Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

HALLIE

My father was already sitting at the large dining room table when I approached for dinner. He must have just gotten home from work because his jacket was hanging over the back of his chair. He’d taken the time to roll his button-down shirt sleeves up to his forearms. He spent a lot of time at his office in Asheville. When I first arrived, he said the 100 acres of property our family owned went back three generations. He’d never mentioned any animosity with his neighbors. Maybe the guy today was full of shit and just having a laugh at my expense. Darla came through the swinging door carrying a platter of ham. I smiled at her. She’d been one constant in the time I’d been here. Aunt Caroline and my father both spent a lot of time in Asheville. Fidgeting, I wished I’d brought my light cardigan down with me, the air pumping through the large house was cold. I’d changed into a yellow sundress. My father had made it clear early on that ladies didn’t wear cut off shorts to dinner. Darla was a great cook and skipping lunch today turned out to be worth it when I noticed the mashed potatoes, green beans and rolls already on the table. Despite the heat of the day, the heavy meal in front of me looked more than appetizing.

“How was your day?” My father asked me as he poured some apple cider into my glass.

“Good, I went for a long walk and found a waterfall,” I said, deciding not to mention the guy to gauge my father’s reaction before I admitted anything.

“Waterfall?” Placing the jug down, my father looked at me intently. “We don’t have a waterfall on our property. I can show you the maps. Best to stay clear of that area.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Folks around here don’t take kindly to trespassing,” he said, not looking at me.

“There isn’t anyone around for miles, can it really hurt so much to cross property lines so far up in the mountains?” I asked, baffled by why it matters so much.

My father’s expression made me pause, “The Williams family is not to be trusted. They’re a bunch of criminals. I expect this to be the end of this discussion.”

The comment made me pause; my father had never spoken to me with that sort of tone. Though, it wasn’t lost on me that we barely knew each other, but still the force behind his warning was strange.

“You look just like your mother when I first met her. Sometimes it's surreal to have you here,” he said, quietly, fidgeting with the material of the cloth napkin.

“No offense, but I’m surprised my mother gave you the time of day! Back when she had money, she could be quite rude. Well, scratch that, she hasn’t learned to be more gracious.”

“I imagine we’re both different now.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to know where the Michaelson property ends, anyway. It’s not like you’ve got signs posted or anything,” I said, enjoying the buttery comfort of the mashed potatoes I’d let melt on my tongue before speaking.

“I can get Jones to take you on a tour of the perimeter,” he said as he cut his ham into bite-sized pieces.

Having to spend any time with Jones was about as appealing as going to the dentist for a root canal. The man never smiled and grunted more than he talked. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

My father paused, but before he could say anything, we heard the front door open and shut.”

After a few minutes, my Aunt Caroline showed up in the doorway. “Oh good, I didn’t miss dinner,” she said and took a seat, a place setting waiting for her.

“Did you file the Danvers paperwork,” my father asked? My aunt and father were both partners at a large law firm in downtown Asheville. It sounded like they specialized in property.

“Of course, that’s why I’m late,” she said without skipping a beat on putting food on her plate.

Later that evening, I sat with my aunt on the screened in porch, sipping sweet tea and listening to the sounds of the night.

“What’s the deal with our family and the Williams?”

My aunt stopped rocking in her chair and took me in. “Where did you hear that name?”

“I met one of them today. He found me swimming in a natural pool and now I know it was on Williams’ land, though I didn’t know that at the time,” I said, wondering if my aunt would tell me anything.

“The Michaelson’s and Williams’ have been on unfriendly terms for at least a generation. I’m not sure any of us really remember how it started. Do as your father says and don’t go back to that pool,” she said, taking a slow sip of her martini.

“You make it sound like some kind of Hatfield and McCoy, shit,” I laughed a little at even knowing what that old reference was as I’d seen a documentary on one of the cable channels a couple years before.

“Hallie, I get this is all very strange for you. A girl who didn’t even know she had a family legacy in western North Carolina a month ago, but some things are better left in the past,” Aunt Carolina said and started gently rocking her chair again, looking out into the night. The sounds of chirping not far off. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the natural sounds that surrounded this place.

“Tell me about my parents. What happened?”

“From what I know, Lance became quite smitten with your mother when he did a summer internship in New York. I think it burned hot and quick. He left the city never knowing you existed. You really shocked him when you called the first time, but he was quick to welcome it.”

“I found some old letters in my mother’s closet. I’d asked about my father a few times as I was growing up, but my mother said she’d been young and that it could never work. It was better that we were on our own.” I said, sad my mother knew more than she ever told me.

“I’m curious how your mother lost her fortune,” Caroline asked, looking at me in the dim light of the porch.

“Bad investments, I guess. She’s been vague on the details. I just know the money for school is gone. I checked her office and didn’t find much so I went to her closet and that’s when I found the letters from my dad. He seemed so in love with her and when I asked her, she just said that it was never going to work. He was from here and would never fit in the city full-time and this was the last place she’d ever want to be. Is love just not enough, sometimes?”

“I don’t know if I believe that, honestly. My Paul and I got through the good and the bad together and I think it was because of our love,” Caroline said wistfully.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get to meet him,” I said, quietly.

“Oh, me too. He was such a good man,” Caroline smiled at me.

“Is it hard to talk about him?” I asked.

“Not at all, I’ll always love him.” Caroline stood from her chair, getting closer to the back door of the porch.

“Do you think you’ll ever date again?” I asked, knowing my Uncle Paul’s death had been two years ago, from cancer.

“I’d like to have love in my life again. I don’t expect it to be like I had before, but there is a lot to be said for companionship,” Caroline turned and smiled as she went to the sideboard and poured more liquid into her glass.

“Did my father never marry?” I realized I’d never thought to ask him that directly.

“Yes! Her name was Maria. They were together for 10 years, and they seemed happy enough. I guess until they weren’t. She went back to Vermont after the divorce. They never had kids, so it was all settled quickly and quietly. No drama. Maria was the least confrontational woman I’ve ever met.”

“Interesting,” I said, not really knowing what else to say to that bit of news.

“I know that’s why your dad was so excited to have you come and stay with us. He’d always wanted children. I know Maria went through a round or two of IVF, but it never worked out. I’m guessing that is what finally put too much stress on what they had together.”

“Well, that’s just awful,” I said, “it wasn’t anyone’s fault if it didn’t work out with kids,” I said, feeling sad for a woman I would never meet. But the idea of someone no longer loving me because I couldn’t produce a child made me feel unsettled.

“I imagine it wasn’t that simple,” Caroline frowned as she took her seat again, “what about your mom, did she marry?”

“Yes, she married Nate when I was about 3. I knew he wasn’t my dad because he liked to remind me of that all the time. He left her for someone else when I was 8, but I wasn’t sad about it. He was an asshole. I think she was secretly happy too, but she’d never admit to it”

“Well, what about you? Any old flames waiting for you back at college?” Caroline quirked her brow at me.

“I’ve dated, but nothing serious. I’m in no hurry at this point,” I said, really meaning that.

“I got married when I was a few years older than you are now. I still had about a year of law school, but I didn’t want to waste a second not being Mrs. Paul Stapleton,” Caroline brought her left hand out to admire her ring in the dim lighting.

“I’m sure you know when you know,” I said, really meaning that. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in love. I did. I just didn’t have an agenda about it. When and if it happened, so be it. At 22, I wanted to finish college, maybe travel, get a great job and just let things happen as they happened.