Jonquils for Jax (Blueberry Lane 3 - The Rousseaus #1) - Katy Regnery Page 0,74
Philadelphia.”
“Dang, you adopted some Northern ways, son, barely restin’ a moment to breathe.”
“Flint?” said Gard, trying for a more patient tone. “Please make the call?”
“…in a danged rush,” said Flint under his breath, dialing the number of Liliane Rousseau’s real estate broker in Pennsylvania. “Hello? Well, hello, there. Flannery Lenox here.” He chuckled. “Aren’t you sweet to remember me?” More chuckling, which just about made steam pour from Gard’s ears. “That client I called you about yesterday…well, he’s ready to make an offer, but I should warn you, it’s under the askin’ price.” Flint paused, nodding at whatever the broker was saying as he turned to take an incoming fax off the machine. “Yes, ma’am, I have the new appraisal here. Uh-huh. I can fax it up to your office. Looks like the property has devalued a bit over the past thirty years. Bull market.” He turned back to the machine, slipped the fax in the top tray, and dialed a number. “Comin’ to you right now. Appraiser’s the one you recommended.” He paused again, looking at Gard as he listened. “We’re thinkin’ six as-is, contents included. Yes, ma’am. Fifty percent down.” He raised an eyebrow and his mouth wobbled into a smile. “I know twenty percent is customary, but my buyer is…motivated. He’s set on fifty. She does, huh? Tell her Gardener Pierre Thibodeaux of the Nawlins Thibodeauxs. Yes, ma’am. Fine Acadian family.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Buyer says he needs an answer today, so would you be a darlin’ and give her a call? I know, I know, but he’s eager to get matters settled. Uh-huh. Bindin’ escrow agreement today. Tomorrow at the latest.” He looked up at Gard and shrugged, then suddenly his face brightened. “Well, that’s just fine. We’ll wait to hear from you. Thank you, kindly. Uh-huh. Bye now.”
He hung up the phone and gave Gard a sour look. “She’s callin’ the Rousseau woman in Paris, and she’ll call us back after they’ve spoken.”
Gard nodded. “That’s fine. You think she’ll call back today?”
“Can’t tell what she’ll do, but why don’t you go visit with your mama a spell and I’ll call you if she agrees.”
Standing up, Gard offered his hand to Flint. “Thanks for this.”
Flint frowned at him but took his hand. “Never did understand why you wanted to put down roots up there, Gard. This is a big commitment, to buy a house.”
“I know what I’m doin’, Flint.”
“Well, I surely hope so. You’re going to deplete damn near all of your trust, and you’ll be saddled with a thirty-year mortgage, taxes, maintenance. Some might call this insanity, son.”
Gard put his hands on his hips and grinned. “How much you love Miss Maisy?”
Flint lifted his jowly chin, pointing a finger at Gard. “You know how I feel about that woman. Met Maisy-Jane on a Tuesday. Proposed on a Wednesday. Had to wait a danged year for her to say yes, but I never wavered. Not once. She was it for me, and I knew it from the word go.”
“Some might call that insanity, son,” he said quietly.
“Dang it, but you always had a smart mouth,” said Flint, shaking his head back and forth. “Go on and get out of here. I’ll call you if she says yes.”
“Call me anyway, Flint.”
“How high you willin’ to go, Gardener?”
“As high as it takes, sir. That house is mine.”
Flint nodded. “I hope she’s worth it.”
“She is, Flint,” he said, without a hint of doubt in his heart or mind. “She surely is.”
***
By Friday, the fourth morning of Gard’s absence, Jax started to feel uneasy about him. A night in New Orleans had turned into two, into three, and damn it, but she needed him. Her mother had sent a terse e-mail advising her that tomorrow the men were coming to turn off the water, electricity, and gas, and a moving company was scheduled to start moving the furniture to a storage unit near Philadelphia until Liliane could decide what was to be done with it.
Tonight was Skye Winslow’s party. Tomorrow morning, she’d move in with Mad.
But the longer she went without seeing Gard, the more disconnected she felt from him, and there were even moments when she wondered if he’d gotten what he wanted from her, had some fun, and now moved on. Her heart splintered to imagine that their exchanges of love hadn’t meant anything to him, and it didn’t feel right to even wonder about it. She’d looked into his eyes as they’d shared