A Time to Dance ~ Excerpt ~ By Diana Lesire Brandmeyer Chapter One"I'm not going to make it on time." A moving truck van swerved in front of Deni Sparks on highway I-44. She slammed her foot down hard on the brake pedal. In exasperation, she pounded on the horn.
Traffic bumped through the potholes that pockmarked the St. Louis Poplar Street Bridge. Blinking yellow lights on top of a bridge patrol tow truck caught Deni's attention.
"Nothing like a stalled car, a flat tire or a wreck to start your Saturday morning off right." Her neck began to itch. Deni checked the mirror for the telling red splotches that always appeared when she was anxious. At the sight of her strawberry-colored neck she groaned. Up ahead she watched the tow truck squeeze through the snarled traffic.
She picked up the letter lying on the seat next to her, as if by reading it she could change the time of the meeting. The time on the paper was still the same-10:00 at the law office in Belleville. She tossed the letter back on the passenger seat and bumped the air conditioner fan up a notch. For early June, it was unusually hot and humid. "Please, Father, make this traffic move or grant me extra patience."
Through the passenger window she watched a barge push the through the muddy Mississippi. The traffic began to merge into the left lane. Flipping on her blinker, she looked over her shoulder. The driver in the next lane waved her over. With a wave back she slipped into place in the next lane. She passed the bridge patrol tow truck. Its massive front bumper aligned with the back bumper of a limping minivan full of miniature baseball players wearing Cardinal hats.
Another glance at the clock on the dashboard. Ten 'til ten and still twenty more miles to go. She pushed on the accelerator and sped down tree lined I-64 toward the 159 exit that would take her to Belleville, Illinois.
Deni drove around a fountain and turned left on Washington Street. She squeezed her cherry red Jeep into the parking space in front of a brick Victorian building. In the small front yard an iron and gold sign that proclaimed Abernathy & Abernathy Law Offices swung in the warm breeze.
She sat behind the wheel for a minute wondering why Ann would leave her something from her estate. The letter from the lawyer clearly stated she was to receive something of Ann's and that she had to be present at the reading of the will. "Only one way to find out," she said opening the door.
The gentle breeze twisted her blue floral skirt around her ankles as she read the tiny print on the parking meter sign. Searching through her suede backpack for change, she identified by feel a pen, a pack of gum, and finally a quarter.
"The meters are free on Saturday."
Startled, Deni turned to look behind her. She found her eyes centered on a chest. A manly chest. A strong looking manly chest. Tilting her head back, she found herself lost in eyes of brown caramel. "I didn't want to take a chance. I'm from Missouri."
The chest man flashed a dimpled smile at her before walking away. "Welcome to Illinois."
She whispered under her breath, "Friendly town." Deni watched his tanned muscular calves flex as he walked away from her. She didn't turn away until the blue of his shirtsleeve slid into the sleek black Jag parked two meters down.
Shaking herself back to reality Deni faced her destination. She checked her watch. Late! Oh no! The iron gate swung open easily at Deni's touch. Her heels clicked across the pink cobblestone walk. Pausing before the door she admired the craftsmanship of the stained glass in the door. The hue of the yellows, greens and purples told her the door must be original to the building. In her hand, the porcelain doorknob felt cool. Once inside she stood still letting her eyes adjust to the dim light before making her way to the receptionist's desk.
A woman in a pinstriped blue suit sat behind an imposing desk, her attention riveted to her computer monitor. "Do you have an appointment this morning?"
"With Mr. Abernathy. I'm Denise Sparks."
"Mr. Abernathy is waiting for you. You're late." She looked up then as if demanding an excuse.
"I'm sorry. Traffic was backed up," stammered Denise. "Past Market Street."
"Mr. Abernathy is in the first office on the right." The receptionist waved her hand in the general direction and went back to looking at her monitor screen.
Deni walked down the small hallway to an open doorway. The smell of cherry pipe tobacco wafted from the office. Peeking in the door she saw a man sitting at a polished cherry wood desk. She gently rapped on the door frame.
Mr. Abernathy's gray head bobbed up. He jumped out of his chair extending his hand. "Denise, come in, come in. Have a seat," he said, guiding her to a maroon chair. "Would you like some coffee, tea or perhaps a soda?"
