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Page 12 of Against All Odds (Ember Falls #3)

eight

Violet

“ V iolet Stewart, is that you?”

I place the box of cereal back on the shelf and turn. I smile, instantly recognizing the woman before me. “Mrs. Anderson.”

“Hello, dear, it is you. Miles said you were back in town, but I hadn’t run into you.”

“I’m sorry, it’s been a hectic few weeks.”

She steps closer, shaking her head. “Don’t you apologize. How are you settling in?”

“Good, it’s been a ... culture shock,” I say with a laugh.

I’ve absolutely loved being back in town. My students, the other teachers, my friends, and everyone have been wonderful, but I forgot just how different it is being in the mountains.

In Ember Falls there are limited food and entertainment options. The closest movie theater is thirty minutes away. We don’t have a major grocery store, and while the corner mart does have some stuff, it doesn’t have my favorite things.

Besides, when I get home from work, I typically crash. I’m so damn tired after being on my feet and dealing with teenagers.

“I’m absolutely sure of that,” Mrs. Anderson agrees on a laugh. “You were in California, where I’m sure everything was at your fingertips.”

“Yes, that part was nice. I would absolutely love to find a makeup store close.”

Her shoulders shake with her giggle. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, but you can at least get most things delivered.”

I used to get four-hour delivery online. Now it’s four days. “I’m learning to plan a little further ahead.”

She nods. “That is definitely helpful. So, tell me, how are your parents?”

I haven’t really spoken to them since my life went to shit. I did get an email from my mother asking if the news article her friend sent her was true, so I guess that’s something.

“They’re good. They’re on an expedition in South America.” At least the last I heard. In her email she didn’t say anything other than they were hoping to have a call with me soon.

Her knowing eyes narrow just slightly. “They didn’t come home when they heard about your ... situation?”

I shake my head. “You know they don’t do that. It’s fine, though.”

It’s really not. It’s just never going to change. My parents aren’t bad. They just don’t know how to put people before their work. I’ve learned how to deal with it my entire life and expect nothing from anyone.

That was the mistake I made with Dylan. I trusted him, believed that he would put me—us—first.

There was only one person who truly did that, and I threw him away.

“Well, I would love it if you wanted to come visit. Do you still bake?”

“I do.” I smile, remembering that Donna and my grandmother always liked to bake. Donna had a bakery for a while when I was a kid.

“I miss your grandmother. She was my baking buddy.”

“I miss her too.”

“I won’t keep you,” Mrs. Anderson says with a hint of sadness. “I need to get home before Eloise brings the kids over.”

Eloise is Miles’s twin sister, and we never really hung out. She had her own friends, who were the cool kids, and they didn’t like us. Eloise was never mean to any of us—she just didn’t want to spend time with us.

“Eloise has kids?” I ask, surprised. She never seemed as though she liked kids—or people.

Donna smiles. “She does. She has a six-year-old boy and just gave birth to a little girl. She actually married one of Miles’s best friends from the military.”

“Wow.”

“Isn’t it funny how life doesn’t ever go the way we think? However, I think that things work out exactly how they’re supposed to. Don’t you agree?” she asks with a warm smile.

I would love to argue that my life is absolutely not working out the way it was supposed to. Having your marriage end on television isn’t really part of the plan. Still, she appears to believe in that, so I just force myself to nod.

She pats my arm. “It was great to see you. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Great seeing you too.”

I finish my shopping and start my drive home. My phone rings and I see it’s my lawyer. I hope she’s calling to give me the good news that Dylan signed the paperwork. It’s been three and a half weeks since I left, and I was hoping for an expedient divorce.

I should’ve known that Dylan would never do anything to make my life easier.

“Hi, Gail,” I say as I answer her call.

“Hey, Violet, I just wanted to let you know that all of the paperwork is finalized. It just needs to go before the judge,” my lawyer explains.

“He signed it?”

“He did. It was delivered back to me this morning.”

Maybe some things are working out the way they were supposed to. At least I can put this behind me.

“I really wish you would’ve pushed for more financial compensation.”

She and everyone else.

“I just wanted it to be over. I don’t care about the money.”

Dylan agreed to my terms that I would get half of whatever assets we have, which is what the judge would’ve awarded anyway, and I waived spousal support. I really don’t want anything from him except to be out of my damn life.

“I’ll let you know when it’s finalized, but for all intents and purposes, you’re divorced.”

“How long does it usually take to be official?” I ask.

“At least thirty days. They allow time for either party to make changes and renegotiate. If you do decide you want to amend anything, you can, but it would just delay things.”

“There won’t be any changes. Thanks for all your help.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve requested the settlement be paid at the time of finalization,” she says before hanging up.

It’ll be nice when I get some money so I can buy some things for the house. Three days ago, a new stove, refrigerator, and dishwasher were delivered. I couldn’t handle the nonfunctioning appliances.

I spent last week painting the rest of the bedrooms and bathrooms, on my own I might add. Which I am pretty damn proud of. I didn’t even need to make six runs to the store either.

I have a few other small upgrades I’d like to make, but my lawyer advised me not to use any of our joint accounts, as it could be seen in a poor light, so I used part of my inheritance. Although I really don’t like touching it, since there’s not much to it, and I’d like to have an emergency fund.

I pull down my driveway and my jaw drops.

What the hell?

There’s a sealed mattress leaning against my door. I open my car door, thoroughly confused. I didn’t order one.

At least I don’t remember doing it.

Maybe I did in the middle of the night ...

No, I wouldn’t because I didn’t want to spend the money on one right now. That was one of the things I planned to purchase once I get money from Dylan, because sleeping on that mattress is absolutely going to be the death of me. The springs and lumps are terrible.

