Page 9 of Secrets That Bind Us

“I’m just saying.” I sigh and roll my eyes, biting my lip to keep from cracking a smile. God, it really does feel good to be home.

“Well, whaddaya think?”

Like I’m having immediate déjà vu from my earlier conversation with Zoey– except this time, it’s William Cunningham Jr. pointing to a blueprint in the middle of my mother’s kitchen island.

A blueprint that will interconnect the study to the primary suite, connect the attic to my old childhood bedroom to create an open loft for Sav to paint and jam out on her guitar.

Knock down the wall from the guest bedroom, build a new wall in the middle of it to Noah’s to make his room larger and the last guest bedroom smaller.

In total, we’re making the four bedrooms upstairs into three larger ones, a small guest bedroom and the primary bedroom into a primary suite with a large study.

If we’ll be living here for a year, (ick) we’ll be living comfortably.

“The rewiring?”

“Total about eight weeks.” Will replies, pencil in hand– but he makes quick work tucking it behind his ear.

“If you hire more people?”

Blue eyes meet mine, but they’re the wrong shade of blue. Or maybe they’re the right shade, and he’s just the wrong man. He tilts his head side to side, doing the math in his head. He was always good at math. “Six. Weather permitting.”

I cross an arm over my chest and under my breasts, cup my elbow, bringing my fingers to the charm on my necklace.

I gaze out of the kitchen window, watching the second section of Will and Jay’s crew doing whatever a construction crew does to build a pool.

Houses, I know. Pools, I do not. “It doesn’t rain till the evening of the Fourth of July here, Will. ”

He huffs out what sounds like a chuckle. This one isn’t full of malice. Not like back then. "You remember that, do ya?”

I remember everything. I don’t say. Even more I did my best to forget. “Get more workers here. There’s a second project I’ll need you to work on in town– if everything goes according to plan and I like the work you do here.”

“Yeah, my cousin Jay told me about that.”

I sigh. Seems word still travels fast around these parts.

“Nah, Emory’s dating Jay.” He says, letting me know I said that out loud.

“The basement?” I ask, choosing to ignore what could lead to gossip.

The basement is an old storm shelter I want turned into a game room for the kids– where they can feel comfortable bringing friends over and hanging out.

It’ll also be a storage area for whatever we need to store, including moving the furnace and boiler to a different section.

“About that…”

I turn to look at him. The clear tarps, currently being used like curtains, section off the living and dining areas from my mother’s kitchen behind his tall frame.

Everything behind him is blurry, the light peeking in through the old blinds tells me it’s close to midday.

I raise a brow in question, waiting for him to speak.

“Seems one of the walls is smaller than the original blueprints.”

“I’m not worried about that. I want to know if you can make the changes we talked about.”

He nods.

“How long?” I take a good look at Will. He’s still rakishly handsome with an athletic build from working outside, the tan to go along with.

Sandy blonde hair, matching brows, but now there’s tiny patches of silver in his scruffy beard.

He smells like outside, sawdust, and leather.

If I breathe in too deeply, it almost reminds me of my dad. So I don’t.

“My guys don’t want to work down there.” He finally says.

I tilt my head at Will. Will, who I’ve known since second grade.

Big Bad Will, who hung out with Tiffany’s crew.

Who made sure I was miserable during Geometry our sophomore year.

I’m amazed they didn’t get married and spawn little demons.

I hold in my smirk at that. Actually, I’m really surprised Evelyn even gave him a chance. He was such a… a douchebag.

“They’ve… seen… things.”

“It’s an old house, Will. Of course they’ve seen things.

” I scoff, failing to keep the irritation from my voice.

But I know they’ve seen things. The ghosts that haunt here are nothing more than memories – they’re etched into the very walls, the floorboards…

this house held darkness. Not evil, per se.

But cruel, unadulterated darkness . Memories of picking my mother up off the floor want to flood me- there, in the recesses of my mind, but I keep them down.

I keep it all down. Just like I have for the past thirteen years.

“Look, Verity, I don’t know if Zoey told you this, but when she was looking to hire, my crew was the only one that would take this job.

” She did not. “It’s a good paying one, and it’s helping me out.

Remodeling a house this old - it’s a good way for me to get my name out there, really out there.

Especially being attached to yours. The fixtures we’ve picked out, the color schemes, keeping some of the original pieces while modernizing it – trust me, I’m grateful-“

“Hire the extra workers.” I interrupt, already sick of hearing excuses.

