The Home They Built Read online

  She was going to be in Blackberry Bay for weeks, helping the Weaver family renovate their historic inn and looking for more information about her birth mother.

  It was a lot.

  But after one more deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked Eryn in the eye. She could do this. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”

  As she turned back toward Mike, she saw that Finn was gone. On the one hand, that was a good thing. Having him around probably wasn’t great for her ability to focus on what she was doing. But there was a part of her that wished he’d stayed long enough to see her actually nail the walk-and-talk run-through like the professional she was.

  Twenty minutes later, Mike had the minimum he needed and they were all in the house, hiding from the heavy rain. Tess had put out baked goods and beverages, so everybody was in a pretty good mood.

  She also got the opportunity to meet Tess’s son Joel and his wife, Alice. Joel looked like an older, softer version of his son, though Finn definitely had Alice’s eyes. The couple smiled and said all the right words, but it was fairly obvious neither of them wanted to be there. And based on the looks Alice kept tossing her mother-in-law’s way, they probably hadn’t been brought into Tess’s fraud until it was too late to do anything but go along with it.

  Maybe it was just because she was inexplicably drawn to Finn, but she hoped the same was true for him. She preferred to think he’d gotten sucked into his grandmother’s plan as opposed to being a willing accomplice.

  After a while, she snuck out of the kitchen everybody was gathered in and made her way to the front porch. Sinking into an old wicker rocker, she let the cool breeze wash over her while she watched the rain falling.

  On the far side of the road at the bottom of the drive was a stand of trees, and beyond that she could see the gray expanse of Blackberry Bay. On a clear, sunny day, it must be a stunning view, she thought. Or in the fall, when the trees and rolling hills around the lake were a blaze of yellow, orange and red.

  “Mind if I join you?” a deep voice asked, and Anna’s skin tingled at the sound of it.

  “Of course not. It’s your porch.”

  He sat in a rocker that matched hers, on the other side of the door, so she’d actually have to turn her head to see him. That was okay with her, because the voice was bad enough. The voice and the face together might make her say something stupid.

  “Are you really going to film us moving Gram’s stuff out of here tomorrow?” he asked after the silence had drawn on for a few minutes.

  She chuckled. “Just a little bit of it, for color. As you know, we had a crew come out last week and move most of the big stuff into the storage pods, but one of the things viewers like about Relic Rehab’s do-it-yourself vibe is the excitement. You can watch a hundred different shows about replacing bathroom tile or maximizing a home’s footprint, but our viewers want the story. Not only the story of the property, but of the people who care enough to preserve it for the future.”

  “Yeah, it’s quite a story,” Finn muttered, and Anna had to bite back her laugh. She wasn’t supposed to know just what a tall tale Tess Weaver was spinning.

  This project was definitely going to keep her on her toes. She’d already had to deal with comments from the crew who’d moved stuff into the pods. The extra rooms in the house hadn’t exactly looked like the kind of rooms people paying to vacation by a lake would pay to sleep in. But she’d waved it off and said some people preferred simple. There were probably going to be hundreds of opportunities for her or for the Weavers to slip up, and she needed to pay attention at all times.

  Then she heard the creak of wicker as he leaned back in the rocker, and a male sigh of contentment that made her toes curl in her tennis shoes. Daring to turn her head, she watched him rocking slowly, his mouth curled into a small smile as he looked out over the bay.

  The shiver of desire made her turn her gaze back to the water in a hurry. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

  “Most of the time,” he said softly. “My family can be loud, but I guess you’ll find that out yourself. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s all love. But it gets loud, and my mom and Gram can push each other’s buttons like nobody’s business.”

  “It sounds like you’re trying to warn me, but I have to confess that a loving but loud family doing a renovation together makes for great television.” She leaned her head back and rocked her chair in time with his. That was her hope for the Weavers—that the episodes would be so engaging the network wouldn’t care if they discovered the truth behind her acceptance of Tess’s questionable application. “The fun really starts tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait,” he replied without an ounce of sincerity.

  Chuckling softly, she watched the rain fall and tried to convince that panicky voice inside her head that, no, she had not gotten herself in over her head here.

  She was almost sure of it.

  Chapter Three

  Wet, sloppy kisses to the face weren’t always a bad way to wake up, but Finn could have done without the cairn terrier morning breath.

  “Grizz, get off me.” The dog yipped and tried to stick his tongue in Finn’s ear. “Okay, now you’re just making it weird.”

  He used both hands to scratch Grizzly’s neck, which not only made the dog’s whole body tremble with glee but enabled Finn to hold the doggy kisses at bay. It was his own fault for not making sure his bedroom door had latched before he crawled into bed. The house he’d grown up in wasn’t as old as Gram’s house, but it was old enough that a door being closed and a door being completely latched so a small but determined dog couldn’t push it open were two different things.

  “I’d say you have some massively bad bed head, but you always look like this, don’t you?” Finn tried to smooth down the dog’s brindle coat, with its dark blend of grays, browns and reds. No matter how often they groomed him, he always looked like he’d come straight from licking a light socket.