I climb the steps, incredibly confused, and there’s a piece of paper taped to it.

Vi,

Two things, first, here is a list of people you need to keep in case of any further housing mishaps, which seems to be your thing.

Electrician: James Constantino 1-888-ELE-TRIC (don’t ask, just go with it)

Tree removal: Justin, he’s a bit of an idiot, but the nicest guy. Tell him you know me. 1-888-555-TREE (look, the town people like to be obvious)

Snow: Call me. I have a plow and I’m not afraid to use it.

The second thing is:

No one should sleep on an uncomfortable bed. Call me when you’re home and I’ll move it in for you and no, this is not on my list of things I do, just for you.

E

What? Why?

He bought me a bed? I didn’t even complain about it, did I?

I think I passively mentioned that the bed was uncomfortable when he helped me paint, but that was it. I grab my phone and dial his number.

“Hey, are you home?”

I blink, still trying to get my thoughts right. “I am, but what? You bought me a mattress?”

“I had an extra one in the upstairs room. I planned to make it into a guest room, but I ended up turning it into a movie room. A bed didn’t make much sense.”

None of this makes sense. “Everett, I can’t accept this ...”

“What? You need a new mattress. You said yours was uncomfortable. I’ll be there in three minutes and I’ll bring it in for you.”

He hangs up and I just keep looking at the mattress.

He did this for me?

I’m so unaccustomed to anyone just doing something like this that I can’t even process it. I can feel the moisture welling behind my eyes. This is so sweet.

So unexpected.

He continues to surprise me at every turn. Helping me with painting, the dinner, the almost kiss, and now this ...

Everett walks up the steps with a smile. “Hey.”

My heart is pounding as I look at him. “I don’t know what to say,” I confess.

“How about, Let me get the door ?”

I laugh and shake my head. “That’s one option, but you didn’t need to do this.”

“Is the mattress you’re sleeping on comfortable?”

“No, but . . .”

“But what? You need a new bed, I have a mattress, I want to give you this. Think of it as a housewarming gift.”

I force myself to take a deep breath. “And it’s incredibly sweet. I really appreciate it. I just feel like it’s too much.”

He shrugs and walks forward. “It’s not.”

But it is. “I get paid this week, if you let me know how much it is.”

“I didn’t bring it over here to sell it to you.” Everett looks slightly offended.

“I know that, but . . .”

I don’t know how to accept this. I know how much a mattress costs.

It’s why I’ve held off a little bit, because the other things in the house were more pressing.

You would think that considering who I’m married to that money wouldn’t be an issue, but when you haven’t worked in four years, it changes your personal financial situation.

However, I’ll pull more from my inheritance to cover this.

Everett huffs a laugh. “No, I don’t want your money. Now can you get the door for me? Let’s get the old mattress out first.”

“Everett . . .”

“Violet, please get the door.”

Right.

I open the door, and we head up to the newly painted bedroom. Everett takes a second, looking around the space. “This color is great in here.”

“Thanks to you.”

“I think the only thing I can take credit for is that you’re still not painting it by hand with a brush.”

I sigh. I grab all the pillows, blankets, and sheets off the bed, tossing them in the corner. “I’ll never live that down, will I?”

“Probably not. Grab that side.” He points to the top of the mattress.

I get ahold of it, and when Everett goes to grab his side, one of the coils nearly pops out. “Jesus, you slept on this?”

“The bed in my old room had a weird smell, so I figured this was a better risk.”

He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath, but I don’t catch what he said.

We get the old mattress out and the new one in without any issues.

Everett stands against the doorjamb as I finish adding back the pillows.

“You know you only have one head, right?” he asks as I arrange the lumbar one.

“Yes, I am aware of that.”

“Okay, so why the thirty-two pillows?”

I roll my eyes. “I have six.”

“Okay, same point applies.”

“It makes the bed look pretty.”

He grins. “I see.”

Men never understand these things. There is something about getting in a made bed that looks inviting and comfortable. Also, I needed the pillows to help with the errant springs, but I guess that won’t be a problem now.

I sit on the bed and smile. “Thank you for this.”

He steps into the room a little more. “Is it comfortable?”

“I hope so,” I say, not having a clue whether it is, but no matter what, it’s better than what I had.

“Test it.”

I pull my lower lip between my teeth and then flop back. Oh, it’s heavenly. The bed has no lumps or sharp metal pieces jutting out. There is a plush pillow top attached to it, and it seems to just cocoon me perfectly. I roll back and forth and sigh.

Everett chuckles, much closer now, and I lift my head to see him standing by the bed.

“This is a really good mattress.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says.

I reach out, grab his wrists, and pull him down next to me. “See, great bed.”

“Very comfortable, lacking any protruding springs.”

“And you really won’t take anything for it?” I ask, rolling to my side.

“It’s a gift, Violet. You don’t pay for gifts. Haven’t you ever had someone just do something nice for you and not expect anything in return?”

“Yes, but it’s just uncomfortable in a way for me.”

“You owe me nothing,” he says firmly. “This is what you do for people you care about.”

I care about you, too, I want to say but keep the words to myself.

His eyes find mine, and the way they brighten causes an electric shock to run through me. Everett and I are lying in bed, and suddenly I see a very different picture. One where his body is over mine, his lips ... his touch.

The air suddenly feels harder to get into my lungs, and he seems to be struggling with the same thing. I want to kiss him. Badly. I know I just need to say the words, but I let the desire shine through my eyes instead.

I lean closer, not by a lot, just slightly testing myself, but then he abruptly pushes up, getting to his feet. “I should go. Enjoy the bed,” he says hurriedly before walking out.

Leaving me alone on my new mattress and my head an absolute mess.

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