later that evening, Marissa was the one who was pacing. Brian watched her from the porch wing. He did not look happy. “Johnny’s always been a dumbass.”

Marissa started at him. “I don’t get it. Why are you so mad?”

“We’re supposed to sign a lease on a house tomorrow, but now you want to gather this
loco
brigade to go to his house and help fix it up.”

“It’s the right thing to do. Can’t you see that?”

“What a pair the two of you would make,” he grumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t think I see the way he looks at you?”

Marissa remained silent.

Brian set his mouth in a hard line. “I’ve never been the jealous type. And so far, you haven’t given me cause. But now you’re acting like he’s some kind of saint, when all he’s doing is being the same impulsive and irresponsible kid he’s always been.”

“How can you say that? He donated three thousand six hundred dollars! Because of him, the kids get to go on the trip. And he did it anonymously. He didn’t even want the credit.”

“And you’re the second anonymous donator. You gave them the thousand you had left in your savings, didn’t you?”

Marissa stopped pacing and lifted her chin defiantly. “Yes.”

Brian scrubbed his face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying you were wrong. I get to spend money on things I like and you get to spend money on things you like. That’s fine. It’s why we both contribute to a joint account, to save for a down payment and take care of the things we need to care of together.” He shook his head. “But if you hadn’t been contributing to our joint account, you would’ve donated more. Like Johnny did. He doesn’t think. What happens when he gets married and has the house full of kids he’s always talked about? Is he going to have them living in a moldy shack with a pack of dogs ’cause he can’t say no to anyone in need?”

Marissa stared. “I still don’t see why you’re so mad.”

He sighed. “I’m not mad, and I’m not saying he’s a bad person. Obviously, he isn’t. But he doesn’t think ahead. He never has. Can’t you see that? And he’s a bad influence on you. The two of you would run yourselves to the ground if nobody stopped you, and cheer each other on while doing it.”

Marissa breathed in a painful breath. She didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t even know where to start. “You and I . . . we’re not getting each other anymore, Brian,” she said in a strangled voice.

Brian stopped pacing and closed his eyes a moment before opening them and looking around. “This is killing us. All of it. The distance, your living situation, the endless things we need to take care of... I’m so friggin’ tired of it all.” He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t do this right now, Marissa. Let’s pick this up tomorrow, after we’ve both had some rest.”

Marissa gulped and nodded.

S
am, Cassie, and Marissa met at Amador Construction later that night, where Marissa explained what Johnny had done. She hoped Johnny wouldn’t get mad at her, but she needed help figuring out what to do. Sam shook his head. “I’m not surprised.”

Cassie sent him a knowing look. “Like you didn’t know it was him the moment they said ‘anonymous donor.’”

“I guess I did.” Sam sighed.

Cassie turned to Marissa. “You don’t have to feel bad, though. You know Johnny. It’ll mean a lot to him that he was able to do it, and he’ll never regret it.”

“I know, but I have an idea of how to make it up to him. Something that’ll be great for everyone involved,” Marissa explained. “But I need your help.”

Cassie’s sky-blue eyes took on a new glow. “We’re in! Tell us the plan.”

Sam looked up the ceiling, as if asking heaven to help him, and Marissa bit her lip. “First, I need to know what Johnny was planning on doing with the money.”

“He was going to buy paint and quartz countertops for the kitchen. I guess now he’ll have to take leftover paint from other projects and use cheaper countertops.” He looked Marissa in the eye then. “I’d buy him the quartz, you know, but I can tell you right now he won’t accept it. He can be real stubborn.”

Marissa’s eyes flitted over to Cassie and the two women shared a secret smile. Everyone knew the main thing all Amadors had in common was how stubborn they were. A memory of Jacob Amador came to Marissa then, and a new idea popped into her head . . . but she’d have to ask Johnny how he felt about it.

Sam led them out back to a big barn, where he kept everything he salvaged from the construction sites he worked on. He flipped a switch and glaring, fluorescent lights made them all wince. “Ta-da!” Cassie exclaimed.

Marissa smiled at her. Picking through everything with Cassie was going to be fun. “What paint colors did he want?” Cassie asked Sam.

Sam thought about it for a moment. “He mentioned yellow for the outside, but that’s all he’s said on the subject.”

“Yellow . . .” Marissa smiled and picked her way over to the paint to get a closer look. “That’s my favorite color!” Each container had an identifying spot of paint up top. “This one,” she exclaimed, when a happy, sunny yellow caught her eye. “It will look so pretty with the red roof, and the house will really stand out against the blue sky and all the greenery . . .” But then all the arguments she and Brian had had over houses came to mind. “But that’s presumptuous of me. He might hate it. It’s his house, of course he should pick it out himself.”

“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Cassie reasoned. “And Johnny’s not picky. He always leaves that stuff up to Sam when they work on houses.”