  Most of the time, he acted like it, too.

  Finn’s phone chimed with a message, and when he reached to the nightstand for it, Grizz took the opportunity to pounce on his head as if it had been years since he’d seen Finn and not a few weeks.

  Breakfast is ready.

  “It must be a special occasion, Grizz.” His mom didn’t mind cooking supper most nights, but her breakfast style had always run more toward pointing in the direction of the cereal cabinet.

  Then he remembered. Today was officially Day One of Gram’s newest escapade, and the timing couldn’t have been worse.

  It was moving-out day, so of course it was going to be an unseasonably hot and humid one. By the time he was done hauling the rest of Gram’s crap to the storage pods the production crew had hidden in a part of the yard that couldn’t be seen in a wide shot of the house, he wouldn’t need baby oil to look sweaty. He was just thankful they’d already taken care of the heavy stuff.

  “We have to get up,” he told the dog, who ignored him. “Grizz, you want some bacon?”

  The dog was practically a blur as he took off toward the kitchen. If his mom hadn’t made bacon, Finn was really going to feel like a jerk.

  Luckily, as soon as he was dressed and hit the top of the stairs, Finn could smell bacon. And coffee. His stomach growled just as he stepped into the kitchen and his mom swiveled to face him, hands on her hips.

  “Did you promise this dog bacon?”

  “Guilty.” When she scowled, he held up his hands. “It’s the only way he’d let me get out of bed.”

  “He weighs fourteen pounds.”

  “But a very stubborn fourteen pounds.” He kissed his mother’s cheek and poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting at the table. “Morning, Dad.”

  “Morning. He’s getting one of your slices.”

  “Fair.” After serving himself from the bowl of scrambled eggs and grabbing toast and bacon from their serving pla
tes, he broke a bacon slice into a bunch of small pieces. If he rationed it out correctly, he could get through his breakfast without having to sacrifice a second slice to the dog.

  “You know how much I love when you two feed the dog from the table,” his mom said, but there was enough affection in her voice so Finn didn’t worry too much about it.

  “Dad started it,” he said. “Sneaking him french fries when Grizz was a pup.”

  His dad set his coffee cup down with a thump. “Do you have a license to drive that bus?”

  “He’s hardly throwing you under the bus, Joel. It’s not like I wasn’t there the first time you snuck him food under the table. Or every single time since.”

  Winking at him over a slice of toast, his dad shrugged. “How do you tell that face no?”

  “I manage.”

  Finn laughed. “You say no, but it’s kind of funny what a hard time you have getting tater tots from your fork to your mouth. You accidentally drop as many as you eat.”

  She opened her mouth, as if to deny it, and then snapped it closed again. Her pink cheeks made it clear enough she knew this was a rare argument she couldn’t win.

  When breakfast was over, Finn and his dad cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. A best-of-three round of Rock, Paper, Scissors had Dad stuck with cleaning Mom’s beloved cast-iron pan to her exacting standards, which was a relief. Finn still cringed when he thought of The Awful Scouring Pad Incident of 2002.

  Eventually the clock caught up with him and he couldn’t put it off anymore. “Time to grab my boots and my work gloves, I guess. I still can’t believe I got sucked into this.”

  “We,” his mother snapped, giving his dad a look that made it clear their current predicament was entirely his fault because it was his mother who’d gotten them into it. “Somehow your father and I got added into the mix and we’re supposed to be there, too.”

  “Apparently loving but loud families make for great television, according to Anna,” Finn said, and he wasn’t surprised when his mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t forget the loving part, okay?”

  “You know I love your grandmother, but sometimes...”

  She never finished those sentences which, all things considered, was probably for the best. “What are we going to do with Grizz?”

  “I don’t know how they’ll feel about a dog on the set,” his dad said.

  “It’s not a damn set,” his mother muttered, not quite under her breath.

  “Close enough, since anywhere my mother is standing seems to become a stage.”

  “People will be in and out of the house, carrying things,” Finn said. “Grizz underfoot is just a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “Since your grandmother is also a disaster waiting to happen, her and Grizz both being there would probably be an apocalypse in the making,” his mother said. “I’ll ask Libby to watch him for today, while we see how it goes.”

  Even if their neighbor dog-sat for them—which she did fairly often—it was going to be a very long day. His mother usually called Gram by her name and occasionally even Mom, but when she called her your mother or your grandmother, sparks were inevitably going to fly.

  Hopefully, having the camera around would keep the worst of it at bay. Yes, the entire family was annoyed with Gram at the moment. Yes, his mother and grandmother tended to butt heads at times. But when push came to shove, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her mother-in-law, and Finn was confident that included going along with the current shenanigans. Mostly confident. Fairly.

  It was going to be a very long day.

  * * *

  The first full day on location was always one of Anna’s least favorites, and it had a lot to do with having spent the night trying to readjust to sleeping in the RV after a long break in filming.

  She’d replaced the stock camper mattress with a real mattress when they bought it, but it still wasn’t her bed. And she lived alone. Though Eryn slept in the bunk over the cab at the other end, that was only twenty-six feet away or so, and Anna felt as though she woke up every time Eryn moved.

