And Dan Brady was glad he’d made the decision to come here. He’d given it a lot of thought. Indeed, there’d been lots of time to think about where he’d settle while he cooled his heels in Folsom Prison. He was a low-profile prisoner—just a pot grower. He didn’t even take a hit for dealing—he’d only been caught growing, but the assumption was, he grew it to sell it. It was the pedophiles and rapists who were in constant danger from other inmates. And there was fighting among the gangs. Dan just did his time quietly. And thought.
It was a logical decision for him. Virgin River was a quiet, decent town. There were people there he thought highly of—Mel and Jack being two. Preacher was an oddball, but good-hearted and helpful. Paul Haggerty was a stand-up boss. Of course, he’d had no expectation that they’d come to respect him, but to his amazement, they were perfectly friendly toward him. And the job with Haggerty—pure luck. If he’d been Haggerty, he’d never have hired himself. But it was working out great. There was plenty of overtime when he wanted it. Haggerty paid a fair wage and the benefits were good. The men he worked with were quality crews. Haggerty had high standards.
It didn’t leave him much spare time, but what was he going to do with spare time? He’d always been a loner, something that intensified when he was growing pot. It was a habit he was slowly trying to break—it made sense for him to come out of the darkness and have people in his life, like he used to. They might not trust him, but he trusted them. They were transparent, to the last one—not real complicated, living authentic lives, invested in their families and friends, protective of their own, their town. So he had begun to slowly enter their world. He picked up a packed lunch from the bar every morning at about 6:00 a.m.—Preacher made it the night before. Then a couple of nights a week he’d take dinner and a beer there and catch up on local gossip and national news on the bar’s TV. The rest of the time he either worked or tinkered around the rental house.
His father taught him something real useful when it came to fixer-uppers—always do what shows the most first. So the first thing Dan did was replace the window glass in that one broken window and reinforce and repair the front porch. Took him a day and a half. Then he hired some of Haggerty’s boys to scrape and paint the house while he painted the porch—he wasn’t going up on those ladders. Dan wasn’t about to invest in a new roof if he didn’t own the place, but he did have the existing roof repaired so he wouldn’t drown in the next big rain.
Next, he pulled weeds, threw down some topsoil, tore out the cracked sidewalk with a crowbar and shovel and put down patio stones instead. He planted flowers along the front of the house. A little daily sprinkling and some spring sunshine and he had a green yard bordered by colorful flowers and a pretty little yellow house, trimmed in white.
Once he was inside, which was about three weeks into his tenancy, he could work evenings when he felt like it. He tackled the easiest and most visible stuff first. He washed the nicotine off the living-room and dining-room walls, patched and painted. He borrowed a big industrial floor sander from Paul and turned the living/dining area into a beautiful L-shaped room in about ten days with paint, stain, varnish and floor wax. He scrubbed up the stone fireplace and it was looking good. Then he scrubbed down and painted the bedroom—it took only a few evenings. The only furniture he had was a bed and a small table with two chairs that he left in the dining room while he tore apart the kitchen.
He’d been in Virgin River six weeks, in his little rental for just over four, and he was really pleased with what a minimal amount of money and some work could do. The kitchen was going to take more than a couple of weeks, and would be a lot more expensive than the work he’d done so far, but he was making good money and he’d take it slow. He scraped off the old, damaged linoleum floor and removed all the cupboards, since some were already missing doors and they were too old to be a standard size. He ripped out the counters, keeping just the sink and moving the appliances away from the walls.
He got rid of the old, peeling, yellowed wallpaper, textured the kitchen walls and was painting away a Sunday afternoon when there was a knock at the door. He went, roller in hand, and opened the door. “Well,” he said, grinning. “My landlady. Funny, I wondered if I’d ever see you again.”
“The house,” she said. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were huge. “Good God!”
“Oh, is it okay?” he asked her.
She shook her head and he thought, for a second, she was going to say he’d gone too far and she hated it.
“I never even imagined it could look like this. It’s incredible. When I pulled up, I thought I had the wrong house.”
He grinned at her. “I should probably stop. If I do a good enough job, you’re going to want it back and I’ll be in the camper shell again.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” she said. “I’m never living here again.”
“I’d given up on you. I asked Jack if he thought you’d be back and he said he didn’t really know. He thought there was a chance you’d just let the house go. Can’t imagine why you’d do that….”
“No, you probably couldn’t. Chalk it up to some bad memories.”
“Must have been horrific,” he said, and she merely nodded.
The house wasn’t the only thing that looked different. She was looking pretty good herself. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been hauling trash all day, but even after that, she had strong looks that held up. He put her at somewhere around thirty. Maybe five foot six or so. Slender but not skinny; long legs, good hips. She had an unfussy style—hair that curled under just above her shoulders, makeup he could see her freckles through.
