Chapter 11 Cam
Chapter 11
Cam
Emmy came with me to see the house. Gus had taken Riley on a snowy trail ride through Rebel Blue this morning and had planned for them to eat dinner with his dad, so I was officially off mom duty for the afternoon and evening. Though I guess finding a place to live for my child and me is still mom duty.
I had been worried about how Riley would deal with the move and the absence of Graham, but so far, it has been okay. I think going between my place and Gus’s house throughout her life made her a little more adaptable. She was a curious kid and asked a lot of questions about why Graham wasn’t coming with us or why I wasn’t married when I said I was going to be. Both Gus and I went with the “sometimes things don’t work out” explanation, which, thankfully, seemed to work.
The Wilson house was only ten minutes from the entrance of Rebel Blue. It was placed perfectly between there and town. It had neighbors but not close ones. Also, if you walked through the trees in the backyard, you’d end up at one of Meadowlark’s best trailheads that led to so many trail systems, you’d never run out of things to explore. Riley would love it. But I couldn’t get ahead of myself.
Emmy drove her truck down the long gravel driveway—the house was tucked back in an alcove. You’d never see it if you didn’t know it was there. The driveway was framed by evergreens, which were currently dusted with snow.
After a few minutes, a powder blue house came into view. It was a classic craftsman with gorgeous lines and a large front porch—complete with a swing. The yard around it was covered in more than a foot of snow, but I knew it was big, and in the summer, teeming with greenery and flowers and buzzing with bumblebees.
The truck rolled to a stop in front of the house, right next to a flashy Mercedes SUV, which was probably Ed’s. Emmy cut the engine, and quiet filled the cab in place of Chris Stapleton.
I sat with the quiet, grateful that Emmy did, too. I used to long for quiet, but lately, I had felt afraid of it. There were so many things waiting inside of it that I had to face. But I was happy to stay here—just for a second.
“Ready?” Emmy asked softly. Instead of answering, I pushed open the passenger door and let the cold bite at the exposed skin on my face, neck, and hands. I hated winter, but I loved the way that the air hit my lungs with a jolting refresh. I needed that right now.
My feet hit the gravel as Emmy walked around the front of her truck and looped her arm through mine as we walked toward the stairs, steadying me.
“You feel okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know?”
“Let’s manifest the Teddy Andersen approach to life: Only have a Plan A and trust everything works out,” she said with a light laugh.
We walked up the stairs, and Emmy knocked on the door. I heard footsteps approach from inside.
A few seconds later, Ed Wyatt opened the door. He had dark brown hair and was wearing a suit that didn’t quite fit right. That was one skill being an Ashwood gave me—I could spot a bad suit from a mile away.
“Ed, hi!” Emmy said. “How are you?”
“Good to see you, Emmy,” he said with an outstretched hand, which Emmy took. He looked at me, then, and said, “You’re Camille?”
“That’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.
“Nice to meet you,” he said as he moved his hand from Emmy’s to mine. “Anne was excited to hear that you were interested in the house.”
“She was?” I asked, touched that Anne even remembered who I was.
Ed nodded. “She said you spent a lot of time here in high school.” “A lot” was generous, but this house and I were definitely familiar. “She said not to even show it to anyone else unless you decide you don’t want it.”
Emmy squeezed my arm. “Oh my god, that’s great news!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know you and Anne were that close, Cam.” I laughed sheepishly. Me either.
“So let me walk you through,” Ed said, turning to start walking deeper into the house. “The house was built in 1929. Anne and her husband, Arnold, bought it in the fifties. They raised three children here, and it was well loved by their grandkids and their neighborhood, too.
“Over here we have the formal living room,” Ed said. There were two cream-colored love seats and a pink velvet chair. “Kind of a relic, but with bay windows like that, you’ll definitely be spending some time in here, I’m sure. Formal dining is on the other side, but Anne currently has that set up as a library.”
“Is she hoping to rent the house furnished?” Emmy asked.
“So only the common areas are furnished currently, and Anne is happy to leave them that way. The bedrooms, though, are a clean slate.” That was good. Riley loved her canopy bed.
“Partially furnished is great,” I chimed in. The only furniture that I owned was Riley’s. Graham had bought everything else for the house—it was all his. I’d have to figure out a bed and stuff for myself, but that didn’t matter.
“Great,” Ed said. “Let’s keep going.” We walked down a short hallway toward an open space. “Kitchen and living room. There is a fully functioning wood-burning fireplace there.” Ed pointed at the north side of the room. The fireplace was outlined by gorgeous red brick and a dark wood mantel.
“Kitchen appliances were updated about five years ago. All stainless steel, and the stove is gas,” Ed said. “And a dishwasher was added, which wasn’t there before.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said as I looked around. It was so close to how I remembered it—warm and inviting. A mishmash of colors and styles, maybe one too many for me, but the way they came together made it feel unique and classic all at once. Plus I thought Ada could help me with design to make it feel more cohesive. A little simpler, which was just the way I liked things.
“The primary bedroom is behind the living room, and the two other bedrooms are behind the kitchen,” Ed said.
I nodded. “En suite bath in the primary and a shared bathroom for the other bedrooms, right?”
“That’s right. Laundry is in the basement—it’s unfinished, so it’s a little scary down there, but nothing too crazy.”
“This is great,” I said. “Really great.” I could see Riley and me here. We’d be close to her dad—to her family.
“So you’re feeling good about it then?” Ed asked. “Any questions?”
“Loads,” I said, “but I think we’re going to want this no matter what.”
Ed clapped his hands together. “Perfect! There are a few housekeeping items that Anne wanted me to go over with you. Is that okay?” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “Right now, she’ll have you sign a twelve-month lease. The lease can be renewed if—this part is a little bit of a bummer, sorry—Anne is still with us. If she passes on during the tenure of your lease, it’s contracted that you’ll be able to finish it out, but it’s up to the new owner’s discretion on whether or not you can renew.”
Christ, that was a downer. “Okay,” I said. “Does she already know whose hands the house will fall into if that happens?”
“She does, and they’ve agreed to these terms.”
“That’s fine with me,” I said. A year was plenty of time to figure my shit out—I hoped.
“The other stuff is less intense. She asks that you don’t make any structural changes to the home, but you’re welcome to hang things and do renter-friendly projects. The fireplace requires a lot of care, so she asks that you only use it if the groundskeeper gets it going and has permission to put it out.”
“Groundskeeper?” I asked. That was new.
“Oh, yeah,” Ed said with a “not a big deal” hand motion. “There’s a smaller house on the edge of the property—basically a studio apartment but in house form. It’s about two hundred square feet. Anne started renting it to a tenant last year. In exchange, he takes care of snow removal, yard work in the summer, and a lot of maintenance that Anne could no longer do. He’s been a godsend to her.”
“Who is it?” I asked, still wrapping my head around the fact that there was someone else on this property. That could be a game-changer.
“Maybe you know him,” Ed said, pulling out his phone. “He’s local. It’s Dusty Tucker.”