A Building Passion: DIY, #1

A BUILDING PASSION

DIY Book 1

By Sandra Kyle

Copyright 2016 Sandra Kyle

Editor:  Devin Govaere

Cover Art:  Sandra Kyle

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

READ MORE FROM SANDRA KYLE

Dedication

FOR MY HUSBAND, WHO loves to work on home improvement projects, the most romantic and awesome do-it-yourselfer I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Chapter 1

MAY

The déjà vu feeling of the city street caused the hairs on her arm to stand up straight. A metallic squeak crawled through her ear. Gotta grease that damn hinge. Vanessa slammed the driver’s side door of her truck shut. A push by her hip ensured its closure.

The time on her phone read 2:24 p.m. She’d arrived for the appointment early. Turns out she’d incorrectly guessed the eager agent would beat her to the location. The woman she’d spoken to practically salivated on the other end of the call that morning. Out-of-town buyer would probably do that to a realtor looking to offload this piece of crap.

The ad had described the shabby duplex to a tee. Unfortunately. Unkempt grass and weeds adorned the front lawn. A cracked stone walkway meant to beckon someone inside only drove people away in her estimation. She reached out to touch the palm in front of the porch, then decided against it. Windows occupied almost every inch of the exterior walls from top floor to bottom. The structural integrity of the two-story porch appeared questionable. Wonder how deep the concrete footing is under those brick columns? Of course, I’m being way too positive assuming there’s even a proper foundation. When she’d read the property listing in the local morning paper, the promise of current rental income had enticed her to take a look in person.

Bars on the front screen doors screamed unsafe neighborhood. She walked back to her truck and leaned against the side of the hood. She studied the surroundings. Steady vehicle traffic passed the corner house hanging by the intersection. Faded bricks comprised the sidewalk in a sloppy herringbone pattern no more than three feet in width.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. The T-shirt stuck to her skin. She pulled at the boat-neck collar and held it a couple inches away from her chest. Damn, they weren’t kidding about the humidity. She reconsidered hopping back into her truck and driving off. Maybe Savannah wasn’t the best idea. The quick tap of a car horn shot her head toward the street.

Yoo hoo! Are you Vanessa? The plump female behind the subcompact’s steering wheel waved a hand through the open car window.

Yes.

Yay! Regina, we spoke on the phone! The driver behind her blared his own horn. Let me park and I’ll be with you in a second!

Vanessa’s eyes widened when the real estate agent made an illegal U-turn in the intersection to park on the opposite street side. Should I even point out the NO PARKING sign to her? The woman got out of her car and carried a bunch of paperwork stuffed in a manila folder. She hurried across the street. An outstretched hand, bedazzled with rings and bracelets, offered itself in a pleasant gesture.

I am so happy you called me this morning! The exclamatory way of speaking seemed normal for this flushed female. She squinted in the sunlight and fanned her red face.

Vanessa nodded back and managed a forced smile.

Sorry I had to make you wait until this afternoon! We have to alert tenants of impending visits so we can show the whole interior!

It’s no problem. I understand.

Regina adjusted the bag’s strap that hung from her shoulder. Her perfume, heavily laden, filled Vanessa’s nose with the scent of lavender. I want to ask you a ton of questions! We can walk and talk while I show you the place! Another wave summoned Vanessa. She followed the lady in the light pink business suit up three steps to the front door. A quick rifle through papers and then punching of keys on the padlock allowed them entrance. So, as I told you over the phone, this is a duplex! This side is vacant at the moment.

Vanessa removed her sunglasses, tucking them into her collar, and tried to hide the cringe. There were pieces of cream-colored plaster on the floor by the walls.

There are hardwood floors throughout! Regina beamed. The aged and neglected wood creaked beneath their feet. Cautious steps toward the fireplace hoped to provide further inspection. Regina spoke before Vanessa could get too close. Unfortunately, the fireplace has been closed up and doesn’t work currently. But I’m sure it could be fixed.

I’m sure it could. Vanessa noted the whitewashed craftsman-style doors. How old is the place again?

Ummm, let me see. Regina pulled out a sheet of paper. It says here it was built around 1920.