"No, thank you." She looked around the empty room. "I thought there would be others here for the reading. I didn't think I was that late. Have they left already?"
"You're the only one. Most of Mrs. Rosen's estate was handled through the mail. It was a small estate." Mr. Abernathy glanced at the papers on his desk. "Mrs. Rosen didn't have any family living and most of her money was used for her care."
"At the nursing home."
"Quite correct. Young people should get that long-term care insurance, which wasn't available for Mrs. Rosen. It would have helped her pass on what she had worked so hard for during her lifetime."
"I didn't even know there was insurance like that." Deni shook her head in disbelief. "Now I'm even more curious. If you mailed everything, what could she have left me that couldn't be mailed?"
"She left you her lake house property. I believe you stayed there one summer."
"The lake house? To me?" Deni was stunned. An image of the comfortable cottage flashed in her mind. She remembered the soft gentle wind that came off the lake at night, walking the coastline with Ann and learning about God from her. Mr. Abernathy's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"However, there are a few things that go along with getting the property. You must decide if you will accept the conditions of the will within the next twenty-four hours."
"What conditions?" she asked, more calmly than she felt.
"You have to live in the house for three months and you must move in within the week."
"Move in this week?"
Mr. Abernathy held up his hand to keep her from interrupting. "Before you answer too quickly, you need to know that the house has been vacant for three years. There has been a caretaker, but I understand minimal upkeep has been done on the house." Mr. Abernathy gathered his papers into a neat pile and clipped them with a red paper clip. He sat back in his green leather chair and drew on his pipe. "Do you understand the stipulations of the will?"
Deni looked past Mr. Abernathy out the window. "Ann was so good to me the summer my grandmother died. She and my grandmother were best friends. We were both grief-stricken." She swiped a wayward curl off her cheek. "I still don't understand why she would leave the lake house to me."
"She told me you loved the lake and more importantly the house. When Ann and I wrote this will, Ann was sure it would be just the place for you to open your business. She mentioned how upset you were when you had to return to the university."
"I thought I would stay with her and finish the last semester in Illinois, but many of my classes wouldn't transfer. I promised her that I would come back to the lake house the next summer. Then her hip broke, then the pneumonia." Deni paused willing the tears not to start. "I went to visit her at the We Care Center when I could. It's so hard to think she's gone." Deni studied her hands for a moment, blinking back hot tears before continuing.
"Ann encouraged me to start my stained glass business. She kept telling me I was wasting my gift from God." Deni looked at Mr. Abernathy. "All I have to do is live there for three months?"
"That and sign this paper." Mr. Abernathy shoved a cream-colored document toward her. "Sign by the X's; here, here and here." He tapped the lines with his pen before handing it to her.
Deni took the paper and signed "Denise Dawn Sparks." She held onto the paper for a second. Once Mr. Abernathy had the document her life would change, for the better she hoped. "Here. I've signed all the lines."
"That should do it. You can pick up the keys from Chad Hastings. He owns the boat shop at Wooded Lake." He stood and held out his hand. "I hope this works out for you, Denise."
Denise paused at the door. "What happens to the house if I don't stay, Mr. Abernathy?"
"Provisions have been made for someone else to take over the property. Are you having second thoughts?" Mr. Abernathy rubbed the back of his neck. "You don't have to accept the house. Better to decide before you uproot your whole life. I'm sure Ann would have understood."
"No. I want to do this. If Ann believed in me that much-then I want to try." Deni smiled. "I won't need the twenty-four hours to decide. I'm going to live my dream."
Deni closed the law firm's door behind her and stood dazed in the bright sunshine. It's just not possible, she thought. The lake house is mine, just for living there three months. She fumbled for her keys, buried deep inside her backpack. "Finally," she muttered to herself, grasping the heart-shaped key ring.
She started the Jeep but didn't pull away from the curb. She sat still, trying on the feeling of owning her own house, a nice house at that. If she hadn't made plans to meet her friend Liz for lunch she would drive out and look at her new home.
Driving back to her apartment in St. Louis, Denise made mental lists of chores that would need to be done before she could move. Breaking her lease was the first thing she had to do. Not that leaving behind that small, two-bedroom-one window apartment would make her sad.
