Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“I love the chair. The size, the shape, the pattern. And the table and lamp, perfect with it. The mirror, exactly right for over the dresser.”
“And look.” Sonya opened the drawer.
“Oh, what we gave her! We’re going to put those on the dresser after we hang the mirror. And she needs a little vase or bottle.”
After turning another circle, Cleo nodded. “I’m loving this. Where are you thinking of hanging the paintings?”
“Since she’s got the narrow armoire and the washstand over there—and they’re charming, plus fit the size of the room—I was thinking over the bed. They’ll reflect in the mirror.”
“We’re in tune. She needs a rug. Small. Round or oval, quiet colors or pattern.”
“There must be a couple dozen between those rolled up in the attic and the ones downstairs. Different sizes.”
“Then we’ll get this all hung, and we’ll go find the right rug.”
With the mirror and paintings in place, Sonya ran down for a vase, and Cleo hunted for a rug.
Sonya decided on a pale blue vase with a fluted top, and went to the garden to cut a few flowers. When she came back, Cleo put down an oval rug in blue on cream.
“That’s exactly right.”
“And so’s that vase. I love the little yellow and white flowers for that splash of happy. We need to get a nice duvet, some shams, throw pillows. Then this is a room that feels like Molly.”
“I want to do them all, but this one? We know what Molly’s room should look and feel like.”
Clover showed her heart in “Daisies” by Katy Perry.
“She does so much for us. I hope this makes her happy.”
“It makes me happy. Owen texted they’d bring pizza tonight, so I’ve got time. Let’s go look at another room.”
They’d done two more by the time they heard voices, dogs, and feet on the stairs.
“We’re this way,” Sonya called out. Hurrying to Trey, she threw her arms around him. “We’ve been having so much fun!”
“Doing?”
“Come see. You, too, Owen,” she added, and hurried back to Molly’s room.
“Nice.” Owen stepped in, looked around. “Small room, furniture to scale, girly but not over-the-top.”
“Molly’s room, right?”
“Yes.” Sonya leaned against Trey. “I finished going through the ballroom, and when I took a look in here, it all started rolling.”
She pulled him out again. “And this one? Clover let us know through the Beatles, this is Rita’s.”
“‘Lovely Rita,’ meter maid?”
She laughed at Owen. “Got it in one. Then since we really don’t know Rita, she gave us a clue with the Beatles again. ‘When I’m Sixty-Four.’”
“So an older woman.” Cleo chimed in. “We found that rocking chair, the table, the lamp. And we went with that landscape—one of Collin’s—and the longer rectangular rug works with it.”
“You’ve been busy,” Trey observed.
“And not done yet. Next room, she stuck with the Beatles for ‘Eleanor Rigby.’”
She gestured into the room with its curvy armchair and little footstool, the square mirror.
“Since the washstand’s over here, and the armoire there, we went with the still life for that wall.
“We’ve got a bathroom across I’d want to update, but keep old-timey in style,” Sonya continued. “And…” She lifted her hands. “Lots of rooms and possibilities.”
Hands on hips, Cleo gave the room a look of satisfaction.
“It struck as obvious, female servants up here, males down below.”
“Yes, more servants’ quarters downstairs, and I hope we find Jerome’s, but Collin took most of those for the theater and the gym.”
“Good start, solid progress,” Cleo said. “And we’ll keep it up, but right now, I’m ready for food.”
As they started out, Sonya tipped her face up to Trey’s. “I’ve figured out what I want in the ballroom, how I want to set that up. And more, that I need to hire John Dee and at least one other burly guy to help move things out, things in.”
Owen let out an exaggerated sigh. “Thank God for that.”
“I’m going to measure, draw it out on graph paper to be absolutely sure.”
“I’m going to add thank God we’ve got a graphic artist on it.” Trey skimmed a hand down Sonya’s ponytail. “And that it makes you so damn happy.”
She stopped on the third floor. “It does make me happy. I know she’s not going to be quiet for long. I’ve got that pattern. But the happier I am, the more I know I can fight back. And the more we bring the manor to life, the less it’s hers and the more it’s ours.”
