My Favorite Mistake(24)

“Okay,” he said, turning the volume of the CD up and staring out the window. “Pie.”

“What?” Not that it wasn’t great, but I didn’t see what that had to do with anything relevant.

“Hope loves making pie. She’ll probably send you home with one. There’s a tiny apple orchard in the back of the house, and she always goes nuts in the fall, making as many pies as she can. She made so many one year, she walked around downtown handing them out to the local businesses. They started calling her ‘the pie lady.’ So, I hope you like pie.”

“What kind of a question is that? Who doesn’t like pie?”

“A very fucked-up person.”

“I guess I’m not that fucked-up, then.”

“Not even close,” he said, pushing his seat back.

I kept driving until we got to Bar Harbor. I rolled the window down to catch the salty air. There was nothing like the smell of the ocean. We’d switched the CD to Coldplay by mutual consent.

“Turn here,” he said, pointing to a road on the left. I put my turn signal on and made the turn.

“Turn here,” he said a minute later, and we made another turn and then another.

We were off the main road, and all I could see were quaint houses with little porches and cute lighthouse mailboxes and wind chimes. It looked like a really nice place. I kept going until he pointed out one last turn onto Mason Drive. I should have seen that coming.

“Here we are,” he said as I stopped the car. Oh, Jesus.

The house was effing huge. The little cottages along the rest of the road had not prepared me for this. It was at least twice, if not three times the size of my house. My eyes traveled up to count three floors. It was white, sort of Victorian looking with a huge wrap-around porch that had a handicap ramp leading up to it on one side. There was a huge red barn as well. Somehow I didn’t think there was a tractor in it. I recognized Darah’s Camry nestled between a BMW and a brand new Impala, with an Escalade on the other side.

“Shit, Hunter. You never said your family was loaded.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You never asked.”





Fourteen





The house was even more gi-huge-ic when I got out of the car and stood in front of it.

“Well, I assumed, since you drive a crappy car and couldn’t find housing that you were poor,” I said.

“Never assume, Missy. Never assume,” he said, walking toward the house, swinging the guitar case. My feet seemed to be glued to the ground. I was overtaken with a hard-to-breathe-can’t-think feeling. I was panicking.

“I love how you can punch me in the face and not bat an eyelash, but a large house makes you want to run away. It can’t hurt you, you know?” He nodded toward the front door. “Come on.”

Somehow, my feet unstuck themselves from the driveway, and I moved forward.

“Jesus, you’d think we were leading you to the guillotine.”

“Bite me,” I snapped as we stood at the front door. It had fancy swirling glass in it, and I could definitely see a chandelier. A fucking chandelier. Where there was a chandelier, there was a foyer, and a den, and spiral staircases, and taking your shoes off, and other fancy things. Not that I didn’t like fancy things, I just didn’t really belong in a house full of them.

Hunter just opened the door, calling out as he walked through.

“Anyone home?”

“Hunter? Is that you?” called out a female voice that I assumed belonged to Hope. It had a thick southern twang to it.

“Yeah, I’m here. I brought a guest.”

“Is it Taylor?”

What?

I stared at Hunter.

“I may have mentioned your name. Once or twice.”

As I tried to keep myself from craning my neck to check out the chandelier in more detail, a tall blond woman came around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel and beaming perfect white teeth. So that was where he got them from. She gave Hunter a hug, kissing him on the cheek before turning her attention to me.

“Oh my goodness, you’re as pretty as a picture.”

Her southern accent only added to the intimidation factor. Not to mention she was wearing heels as if she was born with them, and her hair and makeup looked like they’d been done by a team of professionals. She was the after picture of the before and after.

“I’m Hope. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She came at me with a hug that I had no choice but to return. Hunter must not have told her I wasn’t a hugger. Or maybe she didn’t care.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Mason.”

“Come now, didn’t Hunter tell you to call me Hope?”

“He did. I just… I don’t know,” I stuttered. Grace was not my middle name. Also, I felt the overwhelming urge to call her ma’am.

