Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
SAMANTHA
S am was hiding in one of the guest rooms, waiting for the family call. When Frank Elliott, her realtor, called about an evening showing, she couldn't say no. Her house had been on the market for a couple of weeks. So far there were no offers. Had her hopes been too high? He’d suggested cleaning up some of her crammed shelves and putting away more personal items. The rooms Kurt had emptied weren’t very appealing. Frank had a resource that staged homes and she’d asked him to fill in the gaps. The expense was reasonable and if it would bring a sale, totally worth it. Her family room was looking comfortable again with a mohair throw rug and Indian patterned blankets folded neatly on the soft leather furniture.
So she’d told Frank no problem about the showing but that she’d be in one of the guest rooms for a family call. No way could she join the Facetime meeting while sitting at a Starbucks. Renovations demanded a lot more input than she’d expected. And of course Aunt Cate was trying to take everyone into consideration. She’d always been good about that.
On Sam’s last trip to Sunnycrest, they'd gone over the sketches. But they hadn’t drilled down on the details. A bathroom presented a lot of options, and so did closets. Everything had to be ordered before work could begin. None of them wanted a room to be half finished, while they waited for a delivery. Working around the crew was going to be more challenging than anyone had expected. She was eager to get up to Charlevoix to help out and she knew Marlowe felt the same.
But since Sam didn't know what was going on with Josh, living in Charlevoix might be uncomfortable. At this point she didn't know what to think. Instead of ignoring his calls, she’d told him nicely that she needed a break. Those had been hard words to say but he seemed to understand. During the dinner at his house, it had been painfully obvious that his kids weren’t ready for him to date. The fact that Sam and Josh had known each other in high school was lost on them.
Hunkered down in the guest room, she waited for the call. Frank had been great and told her not to worry. He was probably as eager as she was to sell the house. Properties were moving quickly in this market. Right now the beautiful home in Oak Brook held painful memories, and Sam wanted to move on.
As she sat at her green desk with the leather top, the phone rang. The blue plastic holder vibrated and she clicked into the call. Her aunt’s picture came up first. Izzy was seated next to her, the squirming baby in her arms. Seeing Sam’s face on the phone, Holly began babbling away. They were seated at the kitchen table. Marlowe clicked into the call next.
“Plenty of time for that little girl to talk on the phone,” Marlowe called out. “Remember how we hogged the phone when we were teenagers?”
“Don't remind me.” Izzy rolled her eyes. Sam hoped that in due time her sister would be settled with some nice man to help her raise Holly. But right now that opportunity seemed a long way off. Her sister’s shop and the baby took up all her time.
“The realtor is showing someone my house tonight,” Sam told her family. “So I'm going to keep my voice low. Maybe they won't come into this room.” This guest room was her favorite. She'd had it painted moss green and the subdued but soothing color was reflected in her Mary Cassatt and Monet posters. Sam and Kurt had discovered the desk on a Sunday drive to a small Illinois town. That trip had been such a happy excursion with Kurt that weekend. Although he didn’t care much for the feminine green desk with gilded accents and a matching chair, they’d packed the pieces into their SUV and brought it home.
Home. Back then, she had no inkling that this house and its contents would one day be divided. But she wouldn't think about that now. No matter what, the desk was coming with her to Charlevoix.
“Let's run through the details that we want in the bedrooms.” Aunt Cate began to rally the troops and Sam quickly left her memories behind. “I want you to think about those bathrooms, girls. I don't know if it makes a lot of sense to have every bathroom be different and the same thing goes for the closets. With that approach, the bedrooms might look piecemeal if you girls decide to sell this place some day.”
“What’s this? You’re kidding, right?” Izzy's face fell. Obviously she didn't want to think about that, and Sam didn't blame her. Sunnycrest had been Izzy’s home for many years. They'd always felt having her safe in this house was not only convenient but it gave them all peace of mind.
“Forget I said that, sweetheart.” Aunt Cate gave her head a little shake.
Sam had to help her out. “What Aunt Cate probably means is that we might all settle in with some wonderful, handsome man one day. We might not want to live at Sunnycrest.” The idea sounded far fetched but it could happen.
“You mean a man like Josh?” Izzy batted her eyes coyly.
The sound of his name brought an ache to Sam’s heart. “No, not Josh. That's not what I'm saying. Not that I don't think he's a nice man.” Nice? What was she saying?
“Sorry, Sam. I can't hear you.” Leave it to Marlowe to speak up.
So she cleared her throat and tried again. “I don't think I'll be leaving this house or Sunnycrest to set up house with anyone. I mean not in the near future, anyway. Have to get my head on straight first.”
An uncomfortable silence fell. Having personal conversations on Facetime was so hard. Izzy’s sisters and aunt all looked confused. She didn’t want to rehash that dinner with Josh’s children.
But Izzy wouldn't leave it alone. “So dinner at his house was that bad?”
Although she’d told Marlowe about that dinner, the rest of the family didn’t know the details. Did she owe them an explanation? “Yes. It was that bad.” Maybe she could leave it there.
“I think it was all those pictures,” Marlowe said. She might think she was helping Sam out. “It would really be spooky to go to a guy's house and have pictures of his former wife all over the place.”
Oh, if they only knew how awful that had felt.
“But he has those children to consider,” Aunt Cate gently reminded them. “Josh is a widower. Things are different when you're older and dating.”
Wow. What was their aunt saying? Was she speaking with the wisdom that comes from experience? Suspicion curled at the edges of Sam's mind. After all, her aunt was very attractive. “Aunt Cate, are you saying that you are dating someone?”
With a flutter of her manicured fingernails, their aunt brushed that comment away. “Oh please. Not even close.”
