Read Paradise Valley Online

Authors: Robyn Carr

Tags: #Contemporary Romance, #Small Town

Paradise Valley (15 page)

BOOK: Paradise Valley
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Seven
I
t was ten days after Mel and Cameron’s emergency run to Valley Hospital with Dahlia Creighton when Cheryl came to Virgin River. Mel had heard that Dahlia hadn’t survived long enough for bypass surgery. She’d had far too many medical problems to get through what might have otherwise been an uncomplicated surgery.
This was only the second time Mel had seen Cheryl since she’d entered an alcohol-treatment program over six months ago and the change in her still startled Mel and brought a bright smile to her lips. When Cheryl walked into the clinic, despite the fact that she had just lost her mother, Mel nearly beamed at her. She had to quickly reel in the reaction. This was not a time to grin stupidly. But Cheryl looked so good—fresh, healthy, pretty. It was hard to imagine her the way she’d been when Mel first met her, slouched and dirty, wearing men’s clothes, looking bruised both physically and emotionally.

“Hi, Mrs. Sheridan,” she said. “Did you hear the news about my mother?”

“I did, Cheryl. I’m so sorry for your loss. We did all we could.”

“Of course you did, as did the other doctors. My mother was very sick. Really, she didn’t stand a chance. And she wouldn’t even consider medical treatment before. Truthfully, I don’t think she thought she needed any. And between my father and I, we weren’t alert or smart enough to know, either.”

“This must be a very difficult time for you,” Mel said.

“It is. And challenging, but I have it worked out, sort of. My dad has gone to live with his brother in Yuba City, on the other side of the mountains. I have to deal with the house. It’s mine now. I can’t support my dad, so he’s better off with his brother and Medicare. That’s the best we can do. He has a ton of health problems, too. He has serious emphysema, among other things.”

“Will you move home?”

She shook her head. “I’m never living in that house again. I’m done with that part of my life. I have a decent job in Eureka and someday I might even have my own place.”

“Are you still living in your group home?” Mel asked.

“Well, I have roommates. We’re all in the same program, so it’s like a group home, but not official. I’d sell the house, but it’s just not salable. It’s falling down. I’m going to clean it out of trash. I brought some friends to help,” she said, jerking her chin over her shoulder toward the street in front of the clinic. “I’m going to stop by Jack’s and ask him if he has a problem with us filling up that Dumpster. Most of the junk left behind by my dad will be tossed and we’ll take the bigger stuff to the dump in the back of the pickup.”

“I’m sure Jack will be happy to let you use the Dumpster if it’ll help.”

“As long as we can close the lid when we’re done. Have to close the lid around here or wildlife will get in there and make a mess, disturb the town.”

“And then?” Mel asked.

She shrugged. “I might just let it go, the house. If I can’t keep up the taxes, I’ll lose it eventually, anyway. In the meantime, if anyone you know needs shelter, I can let them use it. As long as they’re not alcoholics or drug addicts. I can’t go along with that.”

Mel smiled. “Still heavy into your program, are you?”

“Amazing and hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“Not really. You were ready.”

She laughed, and her face was so pretty. Her hair so shiny. “More than ready. I just wanted to stop by, say hello and thank-you.”

Mel tilted her head, and her smile was a little sad. “I’ll be sorry not to see you again.”

“I’ll probably be back a couple more times before I’m all done here. Let me give you a phone number, just in case someone desperately needs a roof. That’s about all it is. And if you do run into someone like that, please tell them I didn’t clean the place, just emptied it of trash. It wasn’t really my house. I’m embarrassed by the condition it’s in, but not embarrassed enough to spend days scrubbing it. Being there…it just takes me back to a bad place.”

“I understand,” Mel said, lifting a small notepad off the counter.

Cheryl scratched out her number in Eureka. “Jesus, I wish I could do something for you. I owe you my life. I really do.”

Mel put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me now. I made some phone calls. That’s all. You did all the heavy lifting.”

“There’s the thing,” she said. “No one ever made phone calls for me before. I was the town drunk and no one ever thought I had a chance of being anything else. Till you came here. And that’s the God’s truth.”

“Well,” Mel said, sniffing back emotion. “Weren’t they short-sighted? You’re clearly headed for wonderful things.”

