Cheryl Harper - The Bluebird Bet

“Nah, I remembered why I hadn’t taken on any DIY projects in twenty-plus years.” His father opened the refrigerator door to show the good doctor that it was fully functional.

When Elaine glanced at him for help, Dean had to shrug his shoulders. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him, either, but he’d had some time for the state of the kitchen to sink in.

“Why is that, Mr. Collins?” She tilted her head to the side as if she was so very curious about why anyone would leave a kitchen torn up like this one. It was a valid question.

“I hate DIY projects.” His father grimaced. “That’s why I didn’t do them when Martha was alive and why I had no problem letting everything ride after she died. Eventually, even the regulars started staying at the chain hotel in Lawrence.” He toed the peeling linoleum. “I purely hate construction of any kind. Been running the place so long, it was nice to have a vacation. All that money we saved for someday, when we could retire to see the world, kept the lights on. And I’d rather fish. So I did.”

“Because you could,” Dean added. “I don’t blame you a bit. And you should say that Mom wouldn’t let you tackle any home improvements.”

Then he leaned closer to the doctor. “Very bad for his blood pressure and hers, if I recall correctly.” He was irritated she didn’t at least smile in return. He hadn’t spent a lot of time charming women lately, but surely he hadn’t completely lost his touch. If she liked him, maybe she’d back off, drop her offer.

Her small frown was cuter than it should be. Dr. Elaine Watson was obviously conscientious if a mention of his dad’s blood pressure could concern her even on her days off.

“Do you still have the cabinets?” she asked as she turned away from Dean. “Maybe I could get someone to put them back in.” The look she shot him suggested that maybe he should have already taken care of it. Dean considered his father and wondered if there was more to the story than he knew. Why was she giving him a glare that said, “Why aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“Hey, I’m not all that handy myself,” Dean said with a laugh. “That must be genetic, but we could hire someone to put the cabinets in. I’m sure they’re exactly what I need when I open the Tall Pines Fish Camp.”

“Fish camp?” Elaine wrinkled her nose as if she could already pick up a whiff of lake water and fish scales. “What a waste of this space.”

Annoyed again, Dean sent a pointed look around the gutted kitchen. “Or maybe exactly the right solution. Fishermen don’t need granite countertops. I could have this place up and running in no time.”

Elaine’s snort stopped him in his tracks. His father tried to hide a grin behind a cough. “Did I say something funny?”

“I’m sure they’re going to love the antiques in the front room and the morning-glory wallpaper that covers your entry.”

Morning glories. Finally! He’d been racking his brain to try to remember what the blue flowers were. His mother had loved them and babied a couple of vines in her garden. He wondered if they’d survived the neglect.

Dean was determined to ignore the doctor’s very good point. He would have to get a bigger television and some comfortable chairs. If he recalled correctly, most of the furniture in the front room looked like reproductions from an era when people were smaller and chair legs could be much fussier.

“Maybe the kitchen would work for your fish camp,” she said with a grimace, “but I bet I could open before you would.”

“Really.” He didn’t believe her for a minute. She was a doctor. He doubted she’d ever swung a hammer in her life. He was unemployed, with all the time in the world. Demolition might be his only contribution, but he wasn’t afraid of hard physical work. There was no question as to who would win this race.

“When I want something badly, I don’t waste time. You’d be shocked how quickly I could get this building restored and open for business.” One corner of her mouth turned up, and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was the fire of determination in her eyes. “Bet on it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have to. This is my home. My father’s already promised to let me give it a shot. I’m going to make my changes on my own timeline. You lose.”

Her lips tightened, and she closed her eyes for two seconds. “Of course. You’re right. I’d forgotten in the excitement of seeing the Bluebird.” She stepped back. “Thank you for the tour, Mr. Collins.” She held out her hand. Dean reluctantly shook it. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Then she smiled at his father. “When this fails, Mr. Collins, please give me a shot. As long as the building’s still standing, I’m interested in having my chance.”

Dean held up one hand. “ When it fails?”

“Of course, I should have said if ,” Elaine replied, but the look on her face didn’t seem to match her words. She wasn’t going to back down.

“Explain to me why I’m going to fail,” Dean answered.

“Well, one look at you says you’re not big on...planning ahead.” Her frosty gaze might have raised goose bumps if it hadn’t been a lovely summer day. “A renovation like this requires planning, marketing, new staff. You’re going to need money. Do you even have a business plan?”

Her doubts were clear. The fact was he didn’t have a plan. But he’d need one. He had some savings, but getting his camp set up would take a lot of cash. A new marina wouldn’t be cheap. Mortgaging his home to finance a gamble without a detailed schedule and some consideration of how he might cover the payments was crazy. His confidence took a hit, but the only way to deal with a situation like this was to pretend everything was under control.

Convincing his dad he could handle the details was critical.

“And you’re interested in having your chance for what? To move into an inn with eight guest rooms...all by yourself.” He didn’t have to ask about a husband or kids. No ring. No doubt she was focusing on her career. “Kind of a big house for a single woman. All alone. Out here by yourself with the wildlife.”

Elaine opened her mouth and then closed it. She raised one finger. “I’m only going to say this because...” Her lips tightened to swallow whatever it was she planned to add. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”

She headed for the entryway. “Mr. Collins, I hope this works out, for your sake.”

“Everybody just...wait.” His father’s voice was loud, and Dean could hear the anger bubbling under the surface. He wasn’t sure Elaine was going to stop, but she jerked to a halt next to the door.

“Before this goes too far, I’ve got something to say.” His dad narrowed his eyes, and Dean got the impression that he’d better keep his mouth zipped until his dad was done.

“Dean, you’re my son. I want you to have this place if it will...I don’t know, make you happy. But,” he said as he held up a hand, “this woman saved my life. And she loves the place.”

“Saved your life?” Dean said as he rubbed his forehead. “What does that mean?”

“I only did my job,” Elaine said and crossed her arms. “Any other doctor would have done the same.”

“Somebody tell me what we’re talking about.” Dean propped his hands on his hips. “Now.”

The sudden tightness in his chest made it hard to breathe.

Elaine’s eyebrows rose, and Dean got the impression there was only one thing she was interested in telling him, and that was exactly where to get off.

“I went into the emergency clinic with chest pains. That’s all. I’m fine.” His father tried a reassuring smile, but it looked so wrong on him that Dean said, “No way. You didn’t tell me any of this. When?” He turned to the doctor because he was certain he stood a better chance of getting a straight answer from her.