The garage at the lake house could be made into a comfortable studio. No more trying to work in the tiny second bedroom.
She might drag out the drawing of the sign she once designed for fun. The one she was going to use if she ever opened a studio, but never expected to use. She felt the excitement of a new life surge through her.
Moving to the lake house would get her away from Rob Grahm and the painful memories he brought to her daily. Every time she saw Rob in the hall, the teacher's lounge or a meeting he wouldn't even look her at her. Not even a glance. Living in Illinois would be a change for the better. She was positive. Nothing was going to make her move from the lake house. She would have a home to call her own.
In his Jag, Shane Anderson studied his opponent as she left the lawyer's office. This Sparks woman was tiny, but that didn't mean anything in a real estate war. Tiny often meant ferocious. Her floral skirt swishing around perfect ankles caught his eye. Probably a romantic. That's what his sister always said: flowers on clothes means the person is romantic.
Unexpectedly, he grinned at the smile on her contented face. Then he saw them. Pearls. She was wearing pearls, like Aunt Bee on Mayberry, and he just knew, at that very moment, that this woman would fight him. She would embed herself in that house like gold in a mine. Make that a mine two miles underground.
Shane watched the Jeep pull away from the curb. He picked up his car phone, flipped it open and punched in the number of his best friend, Chad.
"Ann left the house to some woman."
"A woman? Why?" Chad's voice sounded desperate to Shane. "Do we know her? Think she'll sell us the house?"
"I've never met her. I don't know why, but Ann left her the house at least for three months. If she doesn't stick it out then I get the property."
"There's hope then?"
"I doubt she'll stay once she gets a look at the place. She doesn't look like the type that would settle for anything less than perfect. I'll talk to you later, Chad." He pressed "End," and tossed the phone onto the leather passenger seat. Gripping the steering wheel, he pulled onto the street and thought about the plans he had made for the lake house property. Frustrated he gripped the wheel even harder. That house should have been his. He'd been close to Ann forever. All those little chores he did for her, just because he wanted to help her. Carrying in wood for the fireplace, cleaning the gutters. Sure she had paid him, but as he grew older, he had thought she would leave him the house. And why did she leave it to this woman? When had she met Ann? He planned on finding out the answer to that question within the week.
His dreams would come true. He'd spent too much time planning to give up now. A resort would bring in money for the small town. Money needed for a better library and community center. A resort would bring him more work, too, and that he could handle. He wasn't afraid of hard work. To him it was a welcome challenge.
And now he had another challenge. He wondered what kind of work it would take to make pretty Denise Sparks to leave-for good.
Pretty? Now where had that come from?
Deni drove down the two-lane road, her patience stretched like a piano string. With the help of her friends she had managed to pack her apartment. Or at least managed to get everything in boxes. And who knew what things she would find in those boxes? Her friend Lori had laughed and promised that they would just label the boxes with the name of the most important item packed in inside.
Liz had taken charge of canceling the utilities and making arrangements for the electricity and water to be working when she arrived at her new home. Liz had even managed to get her new phone number, though she wouldn't be able to use it for a few days.
Now on the road, the delivery pizza boxes tossed and crumbled newspapers almost a memory, the lake house seemed farther from St. Louis than she remembered. Farther from the friends she had left behind. A nagging feeling poked and prodded at her as the cornfields rolled past. Had she done the right thing?
The Jeep echoed with the nerve-racking howls of Marmalade. "Marmalade, kitty, please, hush! You've been howling for two hours! We're almost there. Hershey, you've been such a good boy. You look like royalty staring out the window. I bet people are saying, 'Look at that beautiful chocolate Labrador.' Oh, Hershey, you'll like having a lake to swim in."
Denise wondered when her cousin Terry would arrive at the lake with the small U-haul truck. Her life was packed inside that truck. The apartment had been so full of boxes it was difficult to move. When she and Terry had put them in the moving van they looked lonely stacked in the corner with empty space all around, making her life seem small.
She daydreamed about living at the lake. She could see the garden she would plant, full of lavender, thyme, and lemon mint. She visualized the kitchen with gleaming copper pots and shiny counter tops. She could almost inhale the wafting smells of oatmeal and cinnamon cookies. A place where children's laughter would bounce from the walls. If only they could be her own children.
