Home to Hope Mountain. Joan Kilby
care of my mother. There’s not much I can do for Summer from Sydney.”
“I don’t expect you to do anything. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on. I’m trying to find her a counselor outside school.” He paused, searching for tactful wording. “Is there anything else I should know about, anything going on in your life that might be upsetting Summer?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” He’d never asked for details of her affair and he didn’t want them now—unless they were relevant to Summer. “That person you were seeing—”
“That’s over,” Diane said sharply. “And it had nothing to do with Summer. She’s fine, just moody like all teenagers. It’s hormones.”
“She won’t talk to me.”
“She barely speaks to me, either. Don’t worry about it. Listen, I’ve gotta go. The cardiologist is coming to see Mom and I want to talk to him about the operation.”
“Wait a sec. Do you have any idea when you’ll be back?”
“Recovery from this kind of operation is measured in months. Hopefully by Christmas, but I don’t know. I’m seriously considering moving back to Sydney to be closer to Mom.”
“That’s the impression I got before you left. How would you feel about putting the house up for sale once school’s out? I’d just as soon get rid of it. The fire danger makes this an unsafe area.”
“Hope Mountain’s okay once you get used to how small it is. But do what you like. I’m over the place.”
She’d bought the property on a whim and abandoned it without a second thought. Even though her change of heart fell in line with his plans, he asked, “What about Summer? She seems attached to the town, and she’s desperate for a horse.”
“She’ll love Sydney, too. Once she sees the beaches she’ll forget all about horses. Oh, there’s the cardiologist. Say hi to Summer for me and tell her I’ll call her soon.”
Adam said goodbye and hung up. He doubted Summer would forget her love for horses that quickly. Diane had been less than helpful where their daughter was concerned, but he supposed she was preoccupied with her mother. At least he had her blessing to sell the property.
He went inside the grocery store and pushed his shopping cart around the aisles, stocking up on fresh fruit and vegetables and consulting his list for staples they were low on. He wasn’t much of a cook but he would have to learn. Man could not live on Diet Delight alone.
He threw in a couple of frozen pizzas and some chips to keep Summer happy and on impulse added extra items to drop off at the distribution center. At last he proceeded to the checkout.
“Hey, how are you goin’?” The thirty-something woman at the till had a high black ponytail, bright red lipstick and a cheerful smile. Her name tag read Belinda.
“Not bad, Belinda. Yourself?” He unloaded the groceries methodically, putting the cold things together, next the cans and finally the fruit and vegetables.
“Oh, I’m okay. Or I will be once I sell my house and blow this crazy pop stand.”
Ah, someone else besides him who didn’t go into raptures about Hope Mountain. “You don’t like it here?”
She snorted. “It’s the pits. What’s so beautiful about burned-up mountains?”
“The fire danger’s a real concern,” Adam agreed.
“You’re telling me. Every house on our block went up in flames except ours. My husband went out and bought ten lottery tickets. Me, I called Mort.”
“Who’s Mort?”
“The real estate agent. Thank God his office didn’t burn. I listed our house first thing. Bob, my husband, thinks I’m a coward. I told him, ‘You can stay but I’m getting out.’”
Diane had been working part-time for a local Realtor before she’d gone to Sydney—Mort must have been her boss. “Well, Belinda, I happen to think you’re smart for not wanting to live in a fire-prone region.”
“Thanks very much. You’re pretty smart yourself.” She scanned a box of cereal and bagged it. “Are you a local? I figure you must be with all the groceries you’re buying. No one buys four bags of sugar for the weekend. But if you don’t know Mort...” She trailed off, waiting for an explanation.
“I live here for now.”
“How long are you staying?” Belinda seemed to have all the time in the world to chat. And apparently she thought he did, too.
“I don’t know. Four or five months. Six tops.”
She swung the filled bag over to the loading area and started on the next. “I’d say that makes you a local.”
“No, really, I’m just passing through.”
She cocked her head with an infectious grin. “But slowly.”
He smiled back at her. “Yeah, slowly.”
Too slowly for his liking. In business he was the hare, not the tortoise. He moved quickly and decisively. Now he had to put on the brakes and wait for Summer to heal.
Belinda cracked her gum. “So what’s the deal, are you trying to sell your house and not getting any bites? Join the club.”
Now she had his attention. “Are that many people leaving? There seems to be a lot of building going on.”
“People are either determined to stay or determined to leave. It all depends. So what’s holding you up?”
“It’s complicated.” Did people really spill their guts to complete strangers in this town? He never had conversations like this with the guy at the convenience store below his apartment building. He liked Belinda all right, but he wasn’t sure he wanted a heart-to-heart with her.
“Hold your cards close to your chest, don’t you? That’s okay. We all got personal shit going on. I won’t even ask you about all the sugar.”
Adam smiled. “Two bags for me. Two for a friend.”
“Sweet on her, are ya?” Belinda winked at him.
He chuckled. Not likely.
“If you ask me,” Belinda went on. “The government should buy us all out and bulldoze the town. Everyone should move someplace where the firefighters have a chance to put out the fire and where residents can get out safely. There’s only one road in and out of this place. It was cut off in three spots. People were trapped.”
“But there were warnings of extreme fire danger,” Adam said. “People should have left earlier.”
“Maybe so. But folks have a legal right to stay and defend their property.” Belinda stacked the last grocery bag in the cart and rang up the total. “That’ll be one hundred and fifty-five dollars and twenty-eight cents. Any cash out?”
Adam handed over his credit card, then checked his wallet. He had only sixty dollars on him. “I’ll have an extra hundred, thanks.”
She rang it through and passed him two fifty-dollar bills. Adam dropped them both into the bushfire rebuilding donation jar on the counter. “I can’t believe the town is relying on spare change to fund a new community center.”
“There’s a long list of stuff that needs replacing. The primary school, the maternal health clinic, half the police station...” Belinda shrugged. “It’s all going to take time, I guess. They have to start somewhere.”
He threw in another fifty from his wallet, leaving himself ten dollars.
Belinda’s eyes widened. “Thanks, er...”
“Adam.” He gathered up his bags. “Nice to meet you, Belinda.”
“Same.”