“My kids are staying at a hotel , Will. They’re having to eat take out for every single meal.

We’re a family of three staying in one room.

Granted, it’s large– but I can’t even write because it’s so goddamn loud all day, every day.

I haven’t typed in weeks , because I’ve been dealing with this, and that, going through my mom’s things I had to put in a storage unit that has no fucking centralized AC, and having to run all over town so much so that I won’t be able to meet my deadline.

My kids start school in ten weeks. I have to register them in six .

Knowing this fucking town it'll be some Queen Bitch that tortured me in high school who will somehow, magically, I might add, find a reason to make that difficult for me.

“So do me the favor, Will, and hire people that don’t scare easily, and hurry on.

The basement is spooky. Every basement is.

Especially with them being so rare in Texas.

Give me the list of extra supplies you’ll need.

If you need me to bring Reverend Bishop to bless the goddamn thing, I’ll get Bishop here.

But do your job so I can do mine so we can both be paid. ” I pant.

The room is silent, my cheeks are flushed, and I’m breathless . The anger in me dissipates just as quickly as it had risen. Will’s open mouth stare snaps me out of whatever daze I was in.

I take a step back and clear my throat, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry, I… don’t know what got into me. It’s the heat, I think.” I swallow, my trachea dry and scratchy.

Will shakes his head. “No, you’re right. Your kids deserve to sleep in their own beds and walk around in their own space. I know my kids drive each other bonkers when we’re on vacation for three days. I can’t imagine three weeks. I’ll get ten guys on each level. We’ll tackle the basement last.”

I nod slowly, my hands still shaking slightly. “Thank you,” I rasp, “I’ll be here tonight to clean out the attic when it cools down some. Give the kids a chance to get out of the hotel for a night.”

“You still want to go over the plans for the barn?”

Considering that’s where the reception will be held? Fucking duh. “Yeah, please.”

He goes over the farming equipment in the barn, estimating I could still sell some of the more antique ones as scrap metal– stating some people may use them as rustic props.

I just nod along, reminding him I want it all gone.

Every trace of him, my father, gone. I don’t exactly say that bit, but I think he knows by the way his gaze softens.

The embarrassment from earlier slowly goes away as we go over every blueprint, and the cost of paving the driveway, creating a concrete one instead of gravel.

“She’ll be a fine house when we’re done with her.” He reassures me.

I’m about to agree when a creaking groan from upstairs is heard, reverberating from the ceiling above us to the walls behind us. I watch a shiver go down his spine, the hairs on his forearms standing on end.

Will chuckles nervously. “Maybe get a plumber out here as soon as possible.”

“On it.” I reply, whipping out my phone from my back pocket, pulling up the local businesses in town, skipping over Carson & Sons Auto Shop.

“It’s Lily.”

“Huh?”

“Lillian Suarez. She’s the admin lady for the schools. But she’s Lily Kilgore now.”

I groan. “Fuck.”

“I’m really sorry, by the way.” My eyes snap up to his. Will shrugs sheepishly, heavy shoulders go back, and he does some weird motion with his hands. “We were dicks to you after Dean broke up with Tiffany for you. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Who deserves getting chocolate pudding poured down their pants, just to be pantsed in front of the entire cafeteria and then be pointed to and laughed at?” I ask rhetorically, still scrolling for a plumber.

“Tiffany was really-“

“I don’t care, Will. Tiffany bagged my groceries last night after she tried hiding that she was reading my last book down at the local Walmart.”

“She really took a tumble after her daddy died a few years ago.”

Oh, that’s new. Mayor Myers died. Hmmph. I search within for an ounce of empathy or a fuck to give. Oh, none currently available. Imagine that. “Yeah, parents do that.” I reply, gesturing to our surroundings. “Not to mention some disappear altogether.” I gripe.

He chuckles. "Well, look at you with a backbone.”

“I’ve learned a lot of things being away from this place, Will.

You can either let what happens to you drag you down and become a victim, or you can push forward until you’re the victor.

Never looking back– unless it’s to see how far you’ve come.

It’s exhausting being resilient. And yet, here I am. I’m still here. I’m still standing.”

The wrong pair of pale blue eyes peruse me. “What did you go through, Verity?”

I shrug, tearing my eyes away from him before finally tapping dial on Vega’s Plumbing Co. My stomach grumbles and sweat rolls down my back. “Mrs. B said, ‘Write what you know.’” And right before Vega’s answers, “Get more men. I need to be in here within the next five weeks.”