Later the same day, Mel hauled both her kids to the bar at five o’clock. Since he’d moved into the cabin with Abby, Cameron was anxious to get home at the end of the day, even though his dinner at Jack’s was on the house. This was not at all mysterious to Mel.

Jack came around the bar and took David off her hands. “Hey, my man,” he said to his son. “Wanna ride on Da’s back for a while?”

Mel jumped up on a stool and said, “Just hang on to him for a second, Jack. Let me have a diet cola and I’ll get these maniacs home. Bring us something of Preacher’s later?”

“Sure, babe.” He deftly drew her a cola, one-handed, his son on his hip. But David wasn’t in the mood to be confined. He was two now and well into the terribles. He was bowing his back, kicking his feet, whining. “Settle down, bud,” Jack said, hanging on to him. It wasn’t a good idea to give him his freedom in the bar and grill. Nothing but trouble and breakage awaited.

“Got any chips or popcorn?” said a voice just a couple of stools down from Mel.

“Yeah, I can rustle some up,” Jack said. “Gimme a minute, huh? I have my hands full of madness.”

Mel turned and saw it was Dan Brady, having himself a beer.

“I thought if you could hand me the progeny, bring us something to snack on, you and your wife could have a minute.” He held out his hands toward David. “I’m checked out. I know how to hang on to a kid wild with the devil.”

Jack’s eyebrow lifted. “Do you now? Aren’t you just full of surprises. I honestly didn’t know you could do anything but grow weed.” He shifted and handed David across the bar.

At first David squealed in annoyance, but Dan grabbed him and brought him onto his lap. “Hey now,” he said, holding him with a firm arm around his waist, bouncing him on his thigh. “Take it easy. Only in a town of six hundred would it be considered normal to have a kid your age right up at the bar. Count your blessings.”

Jack shook out some Goldfish crackers into a bowl. “His favorite,” he explained.

“Perfect,” Dan said. He turned his attention on David. “So, little man, you want one?” He maneuvered the small cracker into David’s mouth. “Now. Give one to me? Please?”

David thought about it a second, then slowly pushed one toward Dan’s open mouth. “Mmm,” Dan said. “Your turn.” And he plucked one out of the bowl and directed it toward David’s mouth, but pulled it back, making the kid laugh. “Oh, you want that? Can you say please?”

David shook his head obstinately, stiffening his back, grinding his fists into his eyes, pushing out his lower lip. Dan took the Goldfish for himself and laughed. “Let’s try that again,” he said, picking up another. “Please?” he coached.

“Pease,” David said in a pout.

“Wonderful,” Dan approved, popping a Goldfish into his mouth.

“You’re gifted,” Jack observed. “He’s been a real asshole lately.”

“Jack! We were going to try to stop swearing!”

“Yeah, I know. I think I’m doing better at that than you are, by the way. But hasn’t he been?”

“He can’t help it—he’s at the asshole age. He’ll come around.”

“See?” Jack said, grinning at her. “You have a rotten mouth and you can’t help yourself.”

She grinned back at him. “I never uttered a single curse until I met you.”

Dan focused on David. “Your parents are flirting with each other. You better have another fish. You could be on my lap a long time.”

Jack studied him for a moment. “You got some experience there, pal,” he finally said.

“Some,” Dan answered. Then he looked at David and said, “My turn. Please.” And he opened his mouth for a fish.

“Like with kids,” Jack said. “Nephews and nieces or something like that.”

“Something like that,” he said. And then, to David. “Your turn. Say please.”

“Pease,” he said, smiling and opening his dripping, goopy mouth.

Dan looked at Jack. “How’s the boy? Rick?”

“Aw, I don’t know. Mel and Preacher both say he’s working through the whole thing, but he’s different. He doesn’t reach out, you know? He doesn’t call me, doesn’t call the girlfriend. He was so into that girl, I can’t even explain how much. Nowadays, he avoids her.”

“Having a hard time, I guess,” Dan said, right before he looked at David and said, “Your turn. Say please.”

“Pease!”

“How’s the girl handling that?” Dan asked Jack.

“You know, I didn’t have a real conversation with you for three years and now you’re like a neighbor. No, you sound like a goddamn shrink.”

Dan smiled at him and opened his mouth for a fish. But David shouted, “Pease!”

