From my WIP…
Hailey was sitting on the edge of the bed when her sister, Sarah, awoke.
“You didn’t oversleep,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
Sarah rubbed her eyes, slowly clearing the metaphorical cobwebs. “Ok,” she said. “So, what’s up?”
Hailey looked serious. “I know you never look at your News app, so I figured I should let you know what happened.”
Sarah panicked. “What? What is it? Is it mom?”
Hailey shook her head. “Mom’s fine. It’s that older man you had me visit… the one with the raccoons.”
“Mr. Ivankov?”
“Yeah,” she said. “His house burned down Tuesday night. No one died. Apparently, he wasn’t at home when it happened.”
Sarah visibly relaxed for a moment and then, “And Fred?” Her ex-boyfriend lived next door to Mr. Ivankov. This is how she knew him. And though Fred claimed to constantly be annoyed by the older man and his hoarding habits, Sarah knew they were close—both in proximity and in relationship.
“No other homes were damaged. Fred should be fine. I just wanted you to hear it from me and not some half-story from someone else.”
Sarah nodded. “I get it. Thank you.” She rubbed her forehead. “That poor man. He must be devastated.”
Hailey clucked her tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. But, Sarah… that house! He was completely careless. All those newspapers? Letting undomesticated animals, cute as they are, roam his house? The gas lanterns? He was asking for it.”
Sarah considered this. There was a definite sadness in the old man. He wasn’t even that old. Sarah had been surprised to find out he was only in his mid-sixties. He looked at least ten years older. “You mean like a death wish?”
Hailey shrugged. “Maybe. Or a fresh start?”
Sarah narrowed her eyebrows. “But he has been in that house since he married, and he adored his wife. Her death left him heartbroken. That’s why he was doing all the hoarding in the first place.”
“Yeah, I don’t need to be right about this, Sarah. I’m just giving you my impression.” She rose to leave. “I know you’re not going to be able to help yourself. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Sarah didn’t bother pretending she didn’t know what her sister meant. Of course, she’d have to check in on Fred and ensure he was ok. He didn’t have anyone else. Who knew how he was feeling right now? “I promise,” she said softly. “And Hailey?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
— — —
She told herself that texting wasn’t enough and that a phone call wasn’t either. A house fire meant showing up, meant being there in person to offer comfort. That’s how she justified driving straight to his house after work. Of course, this did not take into account Manfred’s more general aversion to physical touch nor his complete distaste for people dropping by unannounced. Tears stung her eyes the split second she was honest with herself- she was worried about him, missed him, ached to just be near him.
Curse this vulnerability. She wore every damn thing on her damn sleeve.
She rounded the corner, pulled the car over and immediately saw the remains of Mr. Ivankov’s house. Blackened metal, ashen wood- it was gone, all gone. Sarah’s hand went involuntarily to her mouth in shock. She had not expected it to be so transformed, nor for it to still be smoking. The heat coming off the wreckage made a visible blur at the edges. Sarah gulped down a cry. The sight hurt her heart— the destruction of it, the sheer loss. She knew that he’d be worried about his animals, and she hoped that wherever he was, he was ok.
It took her five minutes to muster up the courage to get out of the car. She had practiced the look on her face, the first thing she’d say, how she’d handle it if he had another woman there. She had tried to anticipate everything. But what she had not foreseen was the crushing knowledge that she was still this far gone. It had been a possibility that floated just beyond arms reach, something Hailey accused her of so ungraciously until just then when she was halfway to Fred’s house. Sarah still wanted Fred. She wanted him fully and completely— wanted to be his girl, his friend, his family, just like she had been before.
She’d chosen her clothes carefully, nothing too bright and nothing that Fred had complimented her on. Ultimately, she went with a fitted black cotton and a denim jacket. But as she walked to his door, she shook her head. He would never notice anyway. His mind was on other things. What had she been thinking?
“Sarah! Goodness, it’s so lovely to see you, dear. I’ve missed you,” said a clearly taken-aback Mr. Ivankov. His arms spread, welcoming her to embrace him.
She stepped to him without a thought. “Oh, Mr. Ivankov! I am so, so sorry about your home. I’ve been thinking of you constantly since I heard. How are you?”
He kissed her temple and pulled her inside. “Come in, come in. I’m fine, child. Shaken up, but fine.”
Sarah was feeling so many things at once: surprise at his being here in Fred’s home, relief that he was okay, awkwardness at being in this house again, and nervousness at seeing Fred again. There was no way she could mask all of that. She decided maybe it was best not to try. “Forgive me, but what are you doing here? I mean…”
He waved his hand in acknowledgment and smiled. “I know, I know. Manfred is not my biggest fan. But I had nowhere to go. I can’t seem to reach Wendy, nor Geoffrey, though I’ve been trying for days.”
“Oh, that’s awful.”
Mr. Ivankov shrugged. “They take off sometimes. I’m not too concerned. It’s just that I could use their help.”
They walked through the small hallway to the living room and sat down. Sarah wondered where Fred was. “Of course, you could. Why didn’t you call me?”
He cleared his throat and looked away. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me— wasn’t sure if I’d just be a reminder of your old life.”
Sarah wrung her hands and leaned forward. “I should have visited you. I’m sorry for staying away.”
“Well, you’re here now,” he said softly. “Can I get you some tea? Manfred is out, but I know he won’t mind.”
So he wasn’t home after all. Sarah tried to hide her disappointment, but then her stomach was also turning at the idea that Mr. Ivankov was playing a role that only months ago she would have been playing. It would have been her opening the door and offering tea. Things were so confusing and backward.
Sarah popped a candy in her mouth and reminded herself that even if she couldn’t see him today, he was alive, and he was well, and that was something to be grateful for.
Curl up with the Sweetwoods…
Days are getting colder and shorter here in Canada. It’s the perfect time to get cozy with a fun, suspenseful, romantic read.
Order your copy of The Sweetwood Series HERE.
—
Sweetwood Secret
When her younger brother goes missing, New York City journalist Holly Blake is beckoned back to the small Georgia town of her youth.
After losing both her parents the previous year, she is desperate to find Lucas—the only family she has left.
But searching for her brother means two things Holly had not bargained for: reuniting with her ex-fiancé Max, the local sheriff, and following a trail that leads straight into the tangled web of lies and dangerous games played by one of the richest families in the state—the Sweetwoods.
Sweetwood Scandal
Following his ex-girlfriend to her hometown of Wellington, New Zealand, Jacob Sweetwood is on the hunt for the thousands of dollars and the antique ruby ring Ava-Rose has stolen.
After weeks of dead-ends and a puzzling meeting with Ava-Rose’s father, Jacob heads back to Blairsville, Georgia. There, he finds comfort and solace in the company of Nancy Cooper—the straight-talking, beautiful owner of The Fox and Fig.
Soon, though, Ava-Rose is back in Blairsville with no money, a story that is difficult to believe, and an undeniable tie to a scandal that threatens to upend the entire Sweetwood Syrups empire.
Sweetwood Christmas
When Zena Sweetwood is asked by her uncle Octavius to help him reason with his wife, her beloved aunt Adora, who wants suddenly wants a divorce, Zena is certain this will be an easy fix. They’re so in love, after all.
Soon though, it becomes clear that Adora has her mind made up—having hired slick Manhattan attorney Gabe Da Silva to stay at their north Georgia mansion to draw up the papers.
As Gabe and Zena embark on their separate assignments under the same roof, they are often drawn together. And the more they uncover, the more they are convinced Adora is hiding something. Will the two be able to bring the truth to light in time to reunite the elder Sweetwoods and have a happy holiday ending of their own?
