Page 36
Story: Sutton and the CEO's Baby
“You have to be Switzerland, Sutton. I am telling you there is no winning when you pick sides.”
I huffed. “I am not picking sides. I am always on Candice’s side.”
His lips twitched. “What if she is wrong?”
“I don’t care,” I retorted. “She’s my best friend. I stand by her.”
Mark pushed a lock of dark hair behind my ear. “She is lucky to have you.”
I shook my head. “No, Mark, I am lucky to have her. She wouldn’t even be going through this heartache if it wasn’t for me. She would never have met Knox or come to Otterville Falls.”
“Just be her friend, but don’t give advice.” He,” he said and kissed my nose. “And the movers asked if there was anything you wanted to be taken to the new house.”
I looked around the old trailer. It had been my home for the majority of my life. There really was nothing of value, and everything that reminded me of who I was. The sound of the fridge humming would always remind me of Mama, searching through it with that worried expression on her face. The chip on the kitchen table from where Earl dropped the old frying pan.
I bit my lip, suddenly feeling a lump of emotion in my throat.
“Hey,” Mark whispered, pulling me closer so that he could whisper in my ear, “we. “We won’t get rid of anything.”
I nodded. “I know. It just feels like the ending of a chapter. I know it’s a good thing. I am excited to live in a haunted house, honest.”
Mark chuckled. “The house isn’t haunted. And besides that, we renovated every last inch of the place. I doubt that there is anything original still left.”
I nodded. “I bet Ms. Bertha Victor likes her new stomping grounds.”
“Who the hell is Ms. Bertha Victor?” Mark pulled back with a hint of unease.
“She came to Otterville Falls as a mail-order bride. The Baker House was a bed and breakfast back then, and it was said that she never made it to the morning. Folks around here call her the Gray Lady.”
Mark scowled. “There is no Gray Lady!”
I shrugged. “Someone needs to keep the soldier company.”
“What soldier?”
I couldn’t help but smile at Mark’s expression. “The soldier sadly doesn’t have a name. But he is often seen at the top of the stairs in his Confederate uniform, watching for the Yanks that would eventually shoot him down at that very spot.”
“Shit, Sutton, you are freaking me out!”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” I teased.
“I don’t,” he said staunchly.
“They aren’t mean ghosts, as far as I know. They might drop marbles or close doors, but nothing more than that.”
Mark shivered. “That is creepy. There is no such thing as ghosts.”
I patted his shoulder. “Of course there isn’t.”
“You are a minx!”
He kissed me hard on the mouth and I was just sinking into him when Candice called out that the movers had arrived.
The next few hours were spent directing the movers and driving over to the new house. I was shocked at how much it had changed from when we last had been through. I felt like I had entered one of those shows on television when they do the before and after.
Everything was light and bright; the ceilings were lifted, and walls removed to create an open floor plan. The kitchen was breathtaking and I literally stopped and just stared for at least five minutes.
“If you don’t like anything, we can change it,” Mark was saying, but I could hardly put together what he meant.
I huffed. “I am not picking sides. I am always on Candice’s side.”
His lips twitched. “What if she is wrong?”
“I don’t care,” I retorted. “She’s my best friend. I stand by her.”
Mark pushed a lock of dark hair behind my ear. “She is lucky to have you.”
I shook my head. “No, Mark, I am lucky to have her. She wouldn’t even be going through this heartache if it wasn’t for me. She would never have met Knox or come to Otterville Falls.”
“Just be her friend, but don’t give advice.” He,” he said and kissed my nose. “And the movers asked if there was anything you wanted to be taken to the new house.”
I looked around the old trailer. It had been my home for the majority of my life. There really was nothing of value, and everything that reminded me of who I was. The sound of the fridge humming would always remind me of Mama, searching through it with that worried expression on her face. The chip on the kitchen table from where Earl dropped the old frying pan.
I bit my lip, suddenly feeling a lump of emotion in my throat.
“Hey,” Mark whispered, pulling me closer so that he could whisper in my ear, “we. “We won’t get rid of anything.”
I nodded. “I know. It just feels like the ending of a chapter. I know it’s a good thing. I am excited to live in a haunted house, honest.”
Mark chuckled. “The house isn’t haunted. And besides that, we renovated every last inch of the place. I doubt that there is anything original still left.”
I nodded. “I bet Ms. Bertha Victor likes her new stomping grounds.”
“Who the hell is Ms. Bertha Victor?” Mark pulled back with a hint of unease.
“She came to Otterville Falls as a mail-order bride. The Baker House was a bed and breakfast back then, and it was said that she never made it to the morning. Folks around here call her the Gray Lady.”
Mark scowled. “There is no Gray Lady!”
I shrugged. “Someone needs to keep the soldier company.”
“What soldier?”
I couldn’t help but smile at Mark’s expression. “The soldier sadly doesn’t have a name. But he is often seen at the top of the stairs in his Confederate uniform, watching for the Yanks that would eventually shoot him down at that very spot.”
“Shit, Sutton, you are freaking me out!”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” I teased.
“I don’t,” he said staunchly.
“They aren’t mean ghosts, as far as I know. They might drop marbles or close doors, but nothing more than that.”
Mark shivered. “That is creepy. There is no such thing as ghosts.”
I patted his shoulder. “Of course there isn’t.”
“You are a minx!”
He kissed me hard on the mouth and I was just sinking into him when Candice called out that the movers had arrived.
The next few hours were spent directing the movers and driving over to the new house. I was shocked at how much it had changed from when we last had been through. I felt like I had entered one of those shows on television when they do the before and after.
Everything was light and bright; the ceilings were lifted, and walls removed to create an open floor plan. The kitchen was breathtaking and I literally stopped and just stared for at least five minutes.
“If you don’t like anything, we can change it,” Mark was saying, but I could hardly put together what he meant.
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