Faith rubbed her hands together. “That little shop on the Island. The one with the cool pillows that smell like incense. I met with the owner this morning, and she thinks it’ll be a good fit. Just a few hours a week, but every little bit counts.”
“It sure does,” Jen said. “When do you start?”
“Not until next week. I thought maybe we could do some paddleboarding, maybe swim a little bit?”
“That sounds great,” Jen said, her voice trailing off as a truck pulled up in front of the house and parked.
She and Faith grabbed their coffee mugs, opened the door for Daisy, and followed her out onto the porch.
“Mrs. Westland?” a young man asked as he glanced at a clipboard in his hand.
“Yes, that’s me.” Jen tried to stay calm as the young man nodded and reached into the back of his truck. He pulled out a big metal sign with Dirk Crabtree’s picture and big red letters that read For Sale on it and looked around for a place to put it in the small courtyard. He moved toward Nana’s rose bushes, and Jen jumped to her feet.
“Not there. Anywhere but there.” Jen rushed down the deck stairs, Daisy close behind. She pointed to a corner by the garage. “You can put it there.”
The young man pushed his baseball cap up on his forehead. “Mr. Crabtree always tells me to pick the place where people will see it best. I don’t think that’s—”
“I’ll take that up with Mr. Crabtree. I’m the homeowner. Just put it there, like I said.”
“Good call,” Faith whispered loudly as he stuck the sign in the small patch of dirt by the garage.
The sign wasn’t exactly invisible, but Jen figured not as many people would notice it there. As she turned back to the house, Mrs. Grover’s curtain fell back into place.
It wouldn’t be long before everybody on the block knew what was happening, and Jen’s stomach dropped.
“Oh, Faith, this is just impossible. I can’t believe it’s even happening.” Jen sat back down, and Daisy laid down on her feet as if in sympathy.
“I know, Jen. I can’t believe it either. But we can still hope that nobody cares. I don’t imagine other people think it’s as awesome as we do, and you can kind of get a feel for the place just looking at the awning.”
Jen smiled as she looked up at the blue-and-white striped awning with the big rip in it. It billowed in the breeze, and with the chipped paint on the window sills out in front and the wavering bannister, she knew it was true. She couldn’t imagine anybody wanting to pay that much money for something that needed so much work. At least it was the only ace she had up her sleeve, and they were about to find how well it would work. Or if it would work at all.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Wow, check out those guns.”
“What?” Carrie shouted back from her paddleboard across the bit of water that was between them.
“Your arms. You’re getting muscles. That’s what they call it at the gym. Big guns. At least that’s what the boys tell me,” Jen said.
Jen and Carrie had been paddleboarding sometimes in the late afternoons for a couple of weeks, and Jen did have to admit that she was getting in better shape, too.
When they’d first started, she could barely stand up. Not that the paddle board wasn’t stable—she was surprised at how stable they actually were. And once she’d gotten the courage to stand up right away, it had been pretty easy. So after Carrie got off work, she’d come down to the house and they paddled around in the bay. Faith joined them most days, but today she was at work.
They’d made a pact that by the end of the summer, they’d make it all the way around. That was a pretty big target and it would take hours, but they were determined.
Jen had put on loads of sunscreen and had on a long-sleeved rash guard over her bathing suit. She couldn’t help but laugh as she looked back at her friend—Carrie was Carrie. And Carrie had on a rash guard, flowered diving pants and a big, floppy neon-yellow hat. None of it matched, but Jen didn’t mind. She was easy to spot when they got separated.
“How’re the fundraiser plans going? I feel like I haven’t been helping much. I need to ask Joe when would be a good time to go through Mr. Russo’s things. I honestly hope we’re going to find some treasures that Mrs. Russo is willing to part with. That would be great, wouldn’t it?”
Carrie nodded and pointed out a little back canal that she wanted to go down. Some of the biggest houses in Newport were on these smaller canals, and they always liked to see what the neighbors were up to. Jen was a hundred percent positive that there wouldn’t be any with ripped awnings and chipped paint. Not in this part of town.
“I haven’t talked to Dirk in a while either. That would be great. I figured he’d call me if he needed help. And he hasn’t. I already gave him the donations that we got right in the beginning.”
“Oh, good. I haven’t talked to him either. Since that first week, nobody’s come to see the house, which is fine by me. I don’t know. Maybe I should check in with him.”
“Sounds like we both should,” Carrie said as they glided past some of the biggest houses in Newport.
Jen had always been in awe of these houses since she was a little kid. She even knew which one had been John Wayne’s. And nothing was different now. Some of them looked like castles that twenty people could live in. She’d been in some over the years, and the insides were as beautiful as the outsides. And at Christmastime, they were even more spectacular, all lit up with Christmas scenes ready for the boat parade.
