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© 2006, Pepper
Espinoza Reviews For THE PUMPKIN HOUSE by Pepper Espinoza "Pepper Espinoza has written a
very moving story with The Pumpkin House. The Pumpkin House is an emotional
story that will have the readers panting for more. Ms. Espinoza has
written a hero that we can relate too and a heroine that wakes up and
takes charge of her life." Ms. Espinoza creates a very emotional story about a second chance at love. The characters are very believable and the situation is realistic...THE PUMPKIN HOUSE is a great story about second chances and redemption. Sample Chapter For THE PUMPKIN HOUSE by Pepper Espinoza Peter received the email from his wife just before lunch, but he didn’t get around to opening it until after his third cigarette break, just before four. Expecting to see a simple request to stop at the grocery store, or perhaps to pick up her clothes from the cleaners, it took several readings before the true contents sunk in. He understood what each word meant, but he couldn’t make sense of the whole. “Julie, can you come in here for a moment?” Peter said into his intercom. “Yes, Mr. Gourd.” The young blonde bustled in, a notepad in one hand, a pen in the other. “What can I do for you?” Peter liked Julie Summers, a bubbly, eager, talented, exceptionally bright, young woman. She was the best executive assistant he had ever had, but he only liked her as an executive assistant, despite the persistent rumors that spread like wildfire through the building and even into his social circle. “Can you come over and read this email?” Peter asked. “I know it sounds crazy…but I don’t understand it.” Julie frowned slightly, visibly perplexed by the request. Ever the professional, she circled the desk to look at his computer screen over his shoulder. Julie reared back. “Is this some sort of joke?” she asked. “What?” Peter shook his head, joking the farthest thing from his mind. The situation seemed deadly serious to him. “No.” Julie put her hands on her hips. “Look, if this is some sneaky way to hit on me, you know I’m engaged and I will contact HR. Just because your dad owns this firm doesn’t mean you can get away with anything you want.” Peter held up his hand, struck by her icy tone. He hadn’t meant to offend her. “What? No! Julie, it’s nothing like that.” “Then why would you have me read a Dear John email from your wife?” She seemed to relax, concern replacing the anger in her eyes. “I mean, I know we work closely, Mr. Gourd, but I don’t need to know all the details of your life.” Peter’s shoulders slumped. He hadn’t misunderstood the email, then. “Thanks, Julie,” he said, waving his hand toward the door. “Take the afternoon off.” “Are you going to be okay, Mr. Gourd? You look a little pale.” Peter looked up at Julie’s sweet, concerned face, grateful that she had calmed down. He didn’t need to deal with a complaint to HR on top of…everything. “I’m fine,” he assured her, though he knew his face betrayed his words. “I’ve just got to get this straightened out.” Julie picked up his calendar and flipped through the pages. “I’m rescheduling your appointments for the next week,” she announced. “I’ll do that before I leave.” “What? No, you can’t shuffle my schedule like that. There are too many meetings, and I have a court date next Wednesday.” He tried to take the planner from her hands, but she held it above her head, out of his reach. Despite everything, he needed to keep his priorities straight. Why should his clients suffer because he had a problem with his wife? They still had lives and businesses to run, and they relied on him. Julie could see the conflict in his eyes. “Mr. Gourd…Peter…listen to me. You probably have only one shot to make things right with Emily before she’s gone forever. All of this can wait, but she can’t.” She crossed his large office to the door, still gripping the planner. “You take the afternoon off. I’ve got work to do.” Peter watched her leave, blinking. He could attempt to argue with her, plead his case, but to what avail? She was right, of course. He couldn’t argue with her or with the email. He checked the time stamp—10:34:28 AM. It was already past four. She’d be long gone by now. He wouldn’t even know where to look, much less what to do once he found her. He turned back to the computer screen, and reread the email, searching for any clues. Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater Fresh pain twisted in Peter’s heart as he grabbed the framed photograph of her from the corner of his desk, holding it up to the light. He vividly remembered taking this photograph of her at the beach, her long, brown hair whipping around her face. She hadn’t noticed him standing above her on an outcropping of rocks with his camera poised, because their new puppy, Remi, had distracted her by chasing seagulls up and down the empty beach. That had been the weekend they had found the Pumpkin House. Emily had fallen in love with it the moment she’d seen it. Peter straightened. Of course. She wanted to find a place to think and get away from him. Where else would she go? He had only been to the beach house once since they’d bought it—Emily had turned it into a sanctuary and went up there several times a week, armed with books or a canvas and paint. It was only about an hour away, and the midday traffic would be light. He shut down his computer, grabbed his jacket, and hurried out of the office. “Are you going after Emily?” Julie called as he passed her desk. “Of course.” “What are you going to do?” she asked, rising from her chair. “I hope you’ve got something big planned. Because I think you might need a miracle.” “Thanks for the pep talk,” he muttered, pulling his jacket on. “I’ll think of something when I get there.” He stepped to the door, but paused as another thought occurred to him. “Oh, Julie, can you forward my calls to my cell? Henderson should be calling this evening or tomorrow morning and I…” “Sir?” Julie interrupted. “May I remind you that Emily left because you neglected her? It might not be a great idea to bring your work with you.” Peter nodded. “Right, right. Okay, don’t forward my calls, just…” “I’ll take care of everything. That’s what I’m here for, right? Now go! Do you know where she is?” “I have a pretty good idea.” “Call me if you need anything,” Julie said as the phone started to ring. She lifted the receiver, shooing him away with her free hand. “Gourd and Gourd Associates…I’m sorry, he’s not in the office right now.” