Chapter Ten
While Arden worked out, she studied the unfinished walls and imagined. The glass doors of the walkout brought in good natural light and that was a plus.
But she’d rather have French doors than the current sliders. Replacement could go on the consideration list.
Either way, she could easily make this entire level into an attractive, livable, multifunctional space.
Storage, yes, home gym, absolutely. Update the very basic bathroom, definitely. The rest could turn into a secondary living space. Add a gas fireplace, a whopping big-screen TV, cozy, comfortable furniture.
An antique bar!
But when would she ever use it?
If she turned it into a family room, where was the family?
Though she wanted it, from where she stood now, she didn’t see marriage and kids in her future. She wouldn’t cross them off the Maybe Someday list, but she couldn’t visualize them.
She liked men, but had never met one who’d pulled at her heart and mind and libido. Without that pull on all three, why make promises to another person?
Just dating had so many complications. Then sex added still more.
She liked sex. One of the reasons she’d slept with Michael, a very nice man, had been to prove to herself after a long abstinence that she could enjoy healthy sex.
And she had.
But she was fine with abstinence, and could certainly take care of her own needs when necessary.
Maybe she had a yearning for children, but she could and would be content to be the doting aunt, the fun aunt. Not everyone was wired for marriage and kids.
And how, she wondered, had thoughts of how to finish her basement turned into an internal debate on her single status?
Enough of that.
She spent the rest of the morning doing what she liked best: writing.
At Zorro’s bark, she looked up. Though she had the windows open, she barely heard the truck pull in. But she saw the logo on the side, did a quick chair dance.
“Oh boy, oh boy!”
She didn’t mind losing track of time when it meant new bed delivery.
Shirl’s husband and son carried the headboard, footboard, and bed frame upstairs, while she went down to get them some drinks.
By the time she got back, they’d hauled her mattress and box springs into the guest room. They started on the bed frame and headboard as Zorro looked on.
“You’ve got a good solid bed here,” Bob commented.
“Yes, but I’m about to have a better one.”
She wanted to hover, but made herself give them room as they carted and carried.
“Nice house.” Luke—she gauged him at roughly twenty—glanced around as he carried a nightstand up the steps. “Just you?”
“No.” Arden laid a hand on Zorro’s head, and left it at that.
Should she tip them? She’d never bought a flea market bed before, and didn’t know the protocol.
She decided to err on the side of generosity, and got no argument when she did.
Even as she let them out, a van pulled in.
“Looks like the rest of the bed’s here.” Bob nodded.
So once again, Arden had the thrill of watching a couple of guys muscle her mattress and box springs up the stairs, and put them in place.
Once they left, she made up the guest room first, then put her new, freshly laundered sheets on the new bed, fluffed out the duvet, added the pillows, immediately deciding she’d look for accent pillows and a cozy throw.
She placed Burnie, then went to get the lamps she’d stored in her closet. Added a candle—Lavender Mist—from April’s craft shop.
Hands clasped, she studied the result.
“Oh, good choice. Right choice. I love it! I’m seriously in love with it.”
So saying, she dived onto the bed.
“So much room! I could have sections. One side for reading, the other side for laptop streaming, and the middle.”
She spread out like a starfish while Zorro put his head on the side of the bed and watched her.
“I’m happy here,” she murmured. “It hasn’t been a week, but I don’t feel out of place. I feel in place.”
She sat up, hugged herself. Then frowned at the doorknob on her closet. “Absolutely wrong, especially with this new look.”
She got her tool kit, the knobs Joe Riley had had in stock, and set to work.
Zorro sat beside her, watching, and occasionally muttering in his throat as if offering advice.
Twenty minutes later, she admitted failure.
“I could probably look up how to do it on YouTube, but Zoey can figure it out.”
Instead, she went back to her office to do what she did best.
By Sunday, she had her new/old sideboard and so-far-empty china cabinet in place. And bearing gifts, she set out for Zoey’s.
On the way, she gave Zorro a refresher.
“You haven’t seen the girls since Christmas. You need to be on your best behavior.”
She translated his look as: Please. As if I wouldn’t be.
Still relying on her GPS, she drove deeper into the valley, skirting the river, and into the leafy neighborhood with its big homes, manicured lawns, tidy playground where her cousin made her home.
The house had a massive garage and multiple decks that perfectly suited Zoey, Boone, and their family. As did that leafy neighborhood with bikes, tricycles, playhouses in backyards.
Arden pulled around the circular drive with its island of flowers and shrubs.
By the time she gathered up the gifts, started to herd her dog, the door opened.