“I’m owing you rent,” he said, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. But she just walked past him into the kitchen.
“Holy cow,” she said. “Stripped bare.”
“Uh, yeah. This is going to take a while because of the cost. Couple of months, at least, depending on things like overtime. It needs everything. I’m doing the floor and walls first, cupboards and counters next, and appliances one at a time. This is also going to be more expensive than some grass seed and paint. Lots more. I hope you’re planning to let me stay here cheap for a while to make up for the investment.”
“Sure. I don’t want it.”
“I don’t even know where to start with that bathroom. Nice big room, but it’s a nightmare the way that shower’s put in. Plus, I’m going to have to give up the bathroom during the remodel, and after living in a camper shell for a while, that shower, ugly as it is, comes in real handy. Especially when you work construction all day, then again at home all night.” She didn’t say anything, just looked around in wonder. “That bathroom could use a tub and shower, and new toilet.” Still, silence. “I’m not taking on that back room till I’ve been here a year or more. Fact is, it needs to be ripped off and rebuilt. Hey—we in the same solar system here?”
“Oh. Sorry. Gee…Um, what’s your name again?”
He sighed. “Dan Brady.”
“Sorry, Dan. I’m just blown away by how good the place looks. And in a little over a month. You must have worked yourself to death.”
“Nah. A little after work, a little on the weekends.” He still held his wallet in his hand. “I owe you like a month and a half rent. Cash all right?”
“Sure. Yeah.”
“Next time the rent’s due, I can drop it off in Eureka when I’m over there, if you’ll give me an address. I get around that way at least once a month, buying stuff like paint, caulk, repair stuff. Maybe we could grab a quick bite, talk more about what I’m thinking for the house, get to know each other a little, you know….”
She tilted her head. “You don’t know about me, do you?”
“Ah—you lived here. Your mother died and your father is with a brother? That right? You work and live in Eureka, right?”
“I’m an alcoholic,” she said, straightening almost proudly.
“Ah. Expensive date or enjoying sobriety?”
“Over seven months sober. I know the exact number of days. Hours.”
“Good for you. So, if it doesn’t freak you out for me to know where you live and if you’d like a free meal—”
“I don’t get involved with men.”
He looked stricken for a second. “Oh God, I’m sorry, Cheryl. I didn’t mean to mislead you—I wasn’t expecting to get involved. I just thought rent money, early dinner and someplace casual. Listen—”
She started to laugh to herself, softly, shaking her head. “Paranoid,” she said quietly. “Goes with the territory. Listen, Dan—I wasn’t an ordinary drunk. I was a very drunk drunk. Did a lot of regretful things. That’s why I don’t come back here, where it all started, where I was at my worst. Ask anyone in town—they can all tell you about Cheryl, the town drunk. You don’t want to have dinner with me.”
He gave her a small smile. He stuck out his hand. “Cheryl, meet Dan—ex-con.”
She didn’t take the hand, but lifted her eyebrows slightly. “For…?”
“Growing weed.”
“Aw, Jesus, you a druggie?”
He shook his head. “Never used dope, I just grew it for the money. I was in a tight spot, a family member needed help, I couldn’t think of anything else and I’d met a guy way back who knew someone who knew someone who could set me up and I could make a bunch of money fast. And I got caught and did time.” He grinned. “Ask anyone around here about Dan, the grower.”
“What are you doing here? In Virgin River? Fixing up an old shit hole like this?”
“I’m getting my life back. What are you doing?”
“Okay, okay, touché.” She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. “Here’s my phone number. Call a week ahead and clear a time with me. And I don’t know about a meal—I’ll have to think about that.”
“Good,” he said. “You think. I’ll paint. And here’s three hundred dollars to catch you up. Though now the place is looking better, you probably want a friggin’ security deposit, huh?”
“Doesn’t anything bother you?”
“Anymore? Not so much.”
“I know,” she said softly, nervously. “I’m going to the bedroom,” she said.
She had no idea how happy it made him when she said that—
the
bedroom, not
my
bedroom. Because night after night they lay there together, kissing, touching, fondling, not having sex but having everything else. For Abby, as huge and uncomfortable as she was these days, sex was way down on her list of things she needed. She just took comfort in the touching, the affection, nearness. For Cameron, it was a little more than that. His emotions were definitely sexually charged. He found it crazy and beautiful that he wanted her just as much round with the babies as he had the night they’d conceived, when she was so small, so svelte. Of course he couldn’t keep that a secret from Abby, nor did he try to. She even offered to help with that. “Let me, Cameron,” she said, touching him intimately. “There’s no reason you have to be frustrated.” And he had said, “I’m waiting for you, and that’s the way I want it. After these little ones are born and you’re recovered, we’re going to rock the walls of this cabin.”