  The adjustment wouldn’t take long. She knew from experience that busy days would have her accustomed to RV living and sleeping through the night in no time. The first morning was always the hardest.

  “Coffee’s ready,” Eryn called, and Anna threw back the blankets.

  Coffee always helped.

  Thirty minutes later, she was on her second cup and almost ready to face the day. There were granola bars and bananas for breakfast, but she skipped those for now. There was a wider variety of foods in the other RV because it had a bigger fridge, and she’d probably grab something from it later.

  “So...” Eryn said, propping her elbows on the small dinette table. “Chemistry much?”

  Anna nodded. “Yeah, the Weaver family’s going to play well on TV, for sure.”

  “Cool, but I meant you and the handyman grandson.”

  “Finn?”

  “Yes, Finn. There was so much sizzle in the room I thought their antique electrical panel was finally shorting out.”

  “You’re imagining things,” Anna replied, but she could feel the heat spreading across her skin. “You know, if we hurry, we can stop and explore the town a little before we head to the inn. Maybe pick up some pastries or something.”

  “You’re trying to change the subject.”

  “Fine. We can sit here and discuss your delusions, and we’ll go straight to the house. No pastries.”

  Eryn’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a pretty evil boss. I’ll be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

  It was slightly cool when they stepped outside, but Anna had checked the forecast and knew today was going to be a scorcher.

  The motor homes blended in with the assortment of RVs parked around them in the waterfront campground. Their first RV had been wrapped with a huge Relic Rehab advertisement and they couldn’t say if it had gained them any new viewers, but they were pretty confident it was the reason somebody had broken into it and stolen their equipment.

  Now they had two motor homes—one for Anna and Eryn, and one for the guys—and they didn’t give any indication there might be anything more than vacation brochures and s’mores sticks inside. Nor had they put the show’s name on the side of the trailer towed behind the crew’s SUV. The tools inside were worth almost as much as the AV equipment in the SUV that pulled it, and they’d all be relieved when it was moved to the Weaver property today.

  Anna drove so Eryn could review the task list for the day, but it was a short drive from the campground to the municipal free parking lot, so she finished while they walked the main street. Being able to read her phone, walk and talk at the same time was one of Eryn’s most finely honed skills.

  “I think we need to keep Alice and Tess in close proximity,” Anna added when she was done. “They’re oil and water, but there’s obviously genuine affection there, so we’ll get some good footage—oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

  Eryn looked up from her phone when Anna stopped walking. “What?”

  She pointed at the sign across the street proclaiming in block letters that the cream-colored building with the pretty blue trim and attached brick garage was the home of Bishop’s Auto Care and Bakery.

  “Cars and cupcakes,” Eryn said. “I love this town.”

  “They could have separate signs. Just to... I don’t know. Not be a combination auto repair and baked goods shop?”

  “Since the apostrophe is before the s, there’s only one Bishop, though.”

  “Or maybe the owner sucks at grammar.”

  Eryn nodded. “That’s a strong possibility, since people who suck at grammar always put the apostrophe before the s.”

  “Probably should have gone with separate signs, though.”

  “Look at those cupcakes in the window. We have to go in.” Eryn was al
ready heading for the crosswalk.

  “We don’t need auto care or cupcakes,” Anna pointed out, but she followed her anyway.

  “You said we’d get pastries.”

  “I meant an apple strudel, or some other at least vaguely breakfast-related pastry.”

  “Who says cupcakes aren’t vaguely breakfast-related? Or we can get some now and save them for later.”

  Anna considered that. “But if we save them for later, we have to buy enough for everybody because we can’t leave them sitting in the car all day.”

  “We can get one and split it now,” Eryn suggested, ever the problem solver.

  As soon as she stepped through the door of the bakery, Anna was pretty sure she gained five pounds just from breathing in the aroma. The shop smelled like carbs and calories.

  A woman paused halfway through frosting a cupcake to give them a welcoming smile. “Good morning, ladies. Feel free to look at the selection and let me know if you have any questions. I’m Jenelle.”

  “Thank you.” Anna wasn’t sure how they were going to be able to choose just one. And the more they looked, the harder the decision got.

  “Hey, Mom, do you think you can watch Parker this afternoon so I can get this exhaust done? Mrs. Cloutier broke a crown and she doesn’t want to take him to the dentist with her.” A redhead wearing coveralls with Reyna stitched on the breast pocket came through a rear door, and then stopped short. “Sorry. Didn’t realize you had customers.”

  “Don’t mind us,” Anna said. “It’s going to take us five or six hours to decide.”

  “I’m always available to watch my grandson,” Jenelle said.

  “Oh, so mother-and-daughter businesses,” Anna said. “Auto care and bakery.”

  “That makes sense,” Eryn added. “Still, two Bishops, though.”

  “The apostrophe?” Reyna asked, and when they both nodded, she laughed. “If you look closely, you can see the and bakery part was added later. There used to be only one Bishop—my dad—but now it’s mine, and my mom opened the bakery and...hey, why spend money you don’t have to?”