Tatted Cowboy (3 page)

“I love being back here,” I sigh.

“I wish you lot never had to leave, but I understood why.  That drought was terrible and didn’t break for years,” Gran replies as she walks along beside me.

It is the following Thursday after our game of Bingo and we are taking an afternoon stroll around the streets.  The sun is slowly going down in the distance but I know we have a couple more hours of daylight, at least.

Gran and I continue to walk in silence, except for the occasional comment amount someone’s garden or the like. 

As we approach a small, semi-rundown building I come to halt and stare.  It’s gorgeous.  Absolutely stunning.  Two large windows frame the glass front door, so I stick my hand up against one of them and move in closer to have a look.  It’s bare inside.  Dust is covering every surface and it needs a new paint job, and a broom run over the ceiling to rid the cobwebs, but it’s calling to me on a level I can’t really explain.  I take a step back to look up and around.  A tin roof extends out over the footpath and solid wooden beams hold it in place. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Gran asks.

I don’t answer for a minute.  Instead, I let my mind wander.

“Earth to Laura.” Gran snaps her fingers in front of my face.

“Sorry, Gran.  What did you say?”

“I asked what is wrong.  You’re staring off into space with a goofy grin on your face.”

“Oh,” I duck my head as I feel my cheeks heat.  “What’s the story on this shop front?” I finally ask.

“Well…” She pauses to look around and think.  “It’s been vacant since the Baker family closed down.  They attempted to open a hardware store, even though there’s already one in town.  Competition isn’t good in a small town.”  She shakes her head disapprovingly.  “Anyhow, I believe it’s for sale.” She shrugs.  “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur, suddenly feeling shy about my daydream.

She gives me a look that clearly says,
talk
.  So, I suck in a breath of courage and speak aloud my dreams.

“I can’t explain it, Gran, but I feel like I
need
to have this shop.  I can see it all so clearly… It’s got this hold over me and I feel like if I keep on walking and don’t pursue this dream then I’ll be missing out for the rest of my life,” I gush.

“Say you do buy it, what are you going to do with it?  And you better not say a hardware store,” she chides before I can answer.

I let out a sharp burst of laughter at the serious look on her face before reassuring her.  “No, Gran, I will most certainly not be opening a hardware store.  I was thinking I could open a beauty salon…I could offer waxing, facials, manicures, pedicures and even professional makeup for weddings and debutante balls.”

“It sounds like a great idea.  It would save people driving into Darwin,” Gran muses.

I close my eyes and I can see my dream so clearly.

Brown and cream decor and scattered candles to provide a soothing environment.  Bursts of colour with fresh flowers throughout.  Soft music playing in the background.

“The best thing to do would be to contact Ruben Baker and go from there.  His number will be in the phone book.”

“Okay.”  Pulling out my phone, I stand back off the footpath and snap a shot of the building.  Hopefully Mr Baker is willing to sell it for the right price. 

***

As soon as Gran and I walk inside her house, I race to the small wooden end table near her Laz-E-Boy and pull out the phone book.  I scroll through the names until I find two listings for R. Baker, Pine Creek.

“Gran, which one is the right R. Baker?” I call out.

I hear her replace the lid on the sugar canister, so I know she’s making herself a cup of tea, as she answers, “Hang on just a tick.”

My foot taps impatiently as I try to decide which listing is the one I need.

Finally, Gran comes in and sits her cup of tea down before looking over my shoulder.  “I think it’s that one,” she says, pointing to the Clarince Street listing.  “I’m positive that’s the one.”  She nods firmly.

I grab the phone and dial the number, my heart thrumming in my chest.

“Hello,” a deep, elderly voice answers.

“Good afternoon, is this Ruben Baker?”

“Speaking,” he replies immediately.

“Hi Mr Baker, my name is Laura Carlisle, and I’m calling about the building you own in Pine Creek.  I believe it was previously used as a hardware store?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I’ve just recently moved back to Pine Creek and I was wondering if you were interested in selling?”

“Oh.”  He sounds taken aback and my heart sinks.  “We were hoping to sell both of the properties together,” he admits.

“I wasn’t aware there was a second property.”  I glance up at Gran, who’s sipping her tea.  She frowns at my statement.

“Yes, directly behind the shop front is a house.  It’s on a separate block, but we originally purchased both properties in the hopes our son would move into the house and run the hardware shop.”

“Okay.”  I bite my lip in contemplation.  “Would it be possible to have an inspection of the house and the shop?” I ask.

“Of course.”

We organize to meet up the next afternoon and I end the call.

“What other property?” Gran asks as soon as I hit end.

I fill her in on what Mr Baker said and she nods.  “Oh yes.  I know the one.  It’s a nice, tidy place.  A little on the large side, though.”

“Great,” I mumble.  He probably wants a fortune for both properties.  While I’ve got a fair chunk of cash saved from when Frank and I divided all our assets, I don’t want to blow it all on buying the shop, especially when I know I’ll have to spend a fair amount to fix it up before I can even think about opening the doors and making money.

“Just wait and see what tomorrow brings,” Gran advises.

“I’m going to have a shower and then I’ll be back down to put dinner on.”  I give her a pat on the arm as I walk past.

Entering my room, I look around.  It’s pretty basic.  The same queen sized bed that was in here when I was a kid still sits in the centre.  The frame is wrought iron that has been painted white and the bedspread is classic country chic.  There’s a low white dresser with large mirror against one wall and a built-in wardrobe takes up most of the other side.  On the shelf jutting off the bottom of the window that looks out over Gran’s beautiful, but slightly overgrown garden, sits a teddy bear.

