Page 59 of Save the Date
It looked like the barn had become home to anything and everything the Strayhorns owned that was too broken to use but too valued to discard. Cardboard boxes were stacked in corners, there was a profusion of tools, tires, old saddles, unidentified agricultural machinery, discarded appliances, broken furniture, and even a faded red Mustang, sans tires, perched on jacks. Everything was coated with a thick film of dust, and the overhead corners were festooned with cobwebs.
“That’s Mitch’s first car,” Libba said, pointing at the Mustang. “He swears he’s going to restore it someday. Maybe when he retires. We’ll see. The man doesn’t know the first thing about cars or engines.” She turned slowly and pointed out other family mementos. “Harris’s crib. The first dryer I ever owned. My mother-in-law’s favorite riding lawn mower.” She turned to Cara with a sheepish grin. “See? Random crap. Living this far out in the country, it’s easier to just stick stuff in the barn than it is to have it hauled off to the dump.
“Mitch would love to have everything in here cleared out. Except the Mustang. That’s the holy of holies. But everything else?” She shrugged. “Time to let go of all of it.”
“Except Harris’s crib,” Cara guessed.
“Precisely.”
Libba was walking around the barn, examining the walls. “Don’t know how long this thing has been standing. Mitch’s mom said it was here when she moved to Cabin Creek. And we did keep the horses here for years.” She glanced up at the glints of daylight.
“Have to get a new roof. Otherwise, I think this thing could probably stand another seventy-five years.”
It was a big barn, and roofs, Cara knew, were expensive.
“Is that something you’d want to undertake? With all the other expenses with the wedding?”
“We’d have to do it sooner or later, if we want the barn to keep standing,” Libba said. “Which we do. Only problem is, getting somebody reliable over here to do the work. With the economy like it’s been, you’d think people would be eager for a job, but that’s not how it is out here. The last work we had done here? I wanted to rip out the old tub in our master bath and put in a nice big glass-walled shower. Like you see in all the magazines.” She snorted in disgust. “The jacklegs we hired took six months, screwed it up so bad, Mitch kicked ’em out before the tile was even grouted. We still can’t use that shower.”
“I might have an idea,” Cara said slowly. “I know a contractor in Savannah… all they do is historic-restoration work. I suppose that would include roofs.…”
“I’d love to talk to them. Maybe they could take care of the other stuff we want to do before the wedding too. See about those leaky windows in the ballroom, get the barn fixed up.”
“It’s the Finnerty brothers,” Cara said. “I just did a wedding for Ryan Finnerty, the younger of the two brothers. He married Torie Fanning.”
“Finnerty? From Savannah? We know the Finnertys. Been knowing ’em for years. I didn’t realize they were contractors.”
“I can get you their number. They haven’t done any work for me personally, but I’m sure it would be easy enough to check their references.”
“I wouldn’t worry about references with those boys,” Libba said. She nodded emphatically. “I’ll call their mom tonight.” She looked pleased with herself. “Yes sir. Fix this place up nice.”
“Would you keep horses here again?” Cara asked.
“No. We’ve got the new stables for them.” Libba’s face took on a wistful quality. “This old barn has a lot of good memories for our family. Holly and her friends played house up in the loft. Harris and his buddies would play out here, on rainy days. It was their secret clubhouse, their army fort. He was in a kind of garage band in high school. They were awful! I wouldn’t let ’em play in the house, so they practiced out here. Mitch said he and his brothers did the same thing when they were kids.” She turned to Cara.
“Someday, I hope, we’ll move Harris’s crib back into the big house. And this barn will be full of my grandbabies, playing hide-and-go-seek, and pirate and bad garage rock.
“That is,” she said, pulling a face, “if Harris and Brooke can slow down enough eventually to give me those grandbabies while I’m still young enough to enjoy them.”
Cara reached out and squeezed Libba’s hand. “I hope they will.”
Libba sighed, and the two women picked their way through debris toward the door.
By now, both their faces were coated with a sheen of perspiration.
Libba mopped her forehead with a blue bandanna. “You can see how hot it is in here right now, and it’s only May. How are we gonna get this place cooled down enough come July?”
“It’s actually not that difficult,” Cara said. “We do tons of weddings in tents and all kinds of outbuildings these days. We’ll rent generators and big air-conditioning units.”
“Really?” Libba looked impressed. “You can air-condition a barn?”
“I did the flowers for a wedding in an airplane hangar last August,” Cara assured her. “With enough money, you can do just about anything.”
“One thing we know,” Libba said with a laugh. “Gordon Trapnell has more than enough money. And he’s bound and determined to spend it on this wedding. But you know what? I don’t want to rent air conditioners. Let’s just buy us a new system. That way we don’t have to give it back. And I don’t have to feel beholden to Gordon or Patricia.”
24
Jack ran past the town house on Jones Street three times the following Sunday morning before he finally worked up the nerve to stop.