“She’s trying to understand,” Mel said, answering for Jack. “I think it’s hurting her a lot, but she’s amazingly patient and understanding for a young girl. There’s a counselor she talked to once before who’s trying to help her out. At least there’s that.” She shook her head and kissed Emma’s fat cheek. “She’s only a senior in high school. Just turned eighteen. They fell in love too young.”

Dan looked back at David and said, “Please.” Then it was David’s turn again, but Dan turned to Mel. “Eighteen and…What did you say he was? Twenty? They have a lot of time to get beyond this. It could take a while, but they have a while. They’re just kids.”

“They hurt,” Mel said. “I just hate to see them hurt like that.”

“Nobody gets through the years without a ton of pain, you know?” And then David yelled at him. “Oh. Please,” he said, opening his mouth for a fish. He chewed and smiled. “You’re going to get so sick of the good manners here. It gets old.”

The door to the bar opened and Cheryl Creighton stuck her head in. “Jack, we’re all done over at the house and I’m afraid we filled up your Dumpster. The house isn’t how it should be, but it’s cleaned up some. Let me leave you a key. If anyone needs to use it, just let me know, huh? Mel’s got my number. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it yet. But really—”

“House?” Dan said. “Trailer? Condo? Room? Shed? Lean-to?”

“Cheryl’s house is empty,” Mel said. “She says it’s not in good shape.”

“Would you let me see it?” Dan asked.

She frowned. “Listen, it’s falling apart. It’s—”

“Does it have hot water? A toilet that flushes? Lights that turn on and off?”

“And that’s about all.”

“Would you let me see it? Is it for rent?”

Cheryl frowned slightly. “Listen, first of all, you’re not going to need much of a look to see you’d be better off sleeping in your truck. And second, I’ll only let someone stay there on a recommendation from the Sheridans. I don’t really care if the thing burns down, but I don’t want anything bad to happen in that neighborhood because I let some riffraff in.”

Dan smiled slightly. “First of all, I
am
sleeping in my truck. And second, I could maybe get a reference from my boss. He seems to like me.”

“I’ll vouch for him, Cheryl. If he thinks he wants to rent it,” Jack said.

This caused a look of surprise to take over Dan’s face, but it disappeared as David was shoving a Goldfish into his mouth.

Cheryl thought about it for a second. Then she shrugged. “Well, at least it’ll go cheap if you’re interested. But you won’t be interested. Come on, let’s get this over with. I want to get home.” And she turned and left.

Dan stood and hefted David toward Jack. “Well, gee. Maybe my luck is turning around.”

“If I vouch for you,” Jack said, “I’ll be watching you.”

Dan laughed. “Oh golly, Jack. I just wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dan got in his truck and followed Cheryl the short couple of blocks to the neighborhood. She had three other people besides herself in an extended cab truck—one guy, two women. The truck bed was loaded with what appeared to be broken-down furniture, covered with a tarp and tied down. He supposed if they were cleaning out the house, she had needed some help.

He looked first at the neighborhood in general—it wasn’t upper middle class, that was for sure. The houses were small, most in poor repair. But there were a few that stood out and looked as if they were maintained with care, kept immaculate with tidy flower beds and healthy yards. When Cheryl pulled up in front of an old house, some of the flaws were instantly apparent—the porch was missing boards and was about to fall down altogether, one window was covered with plastic kept in place by duct tape and the roof was about half-rotten shingles. Well, he wouldn’t be getting up there. But he worked for a builder who had roofers—maybe he could get a discount to keep the rain off his head.

Inside was actually better than he expected. It didn’t smell great, but all that would take was soap and water. He stepped right into a living room/dining room—the walls needed plaster and paint, the floors needed resurfacing, that window needed glass, the lighting fixtures were ancient and therefore so was much of the wiring. But there was a large stone fireplace on one wall, large windows on the other. A door off the dining area probably led to the bedroom.

The kitchen was small, barely room for a little table and four chairs, about 1950s vinyl decor. The linoleum on the floor was scarred, cracked, peeling and permanently stained. A couple of cupboard doors were missing and the stove and refrigerator were at least as old as he was. There seemed to be a room behind the kitchen, but the add-on was sloppy—it wasn’t level with the rest of the house. Dan stepped carefully across that uneven chasm and pushed the door open.

“There’s a larger bedroom off the dining room,” Cheryl said. “Bathroom’s right there.” She pointed to the right of the kitchen.