Sam nodded. “How about you pick everything out, including color for the all the trim and interior walls, and I’ll let you know if I think he’d approve. Cassie and I have some contracts to go through, and we’ll be in the office for a while. Come get us when you’re done gathering everything and I’ll load it up.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Marissa beamed at them, then took another look around. “And I have another idea. Johnny would have to approve, but if you don’t mind, can I pick out some of those, too?” she asked, pointing to a pile in a corner.

Sam looked at her for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out what she was up to, but he shrugged and said, “Sure. Help yourself.”

Marissa dove in. Every once in a while, she’d look out and up to the house, to make sure Cassie and Sam were still there. She could see them sitting at a conference table, their heads bent over it. Once she caught them gazing into each other’s eyes, and twice she caught them kissing, and she’d quickly ducked back in. It seemed they were well-entertained and she wasn’t imposing on them by taking so long.

It had dawned on her early on that picking out colors and special ideas for Johnny’s imperfect house was a lot more enjoyable than looking for the perfect house with Brian. She knew, deep down, that Johnny would love the idea she had for the countertops, and it filled her with anticipation that bordered on something she couldn’t yet allow herself to examine too closely. Not until she was on the other side of the Mosaic Fair.

 

On Saturday morning, Johnny was leaning over his roof, trying to readjust one of the gutters, when the sound of tires crunching on gravel made him look out toward the long driveway. A car he didn’t recognize was coming, followed by two more cars he didn’t recognize, and then Marissa’s car and Sam’s truck. He squinted against the bright glare of the sun against the windshield of the first car, unable to see who was inside. What was going on?

He climbed down a ladder he’d propped up out back and hit the ground just as doors began slamming. When he came around the front, he saw Azra, Veronica, Aleksandra, Javier, Isaac, a few of their parents and older siblings, and Marissa, Sam, and Cassie. “Surprise! It’s the
brigada loca
again! Choo-choo!” Veronica shouted.

“Brigade, not train,” Javier snapped at her. Veronica looked like she was going to snap back, but Marissa cut her off.

“Surprise!” she yelled.

“Yes! Surprise!” Cassie scrambled out of Sam’s truck.

Johnny walked toward them, feeling thoroughly confused. “What’s this? What’re you all doing here? Not that I’m not always ecstatic to see you . . .” He grinned at the kids. They all rolled their eyes at that one.

Marissa squared her shoulders, as if she was ready to do battle. “This is our last and most lucrative fund-raiser before the trip.”

Johnny squinted down at her. “You’re not making sense.” He then looked over at Sam, who was unloading five-gallon pails of paint from the truck with a few of the parents. “What’s going on?” Sam merely nodded toward the kids.

Veronica stepped up. “We know you gave the money, Mr. A. We pay back by helping you with your house.”

Johnny’s insides fell. “This isn’t necessary. How’d you find out?” His heart sank. He’d thought he could trust Amy.

Marissa swept her hands to her sides, as if brushing his questions and reservations away. “You and I can talk about that later. But we all really want to do this. The kids deserve the chance to feel they’ve earned their way, we all had a blast the last time we worked together at the school, and we’ll learn valuable skills.”

They all looked so excited—there was no way Johnny could say no. There really wasn’t a reason to. Marissa was right. Johnny shrugged and led the way, to give them all the tour and get them organized.

The kids stood openmouthed at the door. “You live like this?”

Johnny, Sam, Cassie, and Marissa all laughed. The house had come a long way. The walls were mudded, sanded, and primed, and the underlayment was installed, but the walls were in need of paint, the flooring was piled in a corner, and the counters had no tops.

Isaac turned to face him. “You sure need help.”

Small barks and whimpering interrupted that thought, and the kids immediately dropped everything to follow the sound. Sam and Cassie promptly followed, and as much as Marissa wanted to go visit with the puppies, she was glad she had Johnny alone.

But the moment she turned to him, she was filled with doubts. What if he hated her ideas?

She cleared her throat and began walking toward the door, motioning for him to follow. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “We wanted to surprise you, so Sam let me pick out the paint from leftover gallons he had. He said you wanted yellow for the outside, and that’s all I had to go by. We still have time for you to go back and choose what you want, though.”

She looked back to see Johnny wearing a smile sunnier than the yellow paint she’d picked out. “What?” she asked.

“You’re so cute when you’re fretting over me, puppy-eyes.”

Marissa reached the pickup, turned, and folded her arms over her chest. “I told you not to—”

“Not to call you that. I know. Relax. It was just an observation. You
are
fretting, you
are
cute, and your eyes are doing that beseeching thing again. I saw you and Brian last night and at the wedding. You look in love, Marissa, and I’ve accepted it. I’ve moved on.”

Something in Marissa’s chest dislodged and fell to the ground. All she could think was that Johnny was definitely not as perceptive as he thought he was.

