Lenora Worth - Hometown Princess

The room was long and wide and filled with windows that had once looked out over a vast backyard that ran all the way down to the nearby river. That backyard had been sold in increments as First Street commercialism had continued to grow right into the old suburban Victorian neighborhood built along the Chattahoochee River.

Duncan House was one of the few remaining original homes built here at the turn of the century. Most of them has been razed or renovated beyond recognition to make way for progress. And while Cari was thankful that her small town was now a tourist mecca, she sure wanted to bring back some of that Victorian charm that had once colored the place.

“Starting with Duncan House.”

Maybe she’d update the kitchen to make it functional for events and turn it into a nice sitting area for customers. She could bring over some cookies and pies from Jolena’s Diner and serve them with coffee and tea from the old antique sideboard shoved up against one wall. Just like her mother used to do when they’d invited company over for Sunday dinner.

“And where will I get the money for that?” she wondered, thinking she only had a few thousand in her bank account and her one remaining charge card was for emergencies only. Getting a bank loan scared her silly since her credit history wasn’t the best, but she had to try.

Determination and the financial budget she’d worked so hard to create and maintain over the past couple of years driving her on, Cari put away her bag and decided, now that she’d cleared and cleaned the downstairs open area, she’d give the bathroom one more thorough cleaning. She could then tackle the upstairs again, just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

First on the list would be to make sure the stairs were safe. They’d seemed a bit wobbly yesterday when she’d ventured up to see her turret room. That was another thing on the list—the turret room was intact but dirty and waterlogged from broken windowpanes. The pigeons seemed to love to roost there, too.

“Too bad about that.”

She remembered the room when it had been all bright whites and feminine blues and yellows, with a tiny little table and chairs and a real porcelain tea set where she’d entertained her dolls and, sometimes, her father and mother, too. Cari had clopped around in a big hat and a pair of feather-encrusted plastic high heels, a princess content in her own skin. And very innocent and naive in her security.

“Too bad about that, too.”

But she intended to restore the room in those same sky-blues and sunshine-yellows, using a hydrangea theme since the old bushes out front were still intact and blooming to beat the band.

Hearing the front door squeak open, she wondered if the contractor was here already.

“Ye-hoo? Anybody home?”

Doreen. Cari gave herself a mental shake. She wouldn’t let that woman get to her. Taking a deep, calming breath, she called out, “I’m in the kitchen.”

Doreen came through the arched doorway to stop just inside the empty kitchen, her gaze sweeping the room with distaste. “I just had to come and see for myself if all the rumors I kept hearing were true.” Patting her bright red teased hair, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious, Cari.”

Cari prayed for patience. Putting her hands down beside her jeans so she wouldn’t use them to do physical harm, she lifted her eyebrows. “Serious? Oh, you mean about reopening Duncan House? Yes, I’m very serious.”

Doreen dropped her designer bag on the table. “I heard about it at the chamber of commerce meeting the other night and I just couldn’t believe my ears. I mean, I knew your father left this old place to you—why, I’ll never understand. But honestly, I expected you to call me, begging me to list it, just to get it off your hands.”

Cari couldn’t believe the audacity of this vile woman. “Why would I do that, Doreen? This is all I have left. You managed to get the rest.”

Score one for Cari. The woman bristled to the point of turning as red as her dyed hair. “Your father left everything to me because he knew you’d just squander it away. I mean, c’mon, now, Cari, you don’t actually think you can make a go of things in this old building, do you? The last tenant found out pretty quick that this place is way too far gone to run a business in. The utilities alone are over the top.”

“From what I heard, you charged the last tenant too much rent and made too many demands for him to keep his photography and frame business going. I heard he moved to a new strip mall out on I-75 and he’s doing great.”

“That obnoxious man—I was glad to be rid of him. Always calling wanting something fixed, something changed. Impossible to deal with.”

Doreen wouldn’t give an inch, Cari knew. So she didn’t try to argue with the woman. “I’m here to stay, Doreen. Get used to it.”

Doreen grabbed her purse. “We’ll see how long you last. You know, if you get desperate and want to sell, I’ll cut you a deal. I’d planned to have this place torn down and if we both play our cards right, that can still happen. I’ll be glad to take it off your hands and for a fair price, too.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Cari asked. “Especially since you didn’t take care of it when you were the landlord?”

“I had other priorities,” Doreen shot back, the crow’s feet around her eyes lined with too much concealer. “But now that your father is gone, well, I’m being a bit more aggressive in buying up more property.” She swept the room with a harsh glance. “This should have stayed mine anyway. But I’m willing to buy it back and then maybe you can get out from under that mound of debt you brought back with you. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“I won’t,” Cari said, seething underneath her calm. Buy it back? Over her dead body.

She waited until the annoying clicking sound of Doreen’s pumps had left the building then turned and ran out the back door to catch her breath. Leaning over the old railing, Cari felt sick to her stomach. Feeling tears of frustration she didn’t dare shed, she held her head down and stared at an efficient ant trail moving steadily along the crack in the steps.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

She looked up to find Rick standing there staring at her, his smile friendly, his eyes calm.

Cari inhaled a deep breath. “You mean out in the alley, while I’m having a hissy fit?”

“Is that what you’re having? I would have never guessed.” Even though he was smiling, she appreciated the concern in his eyes.

Cari shook her hair off her face. “The wicked stepmother just paid me a friendly visit. Offered to buy me out. Can you believe that after the way she let this place get all run-down?”

Rick could tell she was hanging on by a thread, so he decided to keep things light. “Interesting that she’d even suggest that. I saw her taking off on her broom a couple of minutes ago so you’re safe for now. If it’s any consolation, she looked madder than a wet hornet.”

“That does make me feel better,” Cari replied, her eyes brightening. “I shouldn’t let her get to me, but she does. She always has.”

He sat down on the steps. “Got a minute to chat?”

She looked back inside. “Sure, none of this is going anywhere soon. And if I don’t get a bank loan, it’s not going to change anytime soon.”

Rick understood she had a lot on her mind, but he needed to clarify something. “Look, Cari, about earlier at the diner when you asked me why I came back here?”

She put a hand over her eyes. “Oh, you mean when I was being completely nosy and out of line?”

“You weren’t out of line. Nosy, yes, but out of line, no. It’s just that I don’t like to talk about my reasons for coming home. It’s…complicated.”