Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
B rody Bates showed up at Briar House in worn jeans and a logo’d blue polo shirt.
A ball cap sat backwards on his head atop collar-length wavy brown hair.
He stood a tad taller than Rose in leather work-boots.
It took him an hour to go through each level of the house, walk the roof, and wriggle through the crawl space.
His father had been the one to inspect the dining room days prior, per Broome’s recommendation.
Brody was doing what his father hadn’t had time for. A full home inspection. After the dining room disaster, it was needed.
Rose tried to take notes on everything he told her. He spoke fast. It was hard to keep up.
He said, “Rot’s common here with our weather and all the trees. Did you know you’ve got a chimney pulling away from the house? In the parlor.”
“Seriously? That can happen?” How had no one noticed this after the roof replacement fifteen months ago?
He caressed his scruff of a beard. “Yeah, it happens. Looks like there’s a nest of some kind up there in the gap.”
“Great.” She grimaced and wrote in the small notebook in her hand. Spiders, snakes, she could handle. It came with the territory they lived in. This sounded like more. Something she couldn’t deal with on her own. In capital letters, she scribbled NOT MY TASK across a line .
Brody led her past the stairs and into the ballroom. Even though he’d already gone room to room looking for issues, he seemed transfixed by the space as he studied the trio of large crystal chandeliers overhead. The room looked like a film set from a Regency mini-series.
He said, “My grandparents told me stories about this place. They loved coming here, said the New Year’s Eve party was the event of the year.”
He glanced at his clipboard and motioned to the longest wall, the part of the house that lived in permanent shade. “We need to treat for termites. All the drywall needs replacing, along with some of the support beams. The moisture rating in this room is higher than the rest of the house.”
She made a frustrated sound, but wrote it down.
“Termites are common here with all the rain. Had them in my own house two years ago. We’re on a yearly maintenance plan.”
“So, termite treatment and annual plan.” She wrote the words down, her penmanship jagged and harried.
“Old houses are great until they’re not taken care of.” He looked regretful. “I wish Ms. Magnolia had called us years ago. We could have prevented some of these things.”
Rose said, “I don’t think she could have known these things by looking at the house. I had no idea, and I’ve been back for two years.”
She took another look around the ballroom. Had any of them walked the rooms of the house during holidays and family events with the thought of maintenance? How could one tell a wall needed replacing when it looked like every other faded wall in the house, especially those covered with wallpaper?
The man she’d thought of as her grandfather had likely managed these things. After he passed, Magnolia might not have known the level of what was needed. When she lost her daughter and all of them moved in, termites were likely the last thing on her mind.
Downstairs, Brody showed her how some windows were painted shut. “People thought it kept the house warmer in the winter.”
Her brows furrowed. Tess often had the windows open in the kitchen, but the rest of the downstairs, she’d never noticed. What moron did such things? Magnolia would never be so impractical. It must have been an ancestor.
He chuckled. “It makes no sense, but people do funny things to save money.”
They moved upstairs. He explained more of his findings, including the integrity of the remaining ceilings. He explained the plumbing issues that contributed to the dining room collapse. The info was familiar. His father had gone over that yesterday by phone.
He flipped a few pages as they took the stairs back down toward the front entry. “I checked the electrical as well.”
She supposed that was a normal inspection thing. “And?”
“You hadn’t noticed any problems?”
“No.”
More scribbles. “Amazing you haven’t noticed.
Not all the outlets work. I recommend a full update of the electrical, including the wiring on the ballroom chandeliers.
It would be tragic to see a fire spark after all the improvements you’ll be thinking of.
I’ll give you the name of an electrician.
He’s worked on a bunch of the older homes in Asheville. Does solid work.”
Rose swallowed. This was going to be expensive. It was one thing to inherit the house she loved, another to consider whether she could afford to keep it. She had some money saved, with more coming in from her latest book release. She needed to meet with Broome to get his thoughts on all this.
Brody stowed his camera and put his clipboard back in his bag. “I’ll have a full report with my photos in a few days.”
She opened the door for him but hesitated. “If she were yours, would you spend the money to fix her?”
He didn’t answer at first, studied her as if trying to figure something out. He clicked his pen a few times and said, “She. That means she’s not just a house to you. I’ve heard other stories, not just from my grandparents.”
He pressed his palm on the door frame as if the contact provided additional insight. “She’s got memories, this one. Harbored her share of ghosts through the years. She won’t go easily—she’ll put up a fight.”
Rose wrapped her arms around herself, unsure of what to say.
She didn’t believe in ghosts. But she’d grown up with the stories, too.
Everyone considered local had. They shared stories of old Macintosh Everson roaming the grounds with his shovel, digging holes for more trees.
Of Magnolia’s favorite horse, Lady, galloping around the edge of the property after the barn fire.
Even the sons who never came home from Europe during World War Two.
They marched through the forests more often than she did, if the rumors were to be believed.
Magnolia had called the stories ridiculous, but said if it kept people from trespassing, she’d tolerate it. She preferred her privacy.
Brody looked pensive. “I won’t lie to you. She’ll be a significant investment. I’d prioritize safety. Then I’d go with what’s important to you, shop around on the restoration and any updates you’re interested in. I know Dad gave you a list of fully licensed and insured contractors we recommend.”
She nodded.
“Any of those names would compete to fix up this old place. They all do fine work.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“You’ll want to look into grants, too. There are a few historical societies in the county and the state that might support your efforts.”
She said, “I didn’t think of that.”
“In the long run, my opinion doesn’t matter. I’m guessing there’s a reason she’s yours, that she means something to you. I’d keep her, fix her. It might take years, but she’s worth it.”
She opened the door the rest of the way, followed him onto the porch. Dry leaves crunched beneath her shoes.
Brody clicked his pen again. “You might consider turning it into a bed-and-breakfast. People love old houses and will pay to stay in them. You’ll make your money back.”
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and gave her a half-smile.
She thanked him again and closed the front door when she heard his truck start.
Briar House as a bed-and-breakfast. That would never happen. The ghosts she didn’t believe in would protest for sure.