Vanessa wandered through another room. The black-and-white tile of the kitchen caught her eye immediately. The house I grew up in had the same floor.

Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?

Born and raised in Maryland. Headed off to Virginia for college. Been there ever since.

What brings you to Georgia?

Is there a bathroom? Vanessa sidestepped the question.

Of course! Regina looked unfazed by the dodge. Her permanent smile fell only a millimeter or two. Right up the stairs!

Would it be all right if I checked the rest of it out on my own?

No problem! I will be right outside, and then, if you like, we can take a quick peek at the tenant’s side.

Sounds good. Thanks. Vanessa waited for Regina to bob jovially out of the house. The front door groaned shut. She took in the aspects of the kitchen in beautiful silence. Holding her breath, she opened the fridge door. A quick release of carbon dioxide and oxygen occurred. An empty and relatively smudge-free interior. She stuck her head into the appliance’s interior and breathed in deliberately. Oh my God. It could actually be usable.

The oven had seen better days, however. Grease marks covered the stovetop. Might be able to salvage that. Not like I’ll be cooking for more than me anytime soon. She sighed and pushed away those thoughts.

The neighbor’s backyard provided a lovely view from the windows. At least this side isn’t right off the street. Maybe a small table right here to take advantage of sunlight in the morning? Her eyes closed. She tried to imagine the smell of just-brewed coffee, but only a hint of mildew entered her nostrils after another deep inhale.

She gazed out the windows at the neighbor’s yard. A meticulously kept garden contrasted with the concrete in the back of this home. She imagined them sitting out on their veranda to take tea in the afternoon. Maybe they’re a middle-aged childless couple or empty nesters. Doesn’t look like they have any dogs that would mess up those rose bushes. Some hydrangeas in containers would be wonderful out here. Brian hates them, especially the ones he said looked like dyed popcorn balls. Yep, we’ll go with hydrangeas. Big pink ones.

She meandered out of the kitchen and back into the living room. She pounded her heel against the floor in various spots. Doesn’t sound too hollow under there. Might have done a decent job with the structure and frame spacing. Dad always says judge a house by its bones and not the skin. Vanessa methodically took her time and hopped once up each step on her way to the second floor. The stair hallway measured narrower than today’s standard. With her average height, she still had to be mindful of the corner leading up so as not to bump her head.

A constricted hall on the top floor led first to a bathroom directly over the kitchen. Oh, the 70s. What were you thinking? It’s like Aquaman’s wet dream in here. The pedestal sink, toilet, and tub assaulted her vision in fluorescent blue-green ceramic. Thankfully, the tile on the floor and walls was in a neutral tan shade. She opened the faucets in the sink and tub full blast and then flushed the toilet for a water check. Not bad. She sighed, turned off the water, and walked out of the room. At least it has decent water pressure.

The other two rooms were typical. She checked off the tiny closets in each one. Vanessa peered out the windows of the bedroom that looked out onto the street. She spotted Regina below her vantage point on the sidewalk chatting at a man wearing a fedora. Her hands flailed about, and she pointed inside. The man interjected something. Vanessa could not make out what they discussed. When he looked up for a second, she saw the matured face of a black man wearing a crisp white shirt and dark sunglasses. I’ll be fodder for the local gossip mill for a while.

WHAT’S THE CURRENT rent for this side? Vanessa waited patiently behind Regina while she punched in the keys on the second entry pad.

I can check that for you in just a second, sweetie. The third try proved the charm. Ah! This one is always a bit testy. She popped the door open. I think the tenant may have fiddled with... Regina’s mouth hung open.

Someone obviously didn’t get the memo about tidying up for guests. Vanessa couldn’t help but smile at the bright and vibrant colors that exploded from every space. Jewel tones of red, blue, orange, and green fabric draped dreamily from the windows. The deep rich cherry furniture, an eclectic mismatch of various centuries, harmonized the space. Takeout and pizza boxes littered the floor and coffee table. Laundry had been piled up in the middle of the room.

I’m sooo sorry about this!

Vanessa waved a hand. Can’t tell someone how to live, right?