He peeked first into the bathroom—nice size with a newly installed, as of about fifteen years ago, perfectly hideous shower. It was more like a large pan on the floor with a drain in it, a disgusting-looking shower curtain on a circular rod attached to the wall. He tilted his head and frowned as he studied the contraption.

As if she could read his mind, she said, “My mother was a very large woman and couldn’t handle the tub, so my dad, who is obviously not very handy with things like this, put in a shower for her. It’s a terrible-looking thing, I know. And it needs a new curtain, but honestly, I never expected anyone to want to look at it. And when you get down to it, I don’t have the money to make things nicer around here. It’s as is.”

“Is there a washer and dryer, by any chance?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. They still work, too. Out back on the porch. It’s not heated out there, but it’s enclosed. And the water heater is only a few years old, so that should make it a while.”

He took a quick look at what one would call the master bedroom. It was really an awful-looking little house that had the potential to look nice—barely big enough for a couple and one child. He could spend some time checking the structure later, but for now it appeared all its ugliness was merely cosmetic. Some elbow grease would make it civilized, but some remodeling talent could make it quaint.

“How much?” he asked her.

She was stunned. “You’re kidding me.”

“I thought maybe I could do a few things around here to make the place presentable if you give me a break on the rent. I’m a builder by trade. You thinking you might sell it someday?”

“I don’t know. I know I’m not interested in living in it—I work in Eureka. But I just found out the house was my responsibility, so…I guess I’ll either rent it, sell it, or let the state take it for nonpayment of taxes.”

“Shew,” he said. “You really do have some thinking to do. Listen, here’s the deal. I’ll pay you some rent and take care of the utilities. If you give me a break on the rent, I’ll see if I can fix it up a little bit. If you decide to sell it and I make you an offer, you’ll deduct my materials and labor from the price. Think about that.”

Her eyes just grew wider. “You can have it for two-fifty a month. Do whatever you want. You can’t make it any worse, even if you’re the worst builder in America.”

“Two hundred,” he said. “That should pay your taxes. Give you time to think. But you have to let me have it for a year, to make it worth my while to do some things to it. And I’m not the worst builder in America.” He grinned at her.

She put out her hand. “Deal.”

“You have some kind of contract?” he asked.

“Nope. Try to be a nice guy about this and if you decide to abandon the place, lock up and let Jack know. Mrs. Sheridan has my number in Eureka.”

“Well, Jesus,” he said, taking off his hat and running his hand over his short hair. “Don’t you want to know my name?”

“Sure,” she said. “What is it?”

“Dan Brady.”

“I’m Cheryl Creighton. Be a good neighbor, will you? I think the last people who lived here were a lot of trouble.”

“And who would that be?”

“Me. Us. My parents and I.”

He chuckled. “Would you like to seal this deal over a drink?”

“No, thanks. I don’t care for a drink. Do you drink a lot?”

“Me? I’ve been known to have a beer or two.”

“Get drunk a lot?” she asked.

He frowned, having no idea what her issue was. Maybe she came from a hard-drinking family and it put her off in a big way. “I get drunk not at all,” he said. “It’s not convenient. But I like a beer sometimes. That going to be a problem?”

“Gee,” she said. “That must be nice.”

“Huh?”

“Get the utilities taken care of right away. Get them in your name. I’ll come back out in a couple of weeks or a month and if you still want to live here, I’ll pick up your rent check and give you an address to mail it to me.” She wiggled a key off her key chain, handed it to him. “If you change your mind, give the key to Jack.”

No first and last months’ rent? No security deposit? he wondered. Then he realized a security deposit on this dump was ridiculous, but you’d think she’d want to get a month’s rent out of him. He pulled out his wallet and peeled off five twenties. “Here,” he said. “That’ll take care of the rest of the month. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything bad to your house. And I work for a guy from town, so I’m not going to steal from you or anything.”

She actually gave a huff of laughter. What could he possibly steal? The forty-year-old stove and refrigerator? “Yeah, good,” she said. “Well, at least you’ll get the ugliest hot shower of your life.”

“Hey, that will be a good thing,” he said.

She gave a curt nod, turned and left. He just stood there a minute, totally perplexed. She was a little messed up from cleaning out this dump of a house, but there was no concealing her basic good looks, trim figure. But there was also no concealing the unhappy person inside.

And then he heard her truck depart from the front of the house. Her business was done here.

BOOK: Paradise Valley
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