“Taylor was a little intimidated by the house,” Hunter said as I tried to give him a pinch, but he ducked out of the way and blocked me with his guitar case. Thanks a lot, dude.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You come right in,” Hope said.

I guessed I didn’t have to take off my shoes, since she was wearing hers, but the floors were so shiny, I was scared to place my unworthy feet on them.

“Hunter?” a little girl’s voice called.

“Hey, Seven!” Hunter’s face lit up as a little red-haired girl in a motorized wheelchair came down the hall. The chair was pink and had glittery stickers all over it. Nice.

“Seven, this is my friend, Taylor.” Her eyes got huge as she heard my name.

“Your name is Taylor? That’s my favorite name in the whole world.”

“Thank you,” I said, startled by both her sincerity and her wide gold-green eyes. She reminded me of Anne from Anne of Green Gables. I’d always wanted red hair.

“Harper’s favorite musician is Taylor Swift.” A girl after my own heart.

“I’m going to her concert soon,” she said.

“You are? I’m so jealous,” I said. Hunter gave me a look.

Seriously, I was. I’d just never found anyone who would go with me.

“Maybe if you’re really nice, Taylor will sing with us,” Hunter said, giving Harper a wink. She giggled and he put his guitar down to give her a hug and a kiss on her forehead, crouching down so he was at her level.

“Would you?” Her little voice was so cute, how could I say no to her? God, she’d make Hitler melt.

“Of course. I’m not a very good singer, but I’ll try.”

“Don’t listen to her. She has a beautiful voice.” How the hell would he know?

“Joe’s waiting for you in the study,” Hope said to Hunter.

“Right.”

I wondered where the study was. Maybe I could somehow excuse myself to go to the bathroom and somehow find myself there.

“Why don’t we go sit down?” Hope said, leading us into what must be the den. It had leather couches, flowers in painted vases and had a bright cheerful feel.

“I’ve heard you in the shower,” Hunter whispered in my ear as he walked beside me. His hand brushed my back, and I experienced a bad case of the goose bumps. “If you ever want to duet, you know where to find me.”

I wanted to sputter with outrage, but the thought of Hunter, in the shower… Get your mind out of the gutter, Taylor. You’re meeting his family, for Christ’s sake.

“I’ll be back,” Hunter said, winking at me before he left the room.

“Can I get you anything? How about some iced tea?” Hope said as we seated ourselves, and Harper parked her wheelchair. Hope sat down on a floral-patterned chair. No, she didn’t sit. She floated down until she was sitting. Was that something they taught in the south? If so, could I get lessons?

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

She left and it was just me and Harper. I wasn’t very good with meeting new people, but she leaned over and motioned me closer, even though we were the only two people in the room.

“Do you wanna hear a secret?” she whispered rather loudly after she looked around to make sure we were absolutely alone.

“I’d love to hear a secret,” I whispered back, cupping my hand over her ear. She giggled and did the same.

“Hunter likes you.” Aw. She was adorable.

“He does?” I said, playing along.

“A lot. A lot.”

“Like Eric loves Ariel?” There was no doubt this was a Disney girl. There was more than one Little Mermaid sticker on her chair.

“Uh huh.”

“Whoa.”

I wondered how long I could wait before I could somehow escape and find out what Hunter was up to.

Hope came back with a tray of sweating glasses, complete with sliced lemons perched on the side.

“Momma, Taylor likes The Little Mermaid,” Harper said as her mother handed her a glass and a napkin.

“She does? Well, imagine that.” Hope gave me a wink as she handed me a glass. I took a sip so I wouldn’t laugh. Delicious. Damn, this woman should have her own lifestyle show. I fiddled with my napkin and set my glass down.

“Um, where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, of course. It’s down the hall on the left. There’s a sign on the door that says powder room.”

“Thanks,” I said, escaping from the room as Harper dropped her glass and brown liquid pooled everywhere.

“Oh, Harper,” Hope said with a sigh.