He squatted and looked at the paint that had already been unloaded. “I love this yellow. It’ll look great.” His eyes sparkled up at her and she tried to squeeze out a smile, but something had happened to her heart. It ached, and the ache made the area behind her eyes burn. Johnny got up and went over to the truck. Marissa took deep, painful breaths until she felt on firmer footing before following him.

“The teal blue and bright white are for the trim, but again, if—”

“Marissa, stop. I love it. This is perfect.” The look in his eyes was so earnest and open, she believed him. He looked over at the house, then at the paint, then over at the house again. “I can’t wait to see how it’ll look. I think I’ll love the uneven brushstrokes most.”

Marissa’s weak smile became more real at that. The kids had done a really great job at the school, but you could see the uneven brushstroke here and there.

“What’s all that tile?” he asked, frowning at the crates full of mismatched and broken tile. Marissa suddenly felt monumentally ridiculous.

“Oh. That’s, uh. Oh. Um, it looks like tile.” She paused and stared at it. “Maybe it was already there?”

“Out with it, Marissa. What’s the tile for?” Johnny turned to her, a twinkle in his eyes.

She heaved out a short, but heavy sigh. “Sam said you wanted quartz countertops and that you could no longer have them. I saw the tile and thought maybe we could make mosaic tile countertops for the time being. To remind you of the fair, your first students, and your first summer as a school psychologist. I—I saw your dad doing it to a table once. It turned out so pretty. He saw me watching and he let me put a few tiles in. He showed me how, and I think I could do it again. But I know it’s not current or trendy or practical, and you’re probably better off with laminate.”

 

A lump formed in Johnny’s throat and it made it difficult to get the words out. “My dad taught you that?”

Marissa nodded shyly. He made an effort to release some of the tightness in his chest. “I don’t want quartz, or laminate, or anything else. I want my mosaic tile countertops and brush-stroked house.” He gestured toward the house. “This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me, and I don’t ever want to forget it.”

Marissa gave him a strange look. “
You
did a nice thing, Johnny. This is a thank-you.”

“And what about your thank-you, Marissa? Don’t you think I know who the other anonymous donor was?” he asked, searching her eyes. She hadn’t even been planning on telling him, even though she already knew his secret.

“You’re right. Everyone’s right.” Johnny raked a hand through his hair and dragged out a breath. “We’re a disaster together. A good friend would tell you that you should’ve saved that money for your wedding, your house, and your future kids, but who am I to tell you anything when I’m just as bad?” Noise from inside the house reached them then, and Johnny took a step back and sighed. “I should probably go help the kids get set up.” Marissa simply nodded, without looking at him.

 

Sam and Johnny cut and laid plywood and tile backer, the kids and their parents and guardians began painting, and Marissa began choosing tiles and sanding their edges. She had everyone there choose a piece of tile, and as the day wore on, Marty, Abuela Rosa, Ruby, and Sherry stopped by and chose pieces, too.

Word spread and it became almost a game, where people from town who loved Johnny came by to choose pieces of tile for the mosaic kitchen countertops. It took longer to lay out because she had to keep switching out pieces, but it was worth it.

Dan and Holly stopped by with Ella, even though they’d just gotten back from their honeymoon and they looked like they needed a good, long nap. Marianne Amador chose a piece, too, though she muttered under her breath about how dated the tiled countertops would look.

Glass, porcelain, cement, and stone tile. It was interesting to see who chose what. Marissa found pleasure in making all the odd pieces that didn’t look like they fit come together. She forgot about time, and even about everything that was going on around her. Every once in a while, she’d step back, happy about how harmonious and pretty it all looked.

She wanted the countertops in the heart of Johnny’s home to remind him of his first summer as a school psychologist and the people he loved, how broken things could be brought back to life, and how different things could come together to form one purposeful and lasting whole.

He’d get it.

She took one break, to eat one of the sandwiches her grandmother had brought over, and to sit and rest her aching shoulders against a willow that overlooked the house.

Some of the kids were working hard, while others were laughing and goofing off, the puppies were testing their voices, barking short woofs, and an argument between Aleksandra and Javier was brewing in one corner. It was a noisy chaos, waiting for her to fret and attempt to exert some control over it.

The thought made her want to laugh at herself, and it filled her with peace, because the whole scene was everything she’d ever wanted. She leaned back and smiled, but a second later, she shot up, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.
It was everything she’d ever wanted.

The once-tasty sandwich now tasted like dust.

Marissa went back inside and focused her entire attention on working out the layout, and then laying the tile, becoming completely absorbed once again in the gratifying task. It took her the rest of the day to get it just right. The tile would then seal overnight, and someone would grout it the next day. She looked at her watch. It was eight in the evening. She’d been so focused on the project, she hadn’t noticed that one by one, everyone had left, and only she and Johnny remained.