Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kate
F urniture helps take the sting out of joblessness.
I was lying on my new dark mahogany bed, wrapped in blankets.
I glanced over. Chaucer was curled up on his blanket bed, head on his paws, watching me.
“Good morning, sweet boy. We really have our own home now.” It hadn’t felt like it before, sleeping in the car, propped sideways in a chair.
But now, lying comfortably in a bed, rested, the sky outside the windows bleeding orange in the coming sunrise, I had a deep and satisfying feeling of home.
I was taking this room as my bedroom. I’d considered the smaller one across the hall, as it had always been the one I stayed in when I visited, but Gran’s had the attached bathroom and large windows looking out to Dorr Point, a view I would never tire of.
Kicking off the blankets, I sat up. Chaucer rose as well, coming over for his morning scratch and hug.
“It doesn’t feel like Gran’s room anymore.
Everything’s different.” I studied the off-white walls and heart pine floors.
“Let’s paint. Paint doesn’t cost too much.
We’ll make this room—this house—all our own.
” I stood. “But first, let’s get breakfast.”
Chaucer raced out of the room and down the stairs.
I wasn’t going to fall back into the gloom.
I didn’t have a job, but I did have a beautiful home, one I no longer shared with snickering marmosets.
I had a bed to sleep in and a bureau to hold my clothes.
I had tables to set things on and chairs to sit in.
I had some money in the bank, even after I returned Mom’s loan.
I did not know what the hell was going on with Aiden, grumpy and dismissive one minute, kissing me the next. Regardless, this wasn’t about him. It was about me, standing on my own, starting a new life.
As for the matter of being unemployed, I liked cooking, so I’d try to find a job that allowed me to cook. If it took me a few months to find a job, I’d survive. Gran’s house was paid for and I knew how to live lean.
I fed Chaucer and then opened the back door for him. While he went potty, I poured myself a bowl of cereal. As I didn’t have a job, the day was my own. I grabbed a notepad and pen from Gran’s junk drawer and began to write my to-do list for the day.
When Chaucer trotted back in, I closed the door before sitting back down.
The nights and mornings up here were frigid.
Chaucer sat by my side, resting his head on my lap.
“So, here’s what I’m thinking. I need bedding and a phone.
I’d like a bathroom rug. Those tiles are flipping freezing.
I also need Wi-Fi.” I thought about the long, quiet nights.
“Maybe a TV?” I scratched behind his ears.
“Too extravagant? Maybe I should hit a used bookstore instead.”
* * *
It had been a good day. I had accomplished a great deal, and I’d done it on my own.
I’m sure the distracted teenage boy working in the phone store thought I was being indecisive, staring at the phones, hearing about all the options.
The reality was that it had all become white noise, a kind of buzzing that vibrated through my brain.
It was an old fear response to doing something wrong.
Strength isn’t always apparent or even noticed.
I stood in that store, staring at the phones on the counter, and with Herculean effort, I pushed the old self-doubt out of my head.
Strangely, it was Aiden’s shout of “insane!” that helped me shake off the specter of my ex’s ever-present disapproval.
I took a deep, clean breath and made a decision for myself. It was the first of many.
I stopped by Mo’s boutique, mostly to say hello but also to look for jeans. In cleaning every inch of Gran’s house, I’d found a couple of plastic totes in the back of the guest-room closet. They contained winter boots and sweaters, so now I really only needed some casual pants.
The bell above the door chimed and Mo walked out of the back room. “Katie, you’re back.” She gave me a quick hug. “How’s the hot dog life treating you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not well. I was fired.”
“Fired? Why would Chuck do that?” Mo looked outraged on my behalf. “People have been telling me what a great job you’re doing.”
It was surprising how much better that bit of praise made me feel.
“Well, yesterday I needed a moment. I was a little emotional. I closed the customer panel during lunchtime hours, just for a few minutes, but Chuck was upset. Aiden tried to defend me but only made it worse. So, long story short, I’m out of a job. ”
Confusion colored Mo’s expression. “Wait. What was Aiden doing there?”
What to say, what to say? “He brought your grandfather by so he could apologize.”
Hands on hips, she pinned me with a glare. “What did Pops do that required an apology? An apology that made you upset enough to close the panel and then get fired!”