Now, though, in the middle of summer, the palm trees swayed lightly in the breeze, and they looked elegant and peaceful.
“I’m ready to sit on the deck for a bit. How about you?”
“No argument from me. My muscles hurt. I really am too old for this.”
Carrie pulled her paddle board up on the beach, inching it up the sand. “Your arms tell a different story, my friend,” she said with a laugh.
“Well, I guess I should do whatever I can to keep the years at bay. But I am definitely tired and ready for a glass of wine.”
They stowed the paddle boards in the garage and went around to the deck.
“Well, speak of the devil,” Carrie whispered to Jen.
“Hello,” Dirk Crabtree said from the deck. “Exactly the two ladies I was looking for. I hope you don’t mind that I waited for a bit to see if you might come back, Jen. I needed to talk to Miss White, also, so this is just a bonus.”
Carrie shot him a dirty look, but he seemed nice enough, and it was hard to hate him, even though he was the enemy. Maybe not the enemy for the fundraiser but the enemy trying to sell Jen’s beach house. It was a little confusing, to be honest, to know whether to like him or hate him.
“Well, I’ve been completely avoiding you,” Jen said as she smiled and sat behind him. “I figure if I avoid you, I don’t have to talk about selling the house, and I can just pretend it isn’t happening.”
Dirk sat down beside her and shook his head. “No can do, ma’am. You guys hired me to do a job, and I aim to do it. Your brother calls me almost every day to check whether or not there’s been any action.”
“I bet he does,” Jen said under her breath.
Dirk shuffled some papers and didn’t notice. He just kept talking. “Potential buyers don’t seem to be noticing the house. I don’t think it’s the price, although we did go on the high end. But people should still be looking.”
He looked past Jen, over her shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “Or it could be the sign placement. You can barely see it.”
Jen lifted her chin in defiance. “I think it’s perfect. It wasn’t going to go in my nana’s roses. No way.”
“Okay, fine. I have another idea, anyway. I want to have an open house. I’ll advertise in the Daily Pilot and put it online so all the realtors see. It’s a good way to get traffic through the house, especially during the summer.”
Carrie took a quick look at Jen, and knew she was about to say something she might regret later.
“That’ll be great, Dirk. What time?”
“Noon to three works best around here. Next Sunday. You guys will need to vacate, but I will be here the whole time.”
“Good,” Carrie said, glancing again at Jen whose face was redder than she’d ever seen it.
“And Carrie, maybe you and I can get together afterward and talk fundraiser. I have some big donations, and we can talk process. You know, who’s going to emcee, how it’s going to run, all that. It’s only six weeks away. Clock’s ticking.” Dirk headed down the stairs and over to his SUV. “Want to meet at the Lighthouse Café after the open house? Around four?”
“Sure,” Carrie said and gave him a half-hearted wave as he headed down the street.
“Did I hear him say ‘open house’?” Faith opened the gate to the courtyard and gave Daisy a nice, long pat as she looked from Jen to Carrie.
The lump in her throat softened, and Jen found her voice.
“Yes. This Sunday?”
“Oh, wow,” Faith said, sitting down slowly with Daisy at her knee. “That’s soon.”
“It sure is.” Jen leaned forward, her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands.
Carrie draped her arm around her friend and glanced at Faith. “Jen, nobody’s coming to look at it. An open house won’t be any different, you think?”
“I don’t know. Usually the realtors make cookies and stuff like that. People come just to look. It feels like we’re being invaded.”
Faith leaned forward, her hand on Jen’s arm. “People may come and look, but that doesn’t mean they’re serious buyers. Or people with enough money to buy it. It might be all right.”
Jen leaned back in her seat and squeezed her friends’ hands. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better. I guess it just is what it is.”
“Yeah. Darn Greg,” Carrie said.
“Right. Darn Greg,” Faith echoed, and Jen cracked a bit of a smile.
“Yep, all Greg’s fault. Well, he’ll be sorry.”
“He will?” Faith asked. “I don’t know. With all that money and Sylvia happy, won’t he be happy too?”
“I know I said yes to this, but I hope not. I intend to make his life miserable from here on out,” Jen said, and they all three laughed.
“Good. He deserves it.”
They looked out at the waves as Daisy’s tail beat a steady rhythm against the worn wood of the deck.
“I guess I should take her for a walk.”
“We’ll go with you,” Carrie said, standing.
“I think I’d like to go alone, if you don’t mind. I need to get used to this idea of all those strangers in Nana’s house. I’ll be right back.”
“Right in time for happy hour,” Faith said with a very bright smile, Jen noticed. She knew her friends felt awful about all of this, too, but she needed a little time to process.
What sounded like a cat fight bristled in the palm tree at the end of the walkway.
“Looks like the baby herons are at it again,” Carrie said, reaching for the binoculars. “They’re getting bigger already. Time’s flying. We’ll keep an eye on them while you’re gone. I’d say we’d start dinner, but that wouldn’t help you much.”