Passing a sign, she was startled to realize that she had missed the first entrance to the public boathouse. "Hang on, Hershey!" She made a sharp turn into the gravel drive. She winced at Marmalade's sharp howl. "Sorry, kitty."
She rolled down the windows and made sure Hershey's leash was still clipped in the doggy seat belt. Closing the door behind her she said, "I'll be back in a second. Now don't chew the radio knobs, Hershey."
The boat shop sported cobalt blue paint with yellow window trim. Picking a penny off the cobblestone sidewalk, "See a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck." She slid the coin into her skirt pocket, hoping no one had seen her childish antics. Not that she cared. Everyone should practice being a child once in a while; besides it was a beautiful day and she felt like a child on an adventure-the adventure of a new life.
She pushed open the boat shop door. A bell jingled announcing her arrival as Denise walked through.
"I'm out back." The gravely male voice floated to Denise from a doorway behind the counter. "Be there in a second."
"Okay, thanks." Deni took a casual tour of the shop. Food supplies, birdseed, motor oil, movies, milk, paperback books, and boat parts. Hmm. A quick shop in a boat shop. Deni grinned at her own silliness, but the smile on her face disappeared when the store manager entered the shop.
"Can I help you?" A man in jeans shorts and a striped shirt stood in the doorway, wiping his oily hands on a rag.
"Mr. Abernathy sent me. I'm looking for Chad Hastings. I'm Denise Sparks."
"I'm Chad. You're the one moving into Ann's place? I sure was surprised to hear she left it to a stranger."
"I wasn't a stranger to her," said Denise, her face hot. "Maybe you weren't here when I lived with her."
"Been here all my life. Must have missed that." Chad reached up to a pegboard that held a selection of keys. He picked up a set with a coral tag and tossed them on the counter. "Here. Glad I don't have to take care of that place anymore."
"I'm sorry it was such a chore for you," Denise snapped back. She grabbed the keys from the counter and stomped out of the shop.
Back in the Jeep, Deni sped out of the parking lot. She muttered, "I can't believe the attitude of that guy. A good looker with the attitude of a grizzly bear. He made me feel like I stole the house from Ann, Hershey."
Hershey yawned, clearly not interested in her troubles.
Deni searched for familiar sites as she drove. She smiled as she passed a mailbox made like a cow. "I remember now. It's just around that corner. It's almost time to get out of your kennel, Marmalade."
Deni eased the Jeep to a stop next to a mailbox. The numbers 126 were barely visible. Queen Anne's Lace grew high against the black metal post. The mailbox lid hung like a heavy teardrop from a rusted hinge. Resting inside the box was a bird's nest. She groaned. "I hope the house is better than this." When she turned the Jeep down the gravel drive, bubbles began building, separating and popping in her stomach. "God, maybe I should have looked at the house before I gave up the apartment. I hope I'm doing what You want me to do," she prayed.
The crunching gravel under the tires sounded ominous as she drove down the oak tree lined lane. Abundant weeds were intermixed with the limestone rock in the driveway. Deep potholes were filled with water from an early morning shower. The back tires plunged into a deep hole. Marmalade screeched.
The Jeep jerked to a stop in front of the house. The front steps leaned at an odd angle. The third step was missing. A screen hung off a second floor window. Peeling dove-gray paint adorned the shutters. The front gardens were full of weeds; a straggly baby's breath and a few daisies weakly stuck their heads out, looking for sunshine. The gutters exploded with rotten black leaves. Denise moaned. What have I committed myself to?
Hershey whimpered and whacked his tail against the front seat, bringing her back to more pressing needs. "Okay, okay I'll let you out." As soon as Deni released Hershey's leash, he ran across her lap, not waiting the door to open completely. Pushing it with his head, Hershey bounded off in the direction of the lake.
"Marmalade, looks like you and I get to explore the house together." Denise picked up the kennel and carefully made her way up the cracked wooden steps. She gently put the kennel down next to the door. "This is the moment of truth. I wonder if the key will even work?" She inserted the key and turned, expecting the door to creak when she pushed it open. It didn't. After closing the door behind her, she unlatched Marmalade's kennel door. "Come here, Marmy." She picked up the orange fluff ball and held her close.