Now I wished I’d just waved and walked by. “It was nothing. I’ll find another job.”
“In the Harbor? At this time of year? No. You won’t.” She started pacing, her eyes sparking. “I’m hearing all manner of gossip about those two and you. Aiden tried to arrest you?”
“What? P’fft, no way.” I moved toward the door.
“He pounded on the food truck and threatened to write a health-code violation against you on your first day? He confiscated your dog? Forced you to give him free food?”
Where the hell was she getting her information? Was there a nanny cam in the truck?
“I hear your house was overrun with animals, absolutely unlivable, and did either of them offer you a room? No. Those bastards let you sleep in your car! Your husband cut off your bank accounts, and you’ve been living on peanut butter. Did they help? No!”
Holding up a hand, I tried to stem the stream of accusations. “Actually, Aiden brought me groceries a couple of days ago.” I nodded. “It was very kind of him.”
“Kind? He’s had a thing for you since he was a little kid. Yet he let you starve and sleep in a car for weeks before he finally did the easiest decent thing he could think of.”
Leaning forward, I whispered, “Seriously, how do you know all of this?”
She strode to the window. “Katie,” she said, voice resigned.
“It’s a small town. We all know each other’s business.
People heard you in the park, saw the blankets in your car, talked to the exterminator, chatted with the appraiser, were standing in line behind you in the store.
Bits and pieces were pasted together until a picture emerged.
Unfortunately, it’s a picture that highlights the fact that my family is filled with heartless bastards. ”
“I wouldn’t say filled . You’ve been wonderful. You gave me some great deals.” I smiled broadly to her back, hoping she’d turn, but she didn’t.
“I sold you clothes from my shop at the marked price. I wasn’t exactly doing charity work.”
“Not true. You found me great clothes that I desperately needed at a price I could pay. And your grandfather just gave me a bunch of his old furniture.”
Mo turned at that. “He did?”
Smiling, I continued, “He and Aiden went through the attic and basement, pulling pieces, cleaning, and hauling them over. I slept in a bed last night! I cannot express strongly enough how wonderful that was.” I held up a hand. “That was okay, right? Aiden said you didn’t want it.”
She waved away the concern. “I told Pops years ago I didn’t like it.
Too dark for me.” Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath.
“They’ve both been so bitter. Alice. Then your grandmother dying.
Both of them haven’t been themselves for too long.
” She studied me. “They brought you food and furniture? Argued with Chuck about firing you?” At my nod, she grinned and threw an arm around me.
“Excellent! Now, what can I do for you?”
* * *
Russet leaves swirled in the wake of the cars driving up Main toward the old farm road that led to Gran’s. I had the back windows open so Chaucer could hang out, enjoying the wind and scents bombarding him.
When we pulled up to the house, I couldn’t help but think home .
This was my home. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get these bags inside.
” I opened the back door for Chaucer, who jumped down and immediately began patrolling the area.
Interesting. He’d never done that before.
He’d sniffed. He’d meandered. He’d definitely sauntered, but he’d never patrolled.
Newfoundlands were water rescue dogs, not shepherds or guard dogs.
Perhaps this was feeling like home to him as well, one that needed to be protected by the man of the house.
In addition to the television I’d purchased after leaving Mo’s boutique, I’d also picked up some new bedding. I wanted to make Gran’s house my own, starting with the bedroom.
The sheets I chose were a rich, buttery cream color. The warm down comforter was a vibrant teal, Van Gogh’s flowering almond tree painted across the fabric, delicate but brimming with life. Justin preferred subtle earth tones, nothing too bright or garish. I was desperate for color.
After the linens store, I stopped at the hardware store for paint and painting supplies. They even had a small coffeemaker on sale, so I bought that, too.
I considered the spot on the top of the paint can. I’d chosen a color somewhere between periwinkle and violet. It was a bold choice, and a joyous one. How long did it take to paint a room? I wanted to sleep in my new bedding in a violet room tonight.
I brought in everything, weighed down, trudging up the stairs. It felt good. I was taking steps, making decisions. Chaucer got sick of following me up and down the stairs, though, choosing to flop onto his bed and watch the action instead.