Chapter 21 Esme #2
“I keep thinking we’ll know it when we see it,” I said.
Grady squeezed my hand. “We’ll look at one more today, and then we’ll get some dinner.”
The sixth house was the one Robbie had declared the winner on paper.
Regardless, as we’d seen earlier that day, photos and descriptions could be misleading.
It was on Driftwood Lane, a quiet road not far from Seraphina’s house that curved away from the main part of town, climbing gently through a stand of Monterey pines before the trees opened up and the road ended at a wooden gate.
Behind the gate was a storybook coastal cottage, its shingles washed to the softest pale blue in the afternoon light, as if the ocean had lent it its color.
Blue-gray shutters framed tall, symmetrical windows trimmed in crisp white, and two dormer windows rose from the steep, weathered roof.
The wide front porch stretched across the entire face of the house, supported by clean white columns, wicker chairs for daydreaming or reading.
Beach grass and coastal sage grew right up to the front steps, golden and silver-green in the November light, brushing the simple stone path that led to the door.
Rosemary bushes flanked the porch, still fragrant, and hydrangeas lined the railing, faded to papery blue.
A few late roses clung on, pale and brave against the chill.
The rest of the garden was dormant—dried seed heads, bare stems, yellow grasses.
Regardless, I could see what it had been and what it would be again come spring.
A garden asleep would wake slowly, its treasures blooming and growing under the warmth of the sun.
All one needed was a little faith in the natural order of things.
Trevor stuck his head between the seats and barked.
“Trevor likes it,” Madison said.
“That’s obvious to us all,” Robbie said.
We got out of the car. I told myself not to get too excited, but it appeared at first glance to be exactly what we wanted. Lila had beat us there and sat on the steps waiting.
Madison ran toward her, shouting, with Trevor at her heels. “It’s a house from a story book.”
“She’s right,” I said to Grady. “It’s exactly what I want.”
Trevor was sniffing every bush and tree, his tail wagging.
“I knew this was the one,” Robbie said.
“Even Trevor knows it,” Grady said.
“Shall we?” Lila asked, standing.
We went inside. The front door opened into a wide entryway with wide-planked hardwood floors, honey-colored and gleaming.
Even on a gray day like today, light poured through windows on every wall.
A stone fireplace anchored the living room to the left, flanked by built-in bookshelves.
To the right, a dining room opened onto the porch through a set of French doors.
“Oh my gosh, look at that.” Madison pointed to the chandelier that hung over the dining room table. “It’s sparkling flowers.”
It was made of golden branches, twisting and intertwined, with dozens of crystal flowers blooming from every stem.
Each blossom caught the light and tossed tiny prisms across the walls.
It looked like someone had taken one of my arrangements, frozen it at its most beautiful moment, and hung it from the ceiling in gold and glass.
“I want to see the yard.” Madison, with Trevor on her heels, bolted through the French doors to the patio.
“I can see us here,” I said, almost afraid to say it out loud.
“I can too,” Grady said, taking my hand.
“Four bedrooms upstairs,” Lila said, consulting the listing on her phone. “Two and a half baths. The primary has an en suite. There’s a mudroom off the back and a detached garage with a loft that could be used for a workshop or office.”
“Let’s look at the kitchen,” Lila said, gesturing for us to follow her.
“Oh my goodness,” I said. “This is gorgeous.”
The ceilings soared, with white beadboard overhead and an arched window at the very top that let in a flood of sky.
The whole back wall was glass, with tall windows and another set of French doors that opened onto the deck, and, beyond that, the ocean.
The light that poured through bounced off the white cabinetry, wide-plank floors and the granite countertops of a massive island with a farmhouse sink right in the center.
Not tucked against a wall like at my apartment.
No, this was in the center of the room, where I could stand and wash dishes and look straight through those French doors at the Pacific Ocean.
I pressed my hands flat on the island counter and just stood there, trying to breathe.
“Esme?” Lila said. “What do you think?”
I’d spent years in a kitchen so small that, if I opened the oven door all the way, it hit the opposite cabinet.
I’d told myself it was fine. I didn’t need more.