The living room didn't look bad. A green and blue braided rug covered part of the light oak floor. Across from the fireplace a blue stripped couch peeked out from under a sheet. A brown leather chair sat near the window, next to a round game table. Filled bookshelves lined one wall. A few shelves were decorated with ornately designed spider webs.
Deni walked down a short hallway to the kitchen. "Please, let it be the way I remember it." She let out a sigh and dropped Marmalade to the floor. "It's just like I remembered!" Large white cabinets with glass doors, a center island cook top and counter space, wallpaper with blue forget-me-nots. When she closed her eyes for a moment, she could picture Ann sitting at the table, sipping tea and reading her Bible.
At the sound of tapping on the back door Deni jumped. She opened the door. A whimper caused her to look down. Hershey sat on the porch, dripping wet. Next to him was a pair of large feet in running shoes. The feet led to tanned, muscled legs. When her eyes reached the hem of a pair of jeans shorts, she jerked her head up, acutely conscious of a tall, athletic physique. He seemed vaguely familiar. Her eyes met his dark chocolate ones. She felt a shock run through her. She looked away, refusing to acknowledge the longing feeling. "Hi, I see you've found"
"This is your dog then? You shouldn't let him run loose; someone might steal him," he said.
"I didn't let him run loose," she said, lifting her chin a little higher. "He smelled the water and took off running. Who are you?"
"I'm Shane Anderson. You're Denise."
"You know my name?" Deni stammered in bewilderment. Now she remembered, he was the man in front of Abernathy's Law Office, the one that said welcome, the one in the black Jag with the strong calves.
"I sat in my car and watched you go into Abernathy's building. Wasn't too hard to figure out that you were probably Denise. Abernathy told me Ann left you the house." Shane reached down to scratch Hershey's ears. "I hope you'll enjoy it for the next three months because after that it's mine."
"Yours?"
"Didn't Abernathy tell you? If you leave, the house goes to me."
"Why you?" Deni spat out the words.
"I'm next in line. If you leave, I get the house. Ann knew I wanted just the property." Shane waved his hand at the house. "Guess she thought you might keep it like it is."
"Don't count on it ever being yours. I'm staying for the next thirty years." He felt as if her green eyes had grown claws ready to rip his skin at the next wrong word. He stood straighter.
Shane studied her intently. Anger dusted her cheeks dusty rose. Her wavy auburn hair seemed full of energy. For a moment he allowed himself to wonder what that thick hair would feel like in his hands every night for the next thirty years. He brushed off the feeling, finally managing to say, "For thirty years?"
Deni smiled, much to his relief. "Maybe not thirty, but I do plan to stay here. Why do you want this house?"
"Not the house, just the property. I'm an architect. I have plans for this spot." Shane captured her gaze. He reached out and caught her hand in his. "Let's start over, please. Hi, I'm Shane Anderson."
Shane watched the hesitation in her face. She slowly pulled his hand from hers.
"Denise Sparks, Deni. Nice to meet you."
"Much better, especially since we are neighbors." Shane glanced back at the Jeep. "Want some help carrying in all those boxes?"
Deni smiled. "That's not all the boxes. The truck will be here later." Flashing him a quick smile, she said, "You're welcome to stick around and help unload it."
Shane carried the last box from the Jeep muttering to himself, "This one is heavy. Must be books." He set it down next to the bookcases. He jumped as something flew past him. "Whoa! What was that?"
Deni came into the room carrying the orange velvety cat. "Shane, meet Marmalade. I think you scared her when you dropped the box on the floor."
"I didn't drop it. I set it down," Shane grumbled. "There are plenty of books here already. You didn't need to bring more."
"Actually, those books go in the kitchen. They're cookbooks, or they're supposed to be if I believe the label." Deni smiled. "Would you mind putting them there?"
The sound of a blaring horn had her running to the window. A yellow and white moving truck launched gray smoke clouds as it bumped down the gravel drive.
"Terry's here! Thank goodness. I was afraid he wouldn't be able to find me." Deni dropped Marmalade gently on the covered couch and ran out the door.
The door to the moving truck opened, spilling a curly haired man dressed in chinos and checkered shirt.
Deni stopped short when she got a look at him. "Terry, you are going to help unload this thing, aren't you?"
