Newport Harbor House

by Cindy Caldwell

  “Great,” Joe said as he shook Jen’s dad’s hand again and nodded at Susanna and the girls. “Count me in.”

  Joe headed down to the harbor along with Michael and Amber. After they’d gone, Jen looked up and down the street once more for Greg.

  “Dad, are we going to talk about this or not? I know you got a price range that Dirk thought would be realistic for selling the house. And you said you and Greg have been talking about it.”

  Jen’s dad sat down beside Susanna, who mercifully had not joined in much conversation—so far. Unfortunately, it didn’t last.

  Susanna happily chimed in. “They have been talking about it. A lot. In fact, we cancelled a couple dinners because of it. I tell Jim, ‘You don’t need to be worrying about all of that old stuff. We have places to go, things to see.’”

  Jen thought she actually heard Carrie and Faith gasp behind her. They were on the other side of the deck, pretending not to listen, but Jen had the same reaction.

  Jen’s dad shifted in his seat and rested his hand on Susanna’s knee.

  “Well, Susanna’s not completely wrong. We have some trips planned, and I just don’t want to worry about all this. I know you guys love the house, but I’ve had my fun here. I want to see some other places while I still have time. And Susanna and I mean to make it happen.”

  Jen’s spoon dropped to the table with a thud. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She shook her head and rallied.

  “Okay. Greg and I will just take care of things. Just keep things the way they are. No huge repairs—or I’ll figure out how to make that happen. Let’s just not sell.”

  Jen’s dad shook his head slowly and stood, reaching for Susanna’s hand.

  “I’m okay with whatever you decide to do. But that’s a lot of money to just turn up your nose at, Jen. You need to think this through.”

  Jen had thought it through. More times than she could count. The memories—old and yet to come—meant more to her than money. Allen had left her comfortable enough, and she still owned her other house. She could make it work.

  Sure, things were lean, but she was safe. And if something happened to the beach house, she would never in a million years have the money to buy something different.

  “I have thought it through, Dad. Hear me out.”

  “Honey, I have heard you out. And I’ve heard Greg out, more times than I wanted to.”

  “That’s the truth,” Susanna said with a giggle. “I told him just get rid of it. You don’t need to worry about that stuff.”

  This time, Jen’s dad actually steered Susanna toward the gate and pulled on his jacket. He gave her a bit of a stern look—one Jen knew well. She mouthed the word, “Sorry,” and covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I decided that this house is really your and Greg’s inheritance anyway, from your mother’s side of the family. Not mine to worry about anymore. So I had things changed. It belongs to you now, equally. You can decide what to do—the two of you together. And whatever you decide is fine by me. I know you’ll make a great decision.”

  Jen was utterly speechless as her dad said his goodbyes to Faith and Carrie, who looked as shocked as she felt. He hustled Susanna out the gate and headed down the street, Susanna taking two steps to his every one to keep up.

  “Well, that’s quite a turn of events,” Faith finally said as Jen’s father turned the corner, looked back and waved.

  “That is the understatement of the century.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Carrie asked.

  “I can’t imagine it’s good,” Faith said slowly. “Now you’re stuck with just Greg.”

  Jen ran her hands through her hair. “And he won’t even talk to me. But I guess now with Dad out of the mix, he’ll have to. Whether he likes it or not.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Joe paused for a moment and watched Jen’s son drive away. He could barely wrap his head around how much time had passed. He was over six feet tall, but when Joe looked at him, he saw him as a toddler. Even still.

  He was strong and kind—he could tell. Allen would have been so proud.

  He shook off the memories and headed down to the gondolier dock.

  “Sorry to have to call you, Joe.” Frank, a big, burly man his father’s age, pointed to the gondola he’d be steering. “These young kids. I tell ya. Guess they had better things to do on a holiday.”

  Joe was no stranger to having better things to do than work a gondola. He’d done it all through high school and college, and he and Allen had been tempted to bail on work more times than he could count. But they never had. People made their reservations months in advance, and many were for special occasions. He’d never had the heart to disappoint them, which was why he was there now, holding onto the gondola as his clients stepped in.

  He’d heard that it was a wedding proposal—from a soldier back from a tour for a brief time who’d wanted to do it on the Fourth especially. There was no way he was going to let him down, and he gave him a wink as the man helped his girlfriend into the gondola.

  He had a special route he liked for these kinds of events—into the back, smaller bays with quiet houses and calmer water. He didn’t talk much this trip, as the couple was chatting and looking at all the houses decorated for the holiday.

  With a smile and a nod to the future groom—at least he hoped that was how it would turn out—he guided the gondola to a stop and waited, quietly, while the man proposed. He did his best not to listen and tried to distract himself counting how many of these scenes he’d witnessed over the years. In his life as an accountant, doing people’s taxes had never been as rewarding, and he realized that he’d missed this. Being with people.