Boone, handsome as ever, stepped out. He had the just-turned-three Lexy riding on his back. The girl had her father’s coloring, his same wide grin.
And to Arden’s melting heart, her maternal grandmother’s eyes. Jen’s eyes.
Arden’s father’s eyes.
Lexy squealed and bounced. “Hi, hi, hi!”
“Hi, hi, hi, back!”
“Doggie!”
When she wiggled, Boone slid her down. “Be gentle.”
“Doggie,” Lexy said again, and Zorro wagged right into the hug.
“I want a hug, too.”
“Let me give you a hand. You came loaded.”
“I did.” Arden handed him both big bags, then scooped up the girl. “Do you remember me?”
“Aunt Arden. Has doggie.”
“That’s right.” Technically first-cousin-once-removed Arden, but they’d gone with the simple and easy.
“My turn.” Boone set down the bags to wrap arms around both Arden and Lexy.
“Looking good,” he told her. “Settling in?”
“Settled. And thanks for the internet, and all the rest.”
“No problem. We’re crazy happy you’re here. Come on back. Zoey’s in the kitchen.”
“I thought you were top chef around here.”
“I am, but she decided to bake.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Actually, I think she’s got this.”
They walked through the foyer, the living room, past home offices. On the other side of the house, Arden knew, they had a first-floor guest suite where grandparents generally stayed on visits.
The finished basement, definitely a family room, had another guest suite. Often hers. But she wouldn’t need it now.
Everything opened then to the chef’s kitchen with its acres of white cabinets, the huge island with its black-grained white waterfall countertop.
A dining room ranged on one side, a family lounge on the other.
Since the day was fine, they had the accordion doors open to the patio and the grounds beyond with its playhouse, swing set, pretty garden.
Zoey stood at the counter, arranging a variety of berries on a two-layer cake thickly filled and topped with whipped cream. Maddy, at sixteen months, sat in a high chair, banging with a spoon and hooting.
Considering it music, Zorro added his song and had the toddler adding giggles.
Maddy had inherited her father’s dark, springy hair, his eyes, but the rest of that adorable heart-shaped face was all Zoey.
She grinned at Arden, then waved her spoon in the air before banging it.
“I’m going to free Maddy in a second and get me some kisses. But first I have to say wow.”
With a satisfied nod, Zoey placed another berry. “I know, right? I impress myself. Sure, it’s a box cake, and the rest is mostly whipped cream and berries, but it doesn’t fail.”
Zoey angled her head. “And look at you. You did your hair.”
Arden fluffed at the long, loose waves. “I also impress myself. Now, come to Aunt Arden, you little cutie.”
And if holding that delicious bundle brought on a yearning, she could deal with it.
“How about some wine?” Boone asked her.
“Yes, please. And.” She set Maddy on her hip, looked at Lexy. “How about some presents?”
“Presents!”
“Yours is in that bag there.”
Diving to it, Lexy yanked out tissue paper, then squealed.
“Horsie!”
“I bought her from a cowgirl in Wyoming. Give her a big squeeze.”
As a doting aunt, she knew Lexy had a zoo of stuffed animals, and favored pink. When the girl squeezed the horse, it let out a long, loud Neigh.
Zorro immediately backed away.
“Of course,” Zoey muttered, and rolled her eyes at Arden. “What do you say, Lexy?”
“Thank you! Love horsie.” And made it neigh again.
When Maddy tried to reach down for the horse, Arden shifted her. “You’ve got something else.”
Arden set another bag on the counter. “What could be in here? Let’s find out.”
She helped the toddler pull out tissue paper, discouraged her from eating it by taking out a colorful box. “Let’s open this up.”
Once she had, she set the equally colorful cube on the floor with Maddy, crouched down.
“Do you like music? I listened to music for thousands of miles. Now you can make it.”
Taking the girl’s hand, Arden pressed a blue button with an icon of a guitar. The cube let out a riff that had Zorro retreating again, and Maddy laughing.
“More!”
“One of her favorite words.”
Arden showed her how to press another. A drum beat enthusiastically.
“You did this on purpose. Noisy toys.”
“Absolutely.” Arden tossed back her hair as she smiled up at Zoey. “It’s my duty as a doting aunt. I didn’t forget Mom and Dad.”
Boone opened a stand holding a diamond-shaped slice of orange calcite.
“For your collection.”
“This is a beautiful piece, Arden.”
“I stumbled on a little rock shop in Idaho.”
“And this.” Zoey held up a streaming suncatcher of glass stars. “Is gorgeous.”
“Nevada desert. Who knew? I had to stop myself from doing all my Christmas shopping in July, but I did a chunk of it.”