He couldn’t remember a time he’d been happier. And it was in that frame of mind he placed the call to his parents.
“Mom?” he said. “How are you?”
“Great, Cam. How’s the little town?”
“Perfect. Pour a glass of wine, Mom. I have something important to tell you.”
“Really?” she said. “Go ahead….”
“Doctor’s orders,” he said. “Come on now, I have a surprise. A very nice one.”
“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I hope you found yourself a wonderful woman in that little town….”
He paused, hoping she’d taken his advice about the wine. “Well, as a matter of fact…”
“Really? Who is she?”
“Actually, I found her last year. Last fall, in Grants Pass.”
“You never said anything,” she said.
“I didn’t think there was much to say. I really fell for her, but she had complications in her life. When I met her, she’d been separated from her husband for almost a year and they were getting divorced. It wasn’t too soon for her to think about another man, but it was too soon for her to get involved. At that time, at least. She had to get her legal affairs straightened out. So, as much as I hated it, we lost touch for a while. We connected again in January, her divorce final. Her name is Abby and, Mom, she’s wonderful. Beautiful and sweet and perfect.”
“Aw, Cam, I’m so happy for you. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Lots of reasons, one being that I wanted some time with her first. And of course, Abby having been married once, she wanted to take it slow. You understand.”
“I suppose. Where does she live, Cam? When can I meet her?”
“She lives here now, Mom. With me. And it won’t be long before you can meet her, but there’s one more thing. During that short time we knew each other in Grants Pass, we had a little…ah, a little…blessing, that’s what it was. We had a blessing. Well, actually a couple of blessings. On the way. Soon.” Dead silence answered him. “It came as a shock to poor Abby at first, and I admit—I was pretty surprised, but we’re very happy about it. Happy and excited.” Silence. It stretched out. “Mom? Twins. We know one is a boy, but the other one is hiding.” Again, a vacuum.
Then he heard his mother shriek, “Edward! Come here! Cameron got some girl pregnant!”
“Mom! Just have a little sip of that wine!”
“I think it’s going to take something a little stronger! Twins? You got some girl pregnant with
twins?
”
He couldn’t help it—he laughed. “Mom,” he said. “She’s not some girl—she’s not a girl. Her name is Abby and she’s thirty-one.”
“Cameron, how in the
world
—”
“Now, Mother, I’m not going to explain. You’ll just have to trust me, I’ve never been careless and neither has Abby. So—here’s the deal. She’s probably going to go early, though the babies are due the second of July. Anytime, Mom. Abby wants to have her mother come as soon as they’re delivered, so I hope you can be a little patient. Twins is a pretty big—”
“Cameron! Are you
married?
”
“Not yet, Mom. Even though we’re in this together, completely, we just haven’t had time to get married. That will come—we’ll take care of the details. No point in rushing it now. Besides, we’re not going to be fooling anybody, including the great-grandmothers and great-aunt Jean, by rushing into it right now. They’re nearly here.”
“Dear God in heaven,” his mother said. And in the background he could hear his father, Ed, saying, “What? What? What?”
“I’ll call you the moment they’re born. Tomorrow, when I’m at the clinic, I’ll get Mel to take a picture of me and Abby and e-mail it to you. By then you will have calmed down.”
“But, Cameron,” she said, “you haven’t given me time to knit anything!”
He laughed again. “Well, get started. Abby’s really ready to unload. She just has to make it a couple more weeks to be completely safe.”
“Oh, dear God in heaven,” she muttered. “You couldn’t have told me any sooner?”
“There were details to work out, Mother. This is how it is and you’re going to be gracious. Abby is understandably stressed.”
“Of course I’ll be gracious! Just answer me one question, and be honest with me, because I always know when you’re lying. Do you love this wo—Abby?”
He smiled. “Mom, I loved her the second I saw her. And I love her more every day.” He heard his answer in his mother’s heavy, satisfied sigh. “There now, go take care of Dad before he goes crazy, and I’ll e-mail a picture tomorrow sometime. Mom, congratulations. I love you.”
He hung up and got himself a beer out of the refrigerator. He popped the top and went to the bedroom, leaning in the open doorway. Abby was sitting cross-legged, her iPod earphones plugged into her ears, deep breathing with her eyes closed. He just watched, smiling at the sight. She was a vision.
She opened her eyes, took the plugs out of her ears and looked at him expectantly.
“She was very surprised,” he said. “And a little pissed off that I didn’t give her more time to knit something.”
“Oh my,” she said, taking a breath. “Did you tell her it was an accident?”
“No. I told her it was a blessing. And the best thing that ever happened to me.”