4. Renee
Renee
Fashionably late was the only way to show up to a meeting with Susan Benoit, so it was ten minutes past eleven that Saturday morning when Renee walked into Cafe Lorraine and found her mother sitting at a table near a window.
The place was packed as usual, and soothing jazz filled the air while light streamed in from the wall of gorgeous windows overlooking a mostly full patio.
The restaurant was the only brunch spot in Oakview—or the surrounding towns for that matter—and the patio was prime real estate, even during the hot summer.
Her mother would never be caught sweating, though, so there were about six months a year when they didn’t try to get seats out there.
Renee slid onto a chair at the table where a mimosa was already waiting for her.
“I was just about to check the hospitals for you,” her mother said before brushing back her perfectly blown-out long red hair and taking a sip of her own mimosa.
“Dramatic much?”
It was the same song and dance. Renee showed up late to brunch because she couldn’t stand spending more time with her mother than completely necessary, and Susan Benoit made a fuss about punctuality.
“If I were consistently late,” her mother said, “my clients would no longer use my services.”
“Good thing I’m not a client.”
Sometimes she wondered about that. Even when she was a kid, she had to make appointments to spend time with her mother.
And being twelve and having a soccer game was not a good enough excuse for her mother to turn down or reschedule a surprise appointment.
Clients first. Houses don’t sell themselves, she always said.
“Really, Renee? Must we have this conversation every month? Would you rather I not have had a career?”
If it were just work, Renee might understand. But there had been an endless stream of “can’t miss” social events throughout Renee’s life. It was how she had become so close to Aunt Ellen. She probably spent more time at her house than her own.
But her mother wasn’t wrong. Their monthly—before Renee moved—brunch usually deteriorated into a rehashing of old wounds. They just didn’t always begin this way.
“Fine, we’ll start over.” Renee took a deep breath. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”
Her mother relaxed into the question and snatched the opportunity handed to her. “Oh, you know. Busy. We have a lot of inventory to move right now. And I’m going to visit your aunt and cousins in Mandeville next Friday.”
“Next Friday is the will reading.”
Her mother might have missed a lot of things in Renee’s life, and she certainly wouldn’t be around much to help with the house, but she wouldn’t miss that.
“I know. I’ll be following them to Mandeville afterward. You should come with us.”
A weekend of family cooing over babies and talking about who’s having babies and lamenting how the older kids are no longer babies sounded like a grand time.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said. “So I guess they’re all coming in for the will reading.”
“Well, she was their sister and aunt also.”
“Right,” Renee said, taking a sip of her drink. The orange juice burned as it went down, and she desperately wished there was more champagne in it to get through this brunch.
Since Aunt Ellen didn’t have any kids of her own, it made sense she’d most likely split her estate between her nieces and nephews. Or maybe her two sisters. Whatever she did would be fair. She’d been the kindest and most honest person Renee had ever known.
Losing her so suddenly was unfair. A stroke, they said. Too young, everyone agreed. The two weeks since her passing hadn’t dulled the pain much either.
There had been no funeral to come back for, so Renee did most of her processing alone.
Aunt Ellen wanted everyone to do their grieving, then gather for a celebration of life.
While they were apparently going to be hands off with packing up the house, her mother and her sisters could at least have a hand in planning that.
She wasn’t holding her breath on it, though.
“How about you, honey? How are you lately?”
“Busy,” Renee mimicked.
“You aren’t traveling back and forth, are you?”
“No, I can do almost everything from here for the next couple of weeks, at least.”
She was wrapping up a case, and two others involved internet searches, so she could do most things remotely. Which was why she’d been available to take a new case here.
Renee had always listed Oakview as a second location on her website, but she never thought anyone from here would actually find her. But Jessica had, and the timing worked out just right.
Was she really taking that case, though?
A dog custody case. How the heck had her career led here?
She’d wanted to say no to the ridiculous request. But those pleading golden-brown eyes had roped her in. When had she become such a sucker for a pretty woman in distress?
And Jessica had been pretty, with those big brown waves of long hair and her pretty little mouth paired with a cute little nose.
No. Uh-uh. No way was she thinking about how pretty a client was. She had boundaries. Even if she was open to considering a relationship with anyone—and she wasn’t—this woman in particular would be off-limits.
“Well, that’s good,” her mother said. “You have enough on your plate without having to commute.”
Renee thought about how she’d have less on her plate if the rest of the family were more inclined to help her out with the house. Then again, she was the one who’d spent the most time there.
“Speaking of what’s on my plate,” she said. “Can we put some food on mine? I’m starving and should get back to the house to make a game plan.”
Her mother smiled politely and picked up her menu. “Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
“What room should we start in?”
Renee looked around and considered the question. She was overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted from brunch with her mother, but this had to be done.
“I don’t know. Maybe the back guest bedroom? Start with the least emotional space?”
Ben stood nearby, his legs looking a little longer in his weekend shorts, a far cry from the button-downs and dress pants he wore in his day job as a loan officer. He shrugged and picked up an empty cardboard box. “Sounds good to me.”
Together they went down the hall and turned into the door at the end. Inside, there was a double bed with an old patchwork quilt over top of it. It was a tidy space with the only other things in the room being a set of light oak dressers and a nightstand.
Renee walked over to the closet and pulled open the louver doors. She found neat rows of linens and pillows along with a box of cat toys. No big deal there. But on the floor was a three-foot stack of clear plastic boxes labeled as photos from different decades.