Cooler days passed in the quiet, so Sonya took advantage of the lull. She started work an hour early to justify shutting down an hour early. With that hour she worked on the servants’ quarters.
Since Molly took care of cleaning, she carried tables, chairs, lamps, arranged, rearranged.
When the day came to turn her vision for the ballroom into reality, she stood with Cleo, Trey, Owen, John Dee, Manny, and Bree.
“I know it’s a lot,” Sonya said.
“It’s a giant mountain of lot.” Bree put her hands on her hips. She had a black cap over her bright red hair and wore a baggy sleeveless Metallica T-shirt that showed off her tats.
“A chunk of the giant mountain stays.”
Manny adjusted his Buddy Holly glasses, tossed back his flop of hair. “Which chunk?”
“Okay, anything with blue stickies goes in the attic, red stickies go in the basement, I tagged the yellows for specific rooms, and the whites stay here.”
John Dee gave her his easy smile, scratched his beard. “You’re an organized soul, aren’t cha?”
“Oh,” Cleo confirmed, “she is. She is.”
“It’s the first step of successful time management. And … there are some pieces in the attic that come in here. Also some from the basement level that come up here.”
She tried a winning smile. “Apologies in advance.”
“You’re sure about it, right?” Trey gave her a long look. “What goes down, over, up, wherever, stays where it’s put.”
“I can guarantee ninety percent sure.”
On a wince, Owen rolled his shoulders. “That ten percent gives me a dull ache in the lower back.”
“Well.” John Dee took another look around. “Seems to me the best way is to take the blue stuff to the attic first. Clear the way some.”
After the first few trips, Bree shook her head. “Did these people ever get rid of anything? Ever?”
“I think that’s a no,” Sonya told her. “I’m working on making use of what makes sense, and we talked Owen into taking a couple pieces, but…”
She noted John Dee eyeballing, for the second time, a small, single-door cabinet with curved legs and curved top.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Sure is. Kevin would be all over it.”
“It’s yours.”
He waved one of his big hands in the air. “Ah, come on.”
“I mean it. Take it. Move it out! Load it up!”
“Now, Sonya, I can’t be doing that. Now, if you really can’t use it, I’ll maybe buy it.”
“Okay. One dollar.”
This time he snickered when he waved again. “That won’t work for me. I appreciate it, though.”
“Okay, let’s try this. Hey, Owen.”
A warning in his eyes, he glanced over. “If you’re going to say you want me to move something back I just moved over here, I may have to hurt you.”
“Not that. Take a look at this cabinet, tell me what you figure it’s worth. John Dee’s interested.”
He knew her well enough, caught the look that clearly said: Lowball it big-time. But he made a show of carefully examining the piece.
“Nice. Mahogany. Solid.” He opened the door, crouched. “Top shelf inside’s a little bowed, but not bad.” With a shrug, he straightened. “I’d call it about five hundred.”
“Great. With the friends-and-family discount, that’s two-fifty.”
“That’s not right, Sonya.”
Her face showed hurt and surprise, and she loaded her voice with both. “Are you saying you’re not friends and family with me?”
His eyes widened; his feet shuffled. “Well now, sure I am. But … I just don’t want to … It’s not right for me to … Three-fifty, okay? Let’s say three-fifty. I wouldn’t feel right about it otherwise.”
“Deal.” She stuck out a hand.
He shook, smiled. “Kevin’s going to be all over it, even more since it comes from the manor. I’ll just move it out there, so it’s out of the way.”
Hands in pockets, Owen waited until John Dee was out of earshot. “Nice work. More like fifteen, maybe sixteen hundred, by the way.”
“Then nice work back at you.”
They made good progress before the lunch break, where Cleo’s cold fried chicken and Creole potato salad got Chef Bree’s seal of approval.
“I could work this into the summer menu next year.” Considering, Bree took another bite of potato salad. “The smoked pepper makes it.”
“It’s my grand-mère’s recipe. I’ll give it to you.”
“Then it wouldn’t be mine. On the other hand…” Lips pursed, she tipped her head side to side. “Grand-mère’s Creole Potato Salad says something. I’m going to play with it, think about it.”
Clover chimed in with Katy Perry and Migos to say “Bon Appétit.”