  The pretty woman’s tears and an excited screech let him know that the mission had been successful, and he turned the gondola back toward their pier. As they continued to chat and make plans, he looked around at the harbor. So much had changed. And then he thought of Michael’s face, so much like Allen, and realized that some things hadn’t changed at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “All right, Greg. Dad told me that the house is yours and mine and you’d better call me back as soon as you can. It’s time to have this out once and for all.”

  By the time Jen hung up, she was so mad she could spit.

  Not only had Greg known about this change, but he had blown off coming down on purpose, so that her dad could break the news to her. She just knew it.

  “What a coward,” she said when she joined Faith and Carrie on the porch. The fireworks over the bay would be starting soon, and they had prime seats and a chilled bottle of wine.

  Carrie rubbed her eyes and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “I honestly don’t recognize him anymore. He was always so nice when we were little. Remember that time he fixed your surfboard—before you gave it up? And he was always willing to go swim across the bay with us, and take us down to the water when our parents said we couldn’t go alone. What happened to that big brother? He was so nice I was jealous I didn’t have one.”

  “I didn’t know him back then,” Faith said. “I think I actually met him for the first time right after he got married to Sylvia. So that’s not a Greg that I’m familiar with.”

  “Right,” Jen added. “He really did change when he got married. Sylvia’s okay. He just really changed. More worried about her family than ours. I never really understood it.”

  “Maybe they’ll move to Angola or something,” Faith said.

  Jen laughed and leaned against the railing, noticing that it creaked when she did. That was new.

  “Fat chance. They’ve got it made here. Her parents are loaded, and they have that beach house in Del Mar. Probably why he doesn’t come here anymore.”

  “Well, I have been to their house once or twice. It’s a lot—I guess ‘newer’ is the word I’d use.” Carrie waved her arm out over the beach on one side of the house and over across the harbor on the other. “But she doesn’t have this in Del
Mar. There’s nothing like it.”

  Jen shrugged. “I guess it matters what you care about. And he doesn’t care about this at all.”

  “Can’t you just say no?” Carrie asked.

  Jen paced the deck, noticing every squeak. “I suppose technically I could, but how? Dad says he wants—no, needs—the money. I’m not sure I quite believe him, but it is quite a bit to pass up if Dirk’s estimates are even close to correct. And it would take quite a bit to fix this up. Some of this stuff is dangerous, especially if there were little kids around.”

  Carrie leaned against the railing and drew back as it moved with her. It wasn’t supposed to. “Ugh, you’re right. What a tough decision.”

  Faith squinted and pointed at one of the For Sale signs up the street. “Hey, he gave a pretty wide range for an estimated sale price, didn’t he? If you listed it at the highest range or above, nobody would pay that much for a house in this kind of shape.”

  Jen stopped pacing and stared at Faith.

  Faith held up both hands. “No offense intended. I love it. You know that. I just meant, what if things like this worked to our advantage?” She wiggled the hand rail to the steps for emphasis, and it moved more than it should. “I mean, if you set a really, really high price and sold ‘as-is’ I bet there’d be no takers.”

  Jen cocked her head and looked at some of the other houses around. None of them needed as much repair as theirs did. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  “Yeah, and you know how you’re supposed to keep the house cute and neat and tidy for when people come to look? I imagine that with no dishwasher, lots of dishes would pile up in the sink.”

  Carrie laughed. “Yes, and some of those fixes on the stairs could come loose. And Daisy here wouldn’t mind knocking over a few more lamps.”

  Jen joined in. “Right. And all of that paneling I stuck back on is about to fall off anyway.”

  Faith looked around the house and nodded. “You guys, this might just work.”

  Jen’s phone rang, and her heart leapt into her throat when she checked the caller ID. “It’s Greg,” she said, hopping up and walking down toward the beach.

  “Hi, Greg,” she said as she walked. “Thank you for calling me back. I was ready to drive down there and poke you in the eye.”

  Her brother was silent on the other end of the line for a moment. “I guess I’d deserve that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there today.”

  “Why weren’t you?” Jen tapped her foot on the boardwalk.

  “Jen, I have something to tell you. I guess I wasn’t brave enough to tell you face to face.”

  The tone in his voice made her shiver. He sounded sad and defeated. It wasn’t something she’d heard often from him, but when she had, it had been something big.

  “What is it, Greg?” she asked softly. “You can tell me.”

  He paused for a moment, and her heart tugged. “I need the money, Jen. I really do. My business is about to go under, and I don’t know what to do.”

  Jen blinked a few times. Greg had an insurance business and had done pretty well. Apparently, not anymore.

  She sat down on the bench on the boardwalk and looked out at the waves. She glanced back at the beach house, and Jen and Carrie turned away quickly, pretending they weren’t wondering what was happening.

  “What did Sylvia say?” she asked.

  “That’s the thing. I can’t tell her.”

  Jen stood and began to pace. “Why not?”

  “She’s been after me to sell the business, retire. We want to travel, while we’re still young enough. She’s been bugging me to sell it for ages, before something happened. And now it’s not worth a thing. She won’t be very happy about that.”