I look at it and smile even as my heart cracks.  Pale blue fur I know is so soft it is almost unbelievable, black beady eyes and two pale cream feet have my son’s name and birth date stitched on them in dark blue thread.  A zipper on the back closes over a small urn that holds his ashes snugly in the stomach of the teddy.

Miss you so much, baby
.

Tears prick my eyes and I leave the room.

As the cool water heats for my shower, I let my mind wander.  I need to figure out what I want to do with my life.  I need some goals and something to focus on.  I need direction.  I’ve been here almost a month and it is time I took control.  Moving here was about starting afresh and I need to make sure I do that, instead of allowing myself to sink into a rut again.

Climbing under the spray, as the water rushes over me, a small seed of hope begins to grow in my stomach.

***

Nervous excitement frizzles through my body.  I bounce on the spot, hopping from one sneaker-covered foot to the other.

“Calm down, child,” Gran tutts, shaking her head.

“I’m nervous.”  I don’t need to voice the words, my behaviour is evidence enough, but I still do.

“Come on then, it’s about time.”  She dabs on some of her favourite floral perfume, sets the bottle back down and grabs her handbag before walking out the door.  “Are you going to stand there all day?” she calls, her back to me as she clears the front door.

This is it!

I take my purse, phone and keys from the table and shoot through the house.

Gran’s already waiting, sitting in the passenger seat of my car.  I jump in and turn the ignition.  Looking over to her, I give her a nerve-filled smile.

“Tell me I’m doing the right thing?” I whisper in a moment of doubt.

She reaches over and places her warm, wrinkled hand on top of mine in my lap.  Looking deep into my eyes, she speaks softly.

“I can’t be the one to tell you if you’re doing the right thing or the wrong thing.  The only thing I know for sure is that following your dreams is
never
wrong.”  She gives my hand a squeeze before releasing me.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, putting the car in reverse.

I park curbside and Gran and I climb out as an older gentleman comes towards us.

“You must be Laura.” He smiles, extending his right hand.

“I am.  Mr Baker, I take it?”  He nods and I take his hand and give a firm shake.

“This is my grandmother, Marjorie Carlisle.”

“Ah, yes, I know Marj. Good to see you.” He gives Gran a smile and shakes her hand.

After Gran replies her greeting, Mr Baker throws his hand out and says, “After you.”

He unlocks the door and we all walk through.  The shop is generous.  It’s very large and all open plan.  There’s a skylight complementing the large windows, providing more than enough natural light.

Everything has been cleared out, so it’s basically just a large empty room.  A blank canvas.  I love it even more now I’m inside it.

“There’s a small kitchenette through here and a bathroom just through there.”

“It’s gorgeous,” I say, looking around again.  I catch Gran’s eye and she gives me a nod, sealing her approval.

“Shall we take a look at the house?” Mr Baker asks.

“Absolutely.”

“If we cut through the back, it will be quicker to walk.  Unless, you’d prefer to drive?”

“Gran?” I ask.

“Walking is fine, love.”

“Let’s walk, then.”  I give Mr Baker a smile.

He secures the door of the shop and we walk out the back entrance, across a narrow alleyway and then we’re on the footpath again.

I walk forward a few steps and take my first good look at the house.  My breath catches.

Wow.

The yard is fenced with black wrought iron and two large palm trees frame the entry.  Small white pebbles surround large sandstone pavers leading up to the front porch and the entire front yard looks like an oasis.  A fishpond with a soothingly beautiful waterfall fountain cascading into it sits to the right.  There are lilies floating on the surface and I bet it is filled with large goldfish.  A love swing sits beside it, shaded by more palms and I can’t help but want to sit down on that swing and read for hours!

Mr Baker clears his throat behind me and I realize I’ve been standing unmoving, transfixed by the sheer beauty of this house.  I’m captivated.

“Sorry,” I mutter as I walk the path leading the generous wrap around verandah.

“As you can see, the gardens are well established.  Unfortunately, I can’t take the credit for that, though,” he adds with a chuckle.

“It’s gorgeous.  I think I’m in love with the pond.”

“Yes, my wife was quite fond of that as well.  She’s the one who has maintained the yard since we purchased the house.”  Taking the key, he unlocks the front door and we walk through. 

“I apologise for the slightly stuffy smell.  No one has lived here since the previous owners moved out,” he grimaces.

“That’s fine.” I wave away his concerns.  Gran follows as we make our way from room to room, with Mr Baker pointing out attributes. 

Hardwood floors in honey coloured pine give a warm glow to the house while the white walls and large windows provide a light, airy feel.

“There are four bedrooms in total, plus the office,” Mr Baker says as he points them all out, including the spacious master bedroom with walk in closet and ensuite.  The other three bedrooms are also generous in size and the office is practical with built-in shelving taking up one wall.

“This place is fantastic,” I murmur.  We haven’t even seen the living area yet!

In the back of my mind though, I know I won’t be able to afford this house.  It doesn’t matter how much I love it, or how much I feel like it is already mine.  There is no way a house this large would ever be inside my budget.

Still, there is no harm in having a sticky beak, is there?

“The view over the back yard is just gorgeous from this window,” I hear Gran call.  She went off on her own little tour as soon as we cleared the threshold.

Mr Baker leads me down the hall and I gasp as the room opens up.  There’s a massive space for the open living and dining areas.  All of that leads to the most gorgeous modern country kitchen I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Why on earth would anyone want to sell this place?” I whisper, mostly to myself.