Even as Bree gave the kitchen tablet the side-eye, Manny grinned, said, “Cool. See, you’re talking about cooking, and it—she?—whatever plays a song about cooking.”
“I got it, Manny.” Now Bree gave him the side-eye before she shifted to Sonya. “Doesn’t it ever just creep you out?”
“Not even a little. Thanks to Clover, my playlist has expanded by leaps and bounds since I moved to the manor.”
“That’d happen sometimes when I came in to do any inside work for Collin.” Shrugging, John Dee polished off a drumstick. “Didn’t feel creepy so much as, well, just Lost Bride Manor stuff.”
“Did anything feel creepy?” Sonya asked him. “Trust me, I won’t be offended.”
“Well, you got used to doors opening and closing and like that. And now and then maybe you’d hit what you’d call a cold spot.
But there was a time, just last year, when I was delivering a load of firewood, and Collin mentioned the faucet was leaking and dripping in one of the bathrooms on the third floor, the one down past his studio? ”
He smiled at Cleo. “You’re using it now. Anyhow, I said I’d take a look, took my tools on up. Needed a new washer and some tightening up, so it didn’t take long. But it gave me a bad feeling, kind of a sick feeling to be in there. Like there was someone who didn’t want me to be.”
He flushed a little. “I could’ve sworn there was somebody moving around in that room across the hall. A sneaky sound to it.”
“We’re working on that,” Sonya told him.
“I guess I’ve been all over this house doing a little this or that for Collin, unless Trey or Owen took care of it first. But that day, down that way? It didn’t feel right.”
But Dobbs stayed quiet through the afternoon as the space in the ballroom spread, and the space in the attic narrowed.
She talked Bree and Manny into taking an Art Deco table as a housewarming gift, sealing that deal by assuring Bree the table wasn’t haunted.
Then she brought out her graph paper.
Trey studied it, noted each piece had been drawn to scale and place. And she’d added a list on the side identifying each one.
“Did we say organized?”
“Yes, with the caveat this is where that ten percent applies.”
Owen studied the graph. “Nah. This is how it’s done. You’ve got it, so let’s just get going on it.”
Though she did second-guess herself, a few times, as they placed love seats, tables, chairs, Sonya saw what she’d built in her head becoming. And leaned toward Owen’s take.
They had it.
No neutrals here, but bold colors and patterns, gleaming wood, varying shapes that to her eye worked together. Probably not the formal elegance the room had once held, but touches of both mixed, she thought, with comfort and welcome.
“Needs art.” Sonya swiped the back of her hand over her forehead. “I wanted to see it set up before I got into that. And some tall plants. And maybe…”
“Forget that ten percent.”
She shrugged at Trey. “It’s down to five, and I think that disappears with the art and plants. I think. There’s just so much open space.”
“That’s what this is for.”
Trey grabbed her, spun her into a waltz.
“I don’t know how to do this!”
“I do.”
Clover added music with “Iris.”
“It’s the Goo Goo Dolls,” Owen said, “but I don’t do that.”
Cleo fluttered her lashes. “I do.”
“I do.” John Dee held out a hand.
With a curtsy, Cleo took it.
Hands on hips again, Bree watched both couples spin around the floor.
“I had my serious doubts. Deeply serious, but holy hopping shit, this is a freaking ballroom. And Manny, Rock Hard’s going to rock it hard here.”
“Hundred percent. The first time we’ll have played in a place with freaking chandeliers. Sign us up for the holiday bash, and we’ll blow those doors off.”
He grinned over at Owen. “This was fun.”
“You’ve always had a weird sense of fun. Wait until she gets her teeth into doing a major game room in the basement, and you can have more fun hauling things around.”
“We used to game in that room downstairs.”
“Not big enough for what she wants. Pool table, pinball.”
“Pinball?” Bree held up a hand.
“Trey’s got a line on Gorgar.”
“Vintage pinball!” Bree mimed pressed flippers. “We’re here for that, right, babe?”
“Oh yeah, we are. Man, this place is coming to serious life.”
As they circled, Trey grinned. “That’s the plan, isn’t it, cutie?”
“You bet your waltzing ass.” Sonya threw back her head and laughed as they danced.