“Izzy, Sam and I are depending on you to keep an eye on Aunt Cate,” Marlowe said with a chuckle. “Before she goes out with anyone, we have to check him out first.”
“What nonsense.” They’d tried their aunt's patience, and Sam also wanted to move this along.
“I’m grabbing a pen. Let's make a list.” Aunt Cate dove into the project. “Could we agree that all of the bathrooms should have similar features? We can't have people going into one bathroom and then the next and having them feel as if they're in a different house.”
“Agreed.” Sam could hear voices down below. The realtor must have arrived with his clients.
“Let’s move on,” Marlowe said. So they hashed over decisions like faucets and showerheads. The granite counters could be different in each room but they all wanted set-in sinks and counters large enough to accommodate makeup. No stand up sinks that took up space. All sinks would be rectangular and set into the counter. The list went on and on and Sam could see that her sisters were becoming excited by the modern conveniences Sunnycrest lacked.
But when it came to the showers, her sisters couldn't agree. Izzy didn't like having the bathtub glassed in. Not with the baby. So the bathtub-shower combination was out for her. Marlowe definitely wanted a shower.
“What is going to happen to the bathroom that's now accessible to the other three bedrooms?” Aunt Cate asked, once they’d agree to talk to Seth about the shower option. “Have you given that any thought?”
“We'll have to consider that as we go,” Marlowe said. Did they really need a bathroom for guests on the second floor when every room had a private bath? Sam’s head was spinning.
“Maybe I should ask Seth about that,” Aunt Cate said making a note on the pad in front of her.
“Now let's do the closets. No wire racks.” Marlowe wasn't a fan of California closets and Sam knew that. She'd been in Marlowe's condo.
Sam was having trouble keeping her mind on the conversation. “When is the work going to start?” she asked, craning her neck toward the door. Things had become very quiet downstairs. Maybe the prospects were in the master suite.
She'd been wondering how Izzy was going to tolerate all the noise that came along with renovation. Sam imagined the saws whining and hammers banging. From the projects she'd seen, the contractors used a slide going from one of the upstairs windows into a dumpster. A certain amount of noise went along with that. Noise and dust. Could Izzy tolerate that?
“First we have to make these decisions,” Aunt Cate said. “The demolition won't begin until Seth has all of the building materials. He doesn't want to start on a bathroom, for example, and not have the sinks or the shower fixtures. That can hold up the project on the other end.”
Sam watched Izzy's expression tighten. The poor girl was worried and she couldn't blame her. Holly was pulling on one of her mom’s blonde pigtails. But her mother wasn't responding. Was Izzy getting cold feet? “Izzy, how do you feel about the project so far? After all, you're going to be on site. Marlowe and I aren’t sure when we’ll arrive.”
Grabbing her daughter's hand, Izzy kissed it and Holly giggled. “I'm going to work around it. Seth told me that the crew would work during the day while I'm at the shop and Holly is at daycare.”
“Sounds like a great plan,” Marlowe said.
But Izzy didn't look totally convinced. “Still, there will be a mess. Sawdust and that kind of thing. I’m worried about that. Holly's a baby and I don't want her to end up with breathing problems. When I talked to Seth about that, he said he would tape the room down in plastic sheets.”
“That man is so considerate.” Aunt Cate got to her feet and poured herself a glass of water. Maybe her throat had gotten dry just thinking about all that dust in the air.
The more Sam saw and worked in that kitchen, the more she realized how dated it was. When they visited Sunnycrest during the summer, she had found the knotty pine cupboards quaint. Full of good memories. Now it just seemed old. Inconvenient. And not at all pretty. When they had their Christmas open house on Christmas Day, she'd been embarrassed when some of the guests ended up in that kitchen.
“Are we finished?” Aunt Cate consulted her delicate wristwatch. “I've got to run.”
“Where are you off to all the time?” Marlowe said. “You sure are busy.”
While they all waited, their aunt’s mouth opened and closed. Then opened again. Sometimes she could be so mysterious. “Volunteer work,” she finally said.
“That's wonderful.” Marlowe obviously loved that idea. “I'd like to do some of that too when I get there.”
Volunteer work. That might be a good way for Sam to meet people. She’d be doing her agency work from home, and that might feel confining. And she wanted to fill her time. “Where are you volunteering?”
Aunt Cate’s eyes seemed to drift. “Tall Oaks,” she said grabbing her handbag off the back of her chair. “Gotta run. I’ll type all of this up for Seth later.”
Watching her run from the room, Izzy shook her head. “She is always so busy.”
“Better busy than being bored.” Marlowe shook her head.
Just as they said goodbye to each other, Sam could hear Frank Elliott coming down the hall, talking about the upstairs bedrooms. Folding up her notes, she eased herself from the chair and carefully pushed it in. Everything looked good in the room. The pillows were fluffed on top of the green fern quilt. Would she take anything from this room with her? Of course the desk was coming but what about the dresser set? Would there be any place to use them at Sunnycrest? Maybe only time would tell. Maybe she should take everything and decide up in Charlevoix.
When Sam quietly opened the door, she found a couple standing in the hall looking at some of the prints she’d picked up in Spain. The posters were retro, created each year for Semana Santa . Holy Week was very big in Spain, a cause for colorful parades and celebrations.
“Hello and pardon me,” she said, passing the couple and nodding to Frank. They entered the guest room just as Sam reached the stairs.
“Have you ever seen so much green?” the woman said to her husband. “I just hate that color in the bedroom.”
Oh well. And so it goes . One more reason to leave this place. The beautiful home had become Sam’s past. Now it was only a building she wanted to leave behind. And yes, she was taking everything in that guest room with her. And she’d paint her bedroom moss green.