Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
S unlight filtered through the surrounding trees, not quite filling the cul-de-sac with light, when Finn pulled into the cracked driveway of his childhood home. He’d woke early, filled his coffee mug, and started driving north towards Evers Hollow. He made a quick stop in town before continuing.
He turned the car off and stepped out of his SUV.
The sun topped the trees, highlighting the chalky yellow exterior of the house. Cracks and chips were prevalent on the wood siding. Rot edged the bottom all the way round. Green scuzz adhered to half of the front and one side. He tried to scrub it off as a teenager. It never worked.
He studied the other houses in the cul-de-sac.
All stood in similar condition. Several residents lost their homes after the lumber mill north of town closed.
One-hundred-forty-five jobs gone overnight.
The recession hit the people who lived in this neighborhood hard.
Made it difficult to renovate and repair.
He walked around to the back. The siding looked the same.
Years ago, Pa added a small screened porch for summer evening meals.
Jagged gashes in the mesh left the screening cloth hanging.
Pa’s foot had gone through one, years before, as if kicking it would make his grief over his wife’s death lessen. He’d never repaired it.
Finn walked back to the front door and let himself in.
Linoleum cracked beneath his feet as he walked into the kitchen.
Out of habit, he toed the crack in the floor that ran parallel to the counter Mom used for baking.
He remembered sitting on a chair, forming cookies beside her and sticking them on a cookie sheet in a random manner.
How she always rearranged them to allow the proper spacing.
Over and over again. Different t-shirts, different heights, and often a second chair for Rose.
He took a deep breath, glanced around the room. The yellow table sat where it always had. It had been one thing he couldn’t remove. It belonged here, along with its four yellow chairs, in front of the yellow wallpaper behind it.
Finn took his time to check things over, opened all the now clean cabinets.
His neighbor, Norah, had arranged a house cleaner.
Even the yellow table seemed to shine. The smell of bleach and lemons permeated the rooms. In the family room, depressions in the faded gold carpet still marked where the furniture once stood.
Not even a professional steam cleaner could change twenty-something years of that.
A knock interrupted his train of thought. Finn glanced at his watch. Right on time. He opened the front door. “Morning, Raymond.”
Raymond Alvarez, a local real estate agent, stood on the small stoop.
His slicked back dark hair and trimmed mustache crossed the middle of his face.
He was shorter and thicker around the middle than Finn.
He carried a clipboard in one hand and held out his other.
“Good to meet you, Finn. Please call me Ray.”
“All right. Thanks for coming out so early.” Finn shook the man’s hand.
“Not a problem. We accommodate everyone’s schedules.”
Ray stepped into the house from the front stoop. Whatever he thought, his face remained neutral.
Finn looked at the man apologetically. “I’d offer you coffee, but the coffee maker here broke.”
“No worries. I’ve had a cup.”
Finn had never put a house on the market before. “How does this work?”
“First, let’s walk through it together. I’ll take some measurements, make some notes, and then we can talk.”
He gave the man a tour. It didn’t take long. The small home hadn’t changed since his childhood. All the furniture was gone except the kitchen table, its chairs, and a small dresser in Finn’s bedroom.
“You mentioned painting?”
Finn nodded. “I’ve got a few days off. Figured fresh paint might brighten it up.”
“It’s not a bad size house for a small family or a couple. I’ll get the measurements.”
While the real estate agent went room to room, Finn busied himself by bringing in his painting supplies.
Once finished, he found Ray in the kitchen, making notes on his clipboard.
“If you and your pa decide to move forward,” he said, “I can arrange for a photographer to take pictures.”
Finn knew what Pa wanted—the house sold ASAP. “I’ll talk to my father.” He’d spent most of his childhood in this house. It carried memories of his mom. He needed to make peace with Pa’s decision.
Ray pulled out a black wallet. “Here’s my business card. I’ll call you later just to touch base. I won’t hound you about the place. It’s a big decision. I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
They shook hands. Finn walked him out.
As Ray got into his car, Finn asked, “Where do you get a good cup of coffee here these days?”
Ray lifted his chin. “Firebrew. It’s on Second Street and Maple. Great coffee and evil baked cakes.” He patted his stomach as if it were the reason for the padding around his middle.
“Thanks, I’ll check it out.”
He unloaded the rest of his car: the air mattress he’d purchased, a single pillow, a duffel bag filled with clothes, and his sleeping bag.
Finn laid drop cloths down in the family room.
Filled nail holes and other dents along the wall surface.
It took time to run blue tape along the stained wood baseboards.
Rather than dirty the clean kitchen, he put on running shoes and ran into town to pick up a breakfast burrito from a tiny takeout place.
Fed and energized, he picked up a roller and got a coat of primer on the walls.
A few hours later, the first coat of paint went on.
The sun disappeared as he drove into town.
Rain hit his windshield as he searched for a place to park.
He looked at his maps app to find the place Ray mentioned.
Second Street. He passed a red and orange dragon sign that spelled Firebrew in red.
Found a small parking lot just after. Once he was out of his SUV, he dashed through the increasing rain to the door below the sign and entered. To think he’d considered walking.