Dreams of Fire (Maple Hill Chronicles Book 1) Read Free Page B

cul-de-sac.
    “Hi! You found the place okay?” She said with a shy smile.  
    “Yes, ma’am,” the taller of the two rumbled in reply. His maroon shirt had the name “Joe” stitched on the left breast.
    Geoffrey would never have stooped to fraternize with blue-collar working class types, but she sympathized with their jobs and always talked comfortably with them when he wasn’t looking. It had been a source of annoyance for him. She smiled again more broadly. “It’s pretty close to lunch time. Do you want to eat something before you unload? It’s a little cooler inside, and there’s a bathroom if you need it.”  
    Joe hesitated a moment then said, “That would be very nice.” Without a word the other man, “Bobby,” returned to the truck and brought back a couple of paper bags and thermoses. Marianne invited them in and went out to her own car to grab her own lunch.  
    The movers were sitting on the floor in the living room with their backs to the north wall, consuming large shapeless sandwiches. Marianne smiled at them politely and sat down on the floor as well to eat her lunch. They ate in awkward silence for a little before Marianne said, “Did you have any trouble getting up here?”
    Joe answered, “Nope. GPS got us here fine. No traffic on the Thruway to speak of.” He ate a few more bites and surveyed the living room. “Nice looking house,” he said noncommittally.
    “Thanks. It seems very nice,” she replied.
    “It’s not yours?”
    “Well, I’m fixing it up a bit for a friend of the family in exchange for rent.”
    He looked around again, chewing thoughtfully. Marianne surreptitiously observed the men. Joe was somewhere between thirty and fifty and had a touch of the Old World about his features, someplace Slavic maybe, she thought. She could imagine him growing up with a stern Polish or Ukrainian grandmamma and smiled at the fleeting image of a big, strong, doughy woman, arms crossed over a faded flower print dress and floury apron. Joe’s arms were bulky and solid, looking like he could bench press three hundred pounds without breaking a sweat.  
    Bobby was younger, maybe in his thirties, and was possibly of Irish descent, given the vivid red stubble over the crown of his head and freckles across his face. His arms looked less bulky than his partner’s, so she guessed he was the wiry type. They both looked like they’d grown up in the moving business and moved a lot of stuff in their lives.
    “You going to be here long?” Joe asked between bites.
    “I don’t know. Maybe until I find something better.” She’d learned to banter a little with tradesmen over the years, but this seemed unusually personal.
    He considered this, his features impassive. Bobby, who had been silent all this time, nudged him slightly. Finally, Joe shrugged a little. “You mind if we give you some free advice?”
    Marianne raised her eyebrows and said, “Okay. I guess not.”
    “We been in this business a long time, seen a lot of places. We’ve developed a feeling about things. Mostly they don’t feel like anything. Sometimes, though, they don’t feel…right. You look like a nice lady, and we’d hate to leave without saying anything. But, this place doesn’t have a good feel to it.”
    With his pronouncement, Marianne felt her stomach drop a little. It was uncanny having him voice her own uncertainty. “Really? How bad do you think it is?” She asked in dismay.
    He shook his head. “Not Poltergeist bad. Just doesn’t have a good vibe.”
    “Like people cried here a lot,” she said quietly.
    They both nodded.
    She sighed unhappily, “Well, unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of choices. I can’t really go back to the city and can’t afford a lot of rent right now.”
    “So, you still want us to unload your furniture?”  
    “Yeah,” she said with another sigh. “Thanks for the advice. Let’s hope it’s not too bad. Maybe some fresh paint and cleaning will do wonders.” She tried