“I stand corrected,” she said.
Ben let out a low whistle. “How about we make an area for stuff to go through later? Like a staging area. You can go through whatever is in that spot when you’re ready.”
Renee nodded and sighed. “Good idea.”
A furry body pressed against her leg, and Renee bent down to pet the cat’s head.
Ben squatted beside them and petted the orange tabby’s back. “Hey there, Barthy.”
Renee laughed. “Barthy? That sounds like vomit. Don’t call my aunt’s cat vomit.”
“Fine,” Ben huffed. “Bartholomew is such a mouthful, though.”
“Put some respect on his name, man.” She stood straight and continued to look down at the creature. “Do you think he misses her?”
“Of course, he does,” Ben said, continuing to fawn over the cat, who was clearly loving the attention. “He’s probably confused.”
Renee knew little about animal behavior, and she’d never had much use even for this guy.
When she’d visit her aunt, they were friendly but gave each other a respectable distance.
With Aunt Ellen’s death and Rene moving in temporarily, the poor guy did seem to be confused and lonely if he was desperate enough to come to her for attention.
“What am I going to do with him?” She shook her head. “I can’t keep him. Don’t even ask.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I know your stance on all things with more than two legs.”
“Could you take him?”
Ben waved his hands in front of him. “Oh, no. Even if I was equipped with the ability to keep something like that alive, my landlord has a no-pets policy. He kicked out his last tenant for sneaking in a hamster.”
“I’d hate to take him to the shelter. Can you think of anyone who would want a sweet but probably slightly traumatized cat?”
“Nope,” Ben said. “But I’ll ask around. And I’ll see if there are any rescue groups in the area who could help out.”
“Thanks. That would be super helpful.”
“No problem.” He looked around the room. “I wish I could do more.”
“You’re here,” she said. “That’s a lot.”
“Since I’m here, I might as well do my job and keep you on task.” He patted the empty cardboard box on the floor beside him. Bartholomew immediately hopped inside it, prompting a chuckle from Ben. “How about we clear out that nightstand. That sounds like a manageable start.”
Renee agreed, and they went to work emptying the two drawers. It was mostly items that needed to be trashed or donated. Nothing of note.
She had decided to make an initial pass through the house, getting rid of stuff that no one would want.
She’d take anything she wanted first, since she’d been the person to spend the most time there and since she was the person doing all the work.
Then she figured she’d call in her aunts and cousins to take a turn going through there before setting everything up for an estate sale.
“One spot down. Where next?”
Ben made a quick pass around the room. “The rest of the furniture’s empty.”
So much for spending time in an easy space.
“I guess we should get a start on the master bedroom. It isn’t a room I ever spent much time in, so maybe it won’t be too bad.”
Ben waved a hand. “Lead the way.”
They walked around the side of the hallway to the large master bedroom. She immediately realized her mistake. Just walking in there, she could feel her aunt’s presence.
But the job needed to be done.
They decided to tackle the taller dresser first. Less chance of her finding anything really sentimental in there.
And she was right on that, at least. The top two drawers held socks and underwear, all of which went into the trash bag. Nothing sentimental about socks. Still, it felt so weird to be throwing her things away, and Renee had to fight back tears multiple times.
It was too early for tears. Especially tears over socks and underwear. There would be plenty to get emotional about as they went along. She’d have to pace her emotions.
“You know,” Ben said. “You could do all of this without the ticking clock. On your own time? Still can’t convince you to consider staying here?”
Renee opened the third drawer and shook her head. “It’s too much house for just me. My aunt loved it, but I don’t need the upkeep.” She dug around in the drawer, pulling out T-shirts and resisting the urge to smell them all. “Plus, it’s Oakview.”
“Oakview has its charm.”
“Oakview has my mother.” She placed the T-shirts in an empty tub. “Should we keep these for the estate sale or donate them?”
Ben took a quick glance at the folded items and their tags. “Donate, I think.”
Renee opened the next drawer and raised a brow in question at him.
“Unless they’re designer, donate.”
Renee nodded and pulled them out.
“We could be roommates,” Ben said, returning their conversation to the house issue. “I’d pay you rent and mow the grass.”
Renee laughed at that. “Sure you would.”
“Okay, I’d pay someone to mow the grass.”
“Doesn’t matter. Not happening. There’s no way I could afford to buy out my relatives.”
“Speaking of money,” Ben said. “You never told me how that potential client meeting went.”
Renee chuckled. “It went.”
She thought about Jessica sitting in the chair beside her, looking sad and distraught. All she’d wanted to do was help her out, ignoring the alarm bells going off in her brain.
“Scandalous?”
“Not really,” she said. “It’s a dog custody case, if you can believe it.”
It was Ben’s turn to laugh. “Maybe not scandalous, but certainly interesting. Please tell me you took the case.”
“I did.” She must not be in her right mind since losing her aunt, because twenty-four hours later, it still sounded like a bad idea.
A bad idea she was locked into now. “I’m doing surveillance on Wednesday.
That’s when the client said the dog will be with the other owner, and I’m supposed to make sure she’s taking care of the dog.
Probably nothing to see. Just an overly concerned owner going through a breakup. Messy stuff, but nothing nefarious.”
“I’m rooting for nefarious.”
She tossed a pair of jeans at him. “You would.”