However, standing in this kitchen, with the ocean framed in those French doors like a painting, I couldn’t believe this could really be ours.
My house with Grady. A house for our family.
“I feel like I should pinch myself,” I said. “I love it.”
“What about you, Grady?” Lila asked.
“I love it too,” Grady said. “But I want Esme to have whatever she wants.”
Life had beat me down for so long, I’d stopped dreaming. I’d been surviving. Spending days in a fog, on autopilot, stealing moments of joy with my friends and Grady and the kids. But under my survival skills had been constant fear and anxiety and a deep shame about how my life had transpired.
“Can we really have this one?” I asked Grady, feeling like a kid.
“We can. And we will.” Grady wrapped his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. “We’ll be a family here. A fresh start.”
“The beginning of forever?” I asked, resting my cheek against his shoulder.
Madison and Trevor came running in from their exploration of the patio and yard, bringing the scent of sea air with them.
“Trevor saw a bunny and started chasing it, but it got away. And there’s a giant apple tree.
I know it’s apple because I saw a few still on the branches.
They looked yucky, though, so don’t eat them. ”
I went closer to the window to see the tree for myself.
As Madison said, a few late apples still clung to the branches, stubborn and wind-battered, refusing to fall.
Like me. Too obstinate to let go, even when the world wanted me to.
But I didn’t have to hold on so tightly any longer to anything but Grady.
Madison smoothed her hand along the granite island. “This is fancy, like at Gillian’s house.”
Trevor made a circle around the island, wagging his tail, then went to sit by the window, staring out to the sea. He let out one short bark, as if calling out to any sea creature who might be listening.
Robbie came into the kitchen, jotting down notes on his spreadsheet. When he looked up, his eyes widened, clearly taking in the gorgeous kitchen. “Mother, this is worthy of your grilled cheese sandwiches.”
I smiled, nodding. “It sure is.”
Grady came to stand beside me at the island. “I could cook a lot of muffins in this kitchen.” He hauled Madison onto his hip to give her a better look. “What do you think, Sweet Pea?”
“It’s really pretty,” Madison said. “Too bad there’s not a chandelier in here.”
“There’s plenty of room for both of us in this kitchen,” I said.
“We should make cookies too,” Madison said.
“And pies,” Grady said.
“Let’s see the rest of the house,” Lila said, smiling.
We went upstairs. The primary bedroom was at the end of the hall and big enough for a king bed, a reading chair, a dresser, with an en suite bathroom that had a claw-foot tub and a window that framed the same ocean view.
I stood in the doorway, fighting tears as I imagined waking up here to the morning light and salt air.
Best of all, with Grady by my side. How could this be my life?
The second bedroom was smaller, painted pale yellow, with a window seat overlooking the garden.
Madison walked in, looked around once, and flopped onto the window seat, covering her face with her still-healing, casted arm like a damsel in distress.
Trevor sat on his haunches next to her, looking slightly worried.
She popped up, stroking his ears. “This could be my fainting seat. For when we play princess.”
Trevor barked.
Madison looked at Grady and me. “Can this one be mine? Trevor can take naps right here.” She patted the cushion beside her. “And I can see the apple tree from my window.”
The third bedroom was at the back of the house, the largest of the secondary rooms, with two windows that let in the morning sun and enough wall space for a desk, a bookshelf, and what I felt sure Robbie was already mentally mapping as a command center.
He stood in the middle of the room and turned slowly in a full circle. Then he pulled the tape measure from his pocket and measured the longest wall.
“Acceptable?” I asked.
“The dimensions are suitable for my desired setup with room for approximately thirty-seven percent expansion.” He put the tape measure away. “Additionally, the natural light from the east-facing window is optimal for sustained focus during morning study sessions.”
“Is that a yes?” Grady asked.
“It’s an acknowledgment that the space meets the requirements outlined in my original analysis.” He paused, his mouth twitching into a smile. “So, yes.”
The fourth bedroom was a perfect guest room for Grady’s sister and her family or my parents. That thought sobered me somewhat. A visit from my parents? Where they were staying day and night with us? However, there was an inn not far from here, perfectly suitable for my mother.