"I suppose I could move a few things for you. I just volunteered to drive the truck remember?" Terry chuckled.
Behind her Deni heard Shane coming out of the house. "Shane, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Terry 'Lazybones' Fine."
"That hurts, Deni." Terry thrust his hand out to Shane. "I'm really not deserving of that name. She's the one that can trick you into doing her work while she watches." Terry laughed.
Deni playfully slugged him in the arm.
"I'm kidding, Deni. Open the back and let's get started."
Deni pushed up the truck door.
"Surprise!"
She squealed in delight as her best friend climbed out the back. "Liz!"
Hershey ran around barking in delight.
Liz dropped down to her knees and let Hershey give her doggy kisses. "I've missed you too, buddy."
"Hershey, it's my turn to hug my friend." Deni tugged her friend's freckled arm. "I thought you couldn't come, Liz."
"Last minute cancellation meant I was free to help you. Terry thought it would be fun to surprise you. That was some bumpy ride-and dusty." Liz wiped at a dusty spot on her black Capri pants. "Next time he can be the surprise."
"I'm glad you could come. I thought it would be weeks before you would get to see my house. Shane, this is Liz. Shane is a neighbor. He volunteered to help me unload the jeep."
"Volunteered?" Liz arched her eyebrows. "I'm sure that's what happened. Right Shane?"
"Actually, I think I did."
"When do we get a tour, Deni?" Liz asked.
"Seems to need some work." Terry kicked at a broken shingle lying on the drive.
"There was supposed to be a caretaker looking after this place." Deni shook her head. "Guess he didn't know what he was doing-"
Shane's voice stopped her from going any further. "My best friend, Chad Hastings, was the caretaker. He did what he could to keep the place standing. Ann didn't pay him or give him any money for repairs. He's a single parent, plus he has the boat shop to run. Doesn't leave him much time to fix things. His main goal was to keep the summer kids from destroying the house."
Cringing inside, Deni said, "I'm sorry, Shane. I didn't know. Jumping to conclusions is one of my biggest faults. I pray about it often."
Shane stared at her a moment before saying, "I forgive you. If you want to pay someone to help you fix things while you're here, Chad would be good at it."
"What do you mean while she's here?" Liz looked puzzled. "It's your house isn't it, Deni? You are going to stay, aren't you?"
"Of course I am, Liz. Shane just met me, how could he know how determined I am? He thinks I'll give up and leave this wonderful house. He's hoping because then it becomes his house." Deni frowned at Shane, "You're going to have to realize, I'm not going anywhere."
"It will be nice to have you around the neighborhood for a little while," Shane said jokingly, "but I'll be surprised if you stay."
Deni glared at him. "Come on, everyone. I'll take you on a tour of my house, just as soon as we move the bedroom furniture upstairs."
Terry groaned. "Shane, hope you don't mind but this will be a lot easier if you could help me move that dresser."
"Sure, I can help you move the large stuff inside."
"Thankfully, there isn't much furniture to move." Terry said grabbing one end of the dresser. "Just this, the futon and the kitchen table."
Later they all stood at the back of the moving van. Shane touched Deni's arm. "All that's left are boxes. Deni, I really have to run a few errands. I'll probably see you around." He started to walk away then turned and grinned. "I want you to know I'll be happy to help you move out when you're ready to leave."
Deni watched him go then turned to Liz. "He couldn't know, could he? I'll never give up this chance God has given me."
"You won't have to, Deni. God will work things out. He always does." Liz smiled. "He's cute, you know."
"Who, God?" Deni laughed. "I never thought of Him as being cute, more the kind grandfatherly type."
"Not God. Shane!" Liz glared at her friend. "You have to learn to love again, Deni. Ron wasn't the right person for you. He was mean-spirited and not caring. Who knows? Maybe Shane-"
"Jumping caterpillars, Liz! Just let me move in and get my business started before you marry me off to Shane, okay?" Deni grabbed a box and stomped her way up the stairs.
But Liz's words echoed in her mind. Maybe God had given her more than just a chance to make a home and start over-but a chance to find love as well.
Excerpt from A Time to Dance
© by Diana Lesire Brandmeyer
Published by Awe-Struck E-Books
A Time to Dance
An Inspirational Romance from Awe-Struck E-Books