Regina huffed. No. And, apparently, being courteous and helpful is no longer in vogue for some people.

A sound from upstairs got their attention. Running water? Vanessa’s eyes darted around the room. Is someone here?

Let’s hope not! Her cheery disposition reemerged.

You know, if this is a bad time, I can always come back. Vanessa backed toward the front door.

Regina clamped her sweaty palm over Vanessa’s wrist. No! It’s fine! The smile faded. I would so appreciate you staying and looking around some more. She released her hand and pled with her eyes.

The water turned off, and Vanessa discerned the sound of a shower curtain moving across a rod. Then, a vocal serenade drifted down the steps.

For Pete’s sake. Regina’s head fell. She marched to the bottom of the stairwell, her purple pumps pounding. She screamed, causing Vanessa to jump. Nathaniel Augusta Carter! You better not come down here in only your skivvies!

Hush, Regina, darling! I know what the sight of me half-nekked would do to you. A throaty laugh followed the comment.

Don’t be ornery! I’m showing the place!

Hold on, I’ll make myself presentable! I have work in fifteen minutes!

Regina mumbled to Vanessa, At least he’s worried about making something presentable. She made a sweeping motion with her hand. Feel free to look around down here until His Majesty finishes upstairs!

Vanessa felt as if she’d stepped into the taping of some weird sitcom. To avoid hearing further complaints, she bounded over the clothes piles and slid into the kitchen. In the middle of the room sat a salon chair. Hair care products and tools crammed onto the tiny counter next to a stove and fridge. A high-top table held necessities, namely bottles of whiskey and rum.

Orange rolling shades finished with beaded fringe outfitted the windows. The back door, painted red along with the rest of the kitchen, held a beautiful stained-glass window with panes that formed lilies.

Well, ain’t you the sweetest little thing? Vanessa grinned uncontrollably, greeted by an ebony-skinned being towering over six feet. His short dread hairstyle brushed against the top of the kitchen doorframe. He extended a hand. Nate.

She shook his hand. Vanessa. Nice to meet you. This is your place?

Guilty! He waved a hand about the room. Sorry I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got to rush off to work. He pointed to his black head-to-toe attire. Waiter at The Beacon Bar. He eyed her up and down. Thinkin’ of buyin’, huh?

She shrugged. Maybe.

Well, if you do, maybe we can work out a reduction in rent for my unlimited hair styling services. He pulled out a business card from his pant pocket and gave it to her. Nate’s Knots and Napes. I do all kinds of hair, men and women, so don’t get put off by the name. Yours is to die for! I can tell even with it in that ponytail. He frowned. You probably don’t do a lot with it, right?

Well...

Not going to scare you away, sweetie. He raised his hands. Only if you’d like me to have a go at those locks of lovely. Gotta go! He pranced toward the front and kissed Regina on the cheek. She smacked his butt with the folder in her hand, and he squealed his way out the door.

Vanessa leaned in the kitchen doorway. Regina sighed. I’m guessing you’ll need time to think about it after all of that?

You said $145,000 over the phone?

Yes.

Any wiggle room in the price?

Regina’s eyes lit up. I can approach the seller with an offer!

Vanessa smiled. Let’s give it a go, then.

Chapter 2

SLICK BASTARD. Vanessa shook her head when the little Brian blip finally popped up on her phone’s location app. The stakeout had been a long but necessary one for the plan to fall in place. With the Sunday afternoon traffic, he would arrive in about a half hour. She tapped the power button on her phone. The screen went blank.

Her fingers gripped and released the steering wheel. This is it. The past month, and all of her activities within it, had led up to what would occur in the first floor parking garage of their midtown Atlanta condo.

Looking back, she never should have accepted the marriage proposal that came along with Brian’s new job position. He’d told her how great everything would be if she came with him to Georgia. She truly believed he meant it when he slipped the large engagement ring on her finger. Over the course of their six-year relationship, Vanessa had given Brian the lead in designing the future for them both. Brian took care of the big-picture thinking exceptionally well all of the time. She much rather enjoyed focusing on her little DIY projects around their tiny ranch in Virginia. The daily responsibilities at the small accounting firm where she worked and the disruptions created by her father were enough to manage.