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “Will you go?” Peter still hesitated. He was already six hours late, another fifteen minutes wouldn’t make a huge difference, would it? Henderson had been trying to set up a meeting for the past three weeks. “Who is it? Is that Henderson?” “Do you want to save your marriage or what?” Julie asked. Briefly, he imagined a life without Emily’s smile, without the feel of her soft hair, without the brightness she brought to a room. He could live without Henderson—he couldn’t live without Emily. Peter nodded, and stepped into the waiting elevator. He had a dozen other things he wanted to tell Julie—what to do if this client called, or that one needed help, or his father came downstairs looking for him. But he trusted Julie, and he’d have to trust her judgment while he was away. Still, his stomach churned. He had only left the office for longer than a day once, and that was the weekend he got married. They had never gone on a honeymoon—the Johnson case had gone to court that week, he remembered, after six months of delays and scheduling conflicts. Emily had claimed she understood, and why shouldn’t he have believed her? There would be plenty of time to go on a honeymoon—a whole lifetime, right? The elevator came to a stop on the fourth floor, its doors opening to Justin Lennon, a young paralegal who had worked with Peter on a few cases. Justin reminded Peter a little of himself at that age—intelligent, eager, a bright future ahead of him. Peter knew that the younger man could make it far in the firm. Still, there was something about him that Peter just didn’t like. “Hey, Mr. Gourd!” Justin exclaimed, offering his hand. “I was just coming up to see you.” Peter shook it without enthusiasm. A distracted corner of his brain noted that Justin’s hands were warm without being clammy. “Yes, well, an emergency has cropped up, so I’ll be out of the office for a while.” Justin gaped. “Are you serious?” Peter arched his brow. “Yes.” “I’m sorry…it’s just…you never take time off. You’re like an institution!” “What did you want to see me about, Justin?” Peter asked, uninterested in discussing his working habits. “Do you mind if I walk with you to your car?” he asked. “No.” The elevator began its smooth descent to the parking garage. Peter wasn’t interested in whatever problems or questions Justin had. He needed time to gather his thoughts and form a plan for Emily. “So, what kind of emergency? It’s nothing serious, I hope,” Justin started, fidgeting with the knot of his tie. Nope, nothing serious. Just the death of my marriage. “It’s Emily.” Justin stepped forward, his eyes wide, the color on his face rising. “Oh my God, nothing happened to her did it? She’s not hurt or anything, right?” Peter blinked, surprised by Justin’s reaction. As far as he knew, Justin had met Emily once, at the Christmas party, but otherwise, didn’t know her at all. Justin moved in a different social circle than the Gourds, and their paths rarely crossed outside of work. “She’s fine.” Justin blushed, his smile self-conscious. “Good. Good. So, um, I actually needed to get some time off cleared with you…” “When?” Peter suddenly wished he had a cigarette. “Right now.” Peter sighed, growing exasperated. “No, when are you taking time off?” “Right now. I…uh…have my own family emergency.” Justin looked down quickly, avoiding eye contact. The color of his face deepened, and Peter thought he looked remarkably like a trapped animal. “Is that so? Is somebody in the hospital?” Peter kept his voice light and curious, despite the alarm bells going off in his head. He had seen that sort of body language in the courtroom countless times—the silent signals of a man hopelessly guilty and desperately trying to hide that fact. “No…no, nobody’s in the hospital.” He continued fidgeting with his tie. “It’s not…it’s not that kind of emergency.” “I see. How much time do you need off?” “A…a couple of days…” Justin nodded quickly. “Yeah, a couple of days should be enough.” “Really? So it’s just a minor emergency? Nobody died or anything?” The doors opened, depositing them in the parking garage. Peter walked the short distance to his Mercedes, Justin following just a few feet behind. Justin switched tactics now, as if trying to squirm away from the trap Peter was laying. “Look, Mr. Gourd, if you don’t want to give me the time off, I understand…” “Have you ever been to Farmer’s Beach?” Peter interrupted, catching Justin off-guard. “Um, once or twice.” “That’s where I’m heading. Right now, in fact. It’s really a beautiful place. Most of it’s privately owned, so there are no crowds. I don’t get up there as much as I like to. I own a house there. Did you know that?” Peter smiled, waiting for Justin’s response. “Oh, really?” His voice cracked on the last syllable of really. He coughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t know that.” Peter waited a beat, finally catching and holding Justin’s eyes. He allowed the silence to stretch between them, until he thought Justin would snap. “Anyway, I guess you can take a few days, since I won’t be around…” Justin held up his hand, backing away from him quickly. “You know, on second thought, I can’t afford to lose the hours. Thanks though.” “You’re sure? I mean, if it’s an emergency…” “I’m sure, I’m sure. Have a good vacation.” Justin sent him one last, baffled look before hurrying back to the elevator. Peter frowned, watching him go, his suspicions all but confirmed. “What’s going on here, Emily?” he muttered as he settled in his car. “What’s going on?” |