  “Well, what will the money from the house do for you?”

  “I could just let the business go. Pay the staff a severance and just retire.”

  For a moment, Jen felt sorry for him—until she had another thought. “Why don’t you sell Sylvia’s beach house? Why this one? It’s all I have.”

  “You know that’s not hers. It’s her family’s.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So is this one, Greg. It’s the family’s. Not yours.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Jen. I need your help. I don’t feel very good about it, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  Jen pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you talk to Dad? He’d help you, I bet.”

  Greg sighed. “I can’t. I don’t want everybody to know that I failed. That I’ve lost the business. I was hoping to just tell everybody I retired.”

  “Greg, please just tell everybody. Dad would help. Sylvia would understand.”

  “Please, Jen. I can’t. Things have been rocky enough over the years. I can’t let everybody think I failed.”

  Jen sighed and closed her eyes. He was her only brother, and as much as they’d been out of touch, he’d done lots for her over the years. He was there for her when Allen died, and she should be there for him now.

  “All right, Greg. I don’t want to. This will break everybody’s hearts, but okay.”

  Carrie and Jen both shook their heads slowly when Jen told them the news.

  “I can’t believe you said yes. He should just tell Sylvia. Ask your dad for some help. Anything but sell the house.”

  Jen nodded. “He should, but he won’t. And I can’t stand by and not help.”

  “Seriously?” Faith asked, her eyes wide and her hands on her hips.

  “Seriously,” Jen said, a slight smile crossing her lips. “If it doesn’t sell, great. With the higher price, at least we’ll be getting a bundle for it. But that doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for him. If it doesn’t sell, he’ll have no choice but to tell Sylvia and my dad the truth.”

  Neither Carrie nor Faith looked very convinced that this was the right course of action, but Jen knew it was. There was nothing else she could do.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It turned out it was harder for Jen than Faith thought it would be to leave some of the rooms in the house in a bit of disarray. With Jen being a designer and all, it went against every fiber of her being, but Faith and Carrie were finally able to convince her that it was their best hope.

  To make Jen feel a little better, she took down some of the throw pillows she’d been working on and set them out on the sofas. While the colors weren’t exactly orange and avocado, she’d found some pretty Moroccan fabric before they’d headed down for the summer, and she’d brought her sewing machine.

  The gold and orange fabric with reflective beading updated the look of the room just slightly—enough so that Jen was able to not be utterly embarrassed. Decorating was one thing—a house falling to pieces was quite another.

  They’d all worked hard and sat on the deck after they were finished, toasting each other for a job well done.

  “You think this might work?” Carrie had asked.

  “If not, it won’t be for a lack of trying,” Jen said, looking up at the hole in the awning where they’d removed the duct tape that had been holding it together.

  They watched the Fourth of July fireworks in silence, but Faith knew that the same thing was running through all of their minds. They just didn’t want to say out loud that it might be the last time they’d watch from this deck.

  Faith took a good look at the house on her way up to bed. They’d been so busy fixing things that she hadn’t really noticed how many things were still not done. Everything was different now that they were going to stop moving down their fix-it list.

  Jen and Carrie had mentioned more time to paddleboard or maybe even sail. But Faith had taken a look at her budget earlier in the day and was feeling a little anxious.

  Her eyes fell on the job application that had been sitting on her dresser since they’d gone on the ferry over to the Island. She’d been intrigued by that shop that had all the pillows and trinkets from around the world. She’d gone back in when she noticed the “Now Hiring” sign on the door while Carrie was restin
g on the bench.

  She’d chatted for a moment with the owner, Patti, and left with an application folded neatly in the pocket of her shorts. She hadn’t thought she’d have time to do anything about it, but now, between the state of her budget and the change in plans for the beach house, she decided to check into it. She’d head out early the next morning and see what happened. It was worth a try, anyway.

  The sound of the waves lulled her to sleep, and although the house was going to be for sale, she had a good feeling that maybe things might turn out okay after all. At least she hoped so.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “You got a what?” Jen asked Faith, her eyes wide open. “When—how—”

  Faith draped her jacket over the kitchen stool. “I left early this morning while you were walking Daisy. I didn’t want you to try to talk me out of it.”

  “Faith, if you wanted to get a job, I would support you one hundred percent. You know that.”

  Faith poured herself a cup of coffee and one for Jen. “I know, I know. It’s probably more accurate that I didn’t want to take the chance that I might talk myself out of it.”

  Daisy nudged her empty food bowl, and Jen realized she’d forgotten all about feeding the poor puppy. She was getting better by the day, though, and hadn’t had any accidents in a while. She filled the food and water bowls before she even took a sip of her coffee.

  “I think it’s exciting. Tell me all about it.”

  “Well, my budget will think it’s exciting, too. It could use some help, since I gave up that summer position. That’s another reason I didn’t mention it. I didn’t want you to feel bad that I stayed to help with the house. But now that the plans have changed, I figured why not?”

  “Right. I guess it’ll all work out in the end. Where are you going to work?”