Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Willow followed close behind; her eyes sparkling with undisclosed mirth. Between them, she placed napkins and silverware as if she was setting a formal table. She adjusted her fork’s position as if she had a sight ruler in her head.
Both took seats. Curiosity overwhelmed her. Rose asked, “You’re especially bright this morning.” She picked up her soda. “Finally have a successful blind date?”
A single beat of laughter as Willow shook her head. “Haven’t had time to date. I drove down to Asheville yesterday to meet with a real estate agent.”
Rose lowered the glass bottle to the table without taking a sip. “Are you thinking of buying a place?”
Willow nodded. “My sales on Etsy are high. I can’t sew fast enough.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
She tilted her head. “It’s always been a someday sort of thing. I never thought I’d be able to buy my own place, much less my own store. My latest research says otherwise.” Her eyes looked lighter than they had in weeks.
“This is amazing!” Rose knew little about opening a physical storefront, but Willow’s excitement was catching. “How did it go?”
“Nothing yet. My ideal’s a place with a loft apartment. The agent said it could take a bit.”
“Of course, it’ll take a bit. You want something with huge display windows. I can’t wait. When you open your own store, it’ll be an awesome success.” The clothing Willow made represented a love of artistic creation.
Willow flushed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Time will tell. The winter lines are still coming in at Posh. So much overtime. Doesn’t leave me lots of time to walk through buildings with real estate agents.”
“Will, why are you helping me with the house? You should be with your agent. Or putting your feet up and?—”
“It’s fine. It wouldn’t be right for you to pack up everyone’s inherited stuff. Besides, it’s nice to spend time at the house. Helps a bit.”
Rose knew exactly what she meant. She reached out her hand.
Willow took it and squeezed. “We were lucky to have her.”
Rose squeezed back, then let go. She had a feeling they all felt that.
“When you meet with your agent again, I could go with you. It’d be fun to do something for you instead of the house. We could make a day of it, invite Aspen and Simi.”
“I’ll think about it. I’ve talked to Simi, bounced some display ideas off her.”
“She’s a talent at interior design.”
“She is.”
“Aspen?”
Willow worried her lower lip. “Maybe. I haven’t told her about trying to find a shop. She’ll be angry after she helped me get the job at Posh.”
Irritation ran up her spine. She’d never liked Willow’s decision to work for the Posh family. Especially after she described the job as soul sucking. The small amount of make-up she wore never hid the shadows beneath her eyes. “You’ve given those parasites plenty of your time, especially after?—”
Willow held up her hand. “Let’s not go there.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to crush your sparkle.”
She tilted her head. “Sparkle?”
“You looked happy, confident when you walked in.”
A young man with pulled back dark hair set large colorful plates in front of each of them.
Each plate held an assortment of street tacos alongside black beans and lime cilantro rice.
They each thanked him. Rose reached for her fork.
Chipotle sauce zigzagged over the open-faced mixture of chicken and pork.
Outside of expressive murmurs over each delicious mouthful, they were silent.
Willow set her fork down, leaned back. “This tastes amazing, but I need a break.” A smile accompanied her sparkling eyes.
Rose quirked an eyebrow.
She said, “I stopped for coffee earlier. I may have had a scone. Sketched some ideas for potential displays.”
Needing a food break herself, Rose sat back, folded her arms. “Your day off. You paid it forward.”
The lightest flush appeared on her cheeks. “I did. The customer behind me needed some kindness. I hadn’t seen him before.”
“Him?”
“Yes. Him. A bit grouchy, a little bit scary. Even more so after my gesture.”
“Some have a hard time accepting gifts.”
She nodded, picked up her fork again, poking at the remaining rice on her plate. “Precisely. Molly, bless her, wouldn’t take his money, whoever he was.”
“Must have been one of the suited commuters.”
“You misunderstand. No suit, he looked a mess, scruffy, as if he’d slept with his clothes on.” Her voice lowered as if she was talking to herself. “Striking blue eyes, though.”
Her description didn’t sound like anyone she knew. But Willow was the sort to notice those who needed kindness or a little help.
They finished their tacos. Rose listened to Willow talk about her excursion into Asheville, heard her opinion on the storefronts she’d viewed with her agent so far. She hadn’t taken photos.
“None come close to what I want.”
After lunch, they went to Briar House. A truck from HK Renovations, the company she’d hired to do the renovations, sat in the driveway.
Rose spoke with the three person crew working on the dining room.
Inside, two stood on scaffolding, working on reconstructing the ceiling.
Another confirmed her paint selections for the ceiling, the walls, and the trim.
Rose could have gone with wallpaper, tried to recreate the previous appearance of the room, but she wanted something different.
Something cheerful. The house deserved it after all the years of faded wallpaper.
After Rose finished speaking with the crew, she found Willow in the middle of the morning room, arms folded. “I’ve always found the furniture in this room strange.” She nudged the fainting couch. “This especially.”
Rose shrugged. “I like it. It’s a relic from another time.”
“It should be reupholstered. I can still see the wine stain from Aspen’s engagement party.”
Rose moved closer, leaned down, not seeing anything.
Willow moved toward the fireplace. The painted portrait of Magnolia’s horse, Lady, hung above its mantle. The painting accurately portrayed the sheen of her dark coat, the dark strands of her mane.
Without a word, Willow backed away and exited the room. She returned with the house’s six foot ladder and planted it in front of the fireplace.
“Will—what are you doing?”
“I think Lady’s frame is cracked.” From the third rung, she examined the painting, then ran her fingers all the way around its frame.
Then turned to Rose. “Sadly, I’m correct.
There’s a sizable crack here.” She pointed at an upper section of the frame.
“It could fall off the wall, damage the canvas.”
Rose moved closer. Sure enough, a long crack ran through one side. It was amazing it hadn’t fallen. “What should I do?”
Willow carefully lifted it off the wall. “I know an archival framer. He’ll be able to reframe it.” She stepped off the ladder, holding the painting with careful hands.
The wall looked empty without it. “How long will she be gone?”
“I’ll drop it off on my way home. They usually have a four-week turnaround time.”
Rose nodded. She had a feeling Willow needed to do this. She disappeared once more, to set the painting on the kitchen table.
When she returned, she said, “Maybe we should tag the items we know go to the others to make moving things out of here easier.”
It was a smart suggestion. The family was coming on Saturday to move boxes and furniture. Most of the items in this room stayed, especially the tea tray and its cart. Rose couldn’t imagine them anywhere else. It defined years of memories and tradition within this room.
“That’s a great idea. Let’s get started. Then I can help you with the attic.”
Part of Willow’s inheritance included the entirety of the house’s attic. It was an unusual thing to put in a will. Magnolia had known about Willow’s dream of opening her own shop. Perhaps she thought those items would be of use for such an endeavor.
A few hours later, they’d tagged some items and brought down others from the attic to load in Willow’s Subaru Outback. Thorne had already agreed by text to help her move the bigger pieces into a local storage shed next time he was in town.
Willow left with the painting and everything else in her car.
Rose picked up her phone and called Aspen. Their conversation wasn’t an easy one. Aspen’s reasons for her interference were petty. By the end of the call, Aspen had apologized and promised to make amends to Finn.