Brian had taken care of all of the details with the move to Atlanta last year. He took it upon himself to find her leads for accounting jobs. He pulled some strings with his connections to secure her one soon after they got there. In the beginning she missed not having any fixer-upper projects at the condo. Brian convinced her not worrying about home maintenance would be great and give her lots of free time.

Brian’s workload had increased dramatically over the past few months, an inevitability Brian had warned her about. The more he worked, the better off they would be. Vanessa knew how much it meant for him to succeed in the banking industry and follow in his father’s footsteps. Make Dad proud. Mr. Lancaster reminded his son to do that constantly. She used to express sympathy and supported Brian when he attempted to do just that. Used to.

She closed her eyes and breathed in slow and deep. A little over four weeks ago everything had changed. The scene that began it all replayed in her mind. It was a memory she wished to wipe from her mind.

Well, hello, Ms. Vanessa. What a pleasant surprise. Jimmy looked up at the bag of takeout she plopped on the security counter. You shouldn’t have. I’m starving. Vanessa smiled at the expected statement. She opened the bag and pulled out a smaller one, dropping it on the desk beside where Jimmy sat.

I was kidding. His tired face, illuminated by the four video surveillance monitors, displayed a slight frown.

You say that now. She grinned. Sorry. I didn’t have time to make any brownies. This is an impromptu visit. Do you like Indian? I wasn’t sure, so I got you some basic stuff. Vegetable fritters and potato patties.

Thank you, though my wife wouldn’t approve. He patted the stomach straining against the buttons of his gray uniform shirt.

I won’t say anything if you don’t. Brian said he would be working late. I didn’t miss him, did I?

Jimmy tapped a chubby finger against the sign-in clipboard. Vanessa nodded and added her signature while he looked up the staff information. Nope. Mr. Lancaster’s still here. Go on up.

Thanks. She grabbed the food brought to surprise her fiancé after a long day at the office.

With a mouth full of fritters, he responded, We’ll have to do this again soon.

The slam of a car door echoing in the garage jolted Vanessa out of the memory. She sat in her truck and sucked the last bit of diet soda out of her to-go mug. Jimmy is going to be one of the things I’ll miss in Atlanta.  She stared intently at the garage entrance. Any minute now. She got suspicious looks from tenants heading out of the building. Apparently, no one around here ate fast food in their cars. Guess only trophy wives with junk food addictions are caught doing such things in this part of Atlanta. Vanessa had no intention of becoming one of those.

She tossed the empty food bag in the back seat of the cab. She scanned the three pieces of luggage the bag fell against, certain she’d packed everything important. Brian will be in for a surprise when he opens the door to the condo. Right before he’d left last week for his business trip, Vanessa had taken photos of almost all of the big and non-essential pieces of furniture that she brought from Virginia. Anything she couldn’t fit in the bed of her truck.

She posted those photos onto GreggsList, and forty-eight hours later, all of the listed furniture had left the condo, sold to happy buyers. A bit of pity forced her to leave him his big screen TV and loveseat. She hated the bedroom suite he’d picked out and didn’t bother to try and take that with her. He can fuck her on that bed all he wants now.

The elevator dinged quietly and opened its doors to the nineteenth floor of Exetus Financial’s office building. Vanessa traveled the carpeted hallway a handful of times a month to visit Brian. She decided she would surprise him tonight. He sounded exhausted in the voicemail left on her phone a couple hours ago. Not knowing when he would make it home, or if he had even eaten, she went to his favorite Indian restaurant to pick up dinner for him.

She peeked into the glass doors of the offices she passed. The gray night sky flooded through windows and cast a shadowy haze over areas bustling with activity during the day. In each office she saw a copycat of the others: the same desk in the same position, with the same desktop computer tilted in exactly the same direction.

Brian’s office was at the end of the long hallway. She noticed the warm amber light shining through his office door the closer she approached. A shadow moved back and forth against the lighted carpet. She hoped he hadn’t already eaten. It would be nice to sit and have dinner with him to catch up. At least a week had gone by, she recalled, since they’d eaten together.

The familiar noise stopped her steps before she