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When I had first come back to the cabin, a little over a decade ago now, this place had practically been reclaimed by the land. Though it had never been in peak condition, even when Rain and I used to visit, it had gone downhill from there. It leaked and was missing sections of the roof. I had been almost destitute, arriving with just shy of a hundred bucks that had accumulated in my account at the jail over the six months during which I had been a guest of Houston County, Texas. What I had been doing in the months before that, between when I had left Muskrat Creek and woken up behind bars, was anyone’s guess, including my own.
I had shown up on my father’s doorstep looking like a skeleton, and he made assumptions that may or may not have been true. He’d believed that I was still using and wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn’t say I blamed him, but I didn’t know what else to do, where else to go. I went to the diner to grab a burger and try to think my way through things, and that’s where I ran into Leigha, sitting at a nearby table with a slice of pie and a cup of coffee.
“Jon, is that you?”
“Yes, Ms. Harper. How are you?”
“I can’t complain. You look a fright, son. Come sit with me and tell me what’s happened to you.”
That’s just what I did. I didn’t expect her help or sympathy. I just needed a friendly ear. I told her everything over the burger and fries I ordered with what precious money I had. When we were done with our food and our chat, she stood and dropped some cash on the table.
“I’ve got this, Jon. Come on and let’s get you home.”
“Dad doesn’t want me there,” I said, thinking she had missed that part of my story.
“My home, Jon. You’re always welcome at my house. In fact, I think I can put you to work, if you’re interested. For now, you just look like you need a shower and some sleep.”
It was true. I had been put on a bus from Texas to Georgia and barely eaten or slept for days. I’d never felt so lost or so tired in my life. I was hesitant to go home with her, given who she was, and she must have sensed my hesitation.
“Rain is in California. She won’t be there.”
“Thank you, Ms. Harper.”
“I think you might as well get used to calling me Leigha.”
She drove me to her house and put me up in the guest room, loaning me some of Mr. Harper’s pajamas and old clothes. It was all outdated, but it fit and I didn’t much care how I looked. The first two days consisted of me mostly sleeping and eating the meals she prepared, but by day three, she had set out a plan to get me on my feet.
“I could use a few repairs around here, Jon. How are you with a hammer and nails?”
“I’m all right. I took a couple years of shop in school.”
“How would you feel about being my new handyman, in exchange for room and board, plus a few bucks to get on your feet?”
“That would be amazing, Ms. Harper.”
“Leigha,” she corrected.
“Leigha,” I said, feeling a sense of gratitude that I knew I would never be able to express.
After several weeks of working on the house and fixing some minor problems, many of which I suspected weren’t so much necessary as they were to keep me busy, she suggested I fix up the old cabin for myself.
“I’d love to, but I can’t afford what it would take to get that old place livable, I’m afraid.”
“Let me see what I can do about that. Go down there tomorrow, and let me know what you think you’ll need to fix it up,” she said.
I did as she asked and gave her a figure. Now that I’d seen the numbers on the lien Bertha Simms was holding, the amount looked extremely familiar. I understood now that Leigha had taken out a small private loan to get me the money to fix up that cabin. At the time, I hadn’t questioned where the money had come from, and several years later, after I had flipped a couple of houses, when I bought that small section of property from her, I paid a bit over her asking price to cover what she had originally given me to fix it up. She had deeded it to me but never paid off the lien held by Bertha. I could only assume it was because the loan had been made by a third party who was deceased at that point, and she had no idea that Bertha had bought the loan from him. She most likely thought it was overcome by events, as they say. There was no way to know for sure, now that she was gone.