Jen laughed, feeling a little lighter already. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen, so she might as well make the best of it. “Perfect. Just wait for me. I’ll be right back.” Jen clipped the leash to Daisy’s collar and opened the gate.
Daisy didn’t make her usual beeline for the water and instead headed north. Jen knew why when she heard Boris barking from up the boardwalk.
She arrived at Joe’s house and the dogs tumbled together in the courtyard, acting like they hadn’t seen each other in years.
“It’s fun to watch them play, isn’t it?” Joe said as he stepped out from the house, the wooden screen door flapping closed behind him.
“Definitely. Makes me happy.”
Joe cocked his head and looked more closely at her. “You look like you could use some cheering up, actually. What’s wrong?”
Jen shared the recent developments about the open house, and he shook his head when she’d finished.
“Oh, man, that’s too bad. But like the girls said, it doesn’t really mean much. They’re usually just random people wanting to take a look inside. That’s all.”
Jen nodded half-heartedly. “I know. I just don’t want to watch.”
“Don’t blame you. Hey, why don’t you come by while it’s going on, and we can go through my dad’s stuff. Good a time as any. I bet Carrie’s ready for some more donations. The fundraiser’s not that far off.”
Jen looked up to the second floor of Joe’s house, at the window into his dad’s room, and wondered what they might find.
“Sure, that’d be great. I needed to vacate anyway, and it’ll get that task knocked off my list.”
“Perfect,” Joe said. “Oh, and before you come over, make sure you steam some broccoli or cabbage or something so the whole house smells. Even if the realtor brings cookies, it won’t help. I hate broccoli. That’d be it for me.”
Jen laughed with her full belly this time. “That’s a great idea. I’ll do it. At least it’s something, and I won’t feel so helpless.”
“There you go. It’s a plan. See you on Sunday, but don’t bring any broccoli over here, please.”
Jen grabbed Daisy’s leash and headed back to the house, a smile still on her face. It may not be much, but it was something she could do.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
No amount of deep breaths Jen could take calmed her nerves. She’d re-arranged the living room furniture at least three times in the past few days and would have again if Faith hadn’t finally balked and said no.
“Nothing’s going to make a difference. If they like it, they like it,” Faith said when she went on strike. “If you’re nervous, let’s do something else instead. I’ve been sewing pillows when I’m not at work to keep my mind off it.”
Jen had finally taken her friend’s advice, and they’d helped time pass by making pillows. For what, they didn’t know, but Faith had been inspired by the pretty pillows at her work. They’d gone to an eclectic fabric store and gotten some pretty prints and spent some evenings at the sewing machine, chatting and sewing like they’d been doing for years.
“At least Maggy didn’t have to go. Remember when we’d bribe her with McDonald’s French fries to go with us?”
“Good grief, yes. She still talks about it. Describes it as sheer torture.”
“Well, we did spend quite a bit of time in fabric stores, that’s for sure.”
Now, Jen couldn’t decide which of the pillows they’d made to leave on the sofa. They were almost too pretty, and she really didn’t want to make the room look too nice.
She peeked out the window as Dirk parked in front and groaned.
“Here we go,” she said to Faith.
“It smells like broccoli in here,” Dirk said as soon as he came through the door, narrowing his eyes at Jen.
Faith coughed a little too loudly, and Jen shrugged. “We had some for dinner last night.”
“Uh-huh,” he said as he laid out his sign-in clipboard and brochures. “Smells very recent. You sure it wasn’t for breakfast? If I’d known you were going to do that I’d have brought cookie dough to put in the oven.”
“That would be an interesting combination,” Jen said as she reached for Daisy’s leash. “You have my number if you need me, right?”
“I do. I hope everything goes well, and I’ll let you know. I’m meeting Carrie afterward. Why don’t you join us? We’ll be talking fundraiser, but I can let you know how the open house went, too.”
As much as Jen didn’t think she wanted to know how it went, she knew by then she’d be curious. At least curious enough to hope it went badly and then she could rest easier.
“Okay, I will.”
“Deal. Lighthouse Café at four.”
Faith’s eyes brightened. She was always game
for a restaurant night out. “Oh, I love the Lighthouse. Haven’t been yet this summer. How did we forget that?”
“We’ve been busy,” Jen said. “Why don’t you come, too? Meet us there after work.”
“Perfect. See you then,” Faith said with a wave as she headed toward the ferry.
Jen grabbed the bag of muffins she’d made for Mrs. Grover before she left. She nodded goodbye to Dirk and purposefully did not wish him good luck. She and Daisy headed up the boardwalk to Joe’s house, and she vowed just not to think about it for about it anymore.
“Hi,” Joe said as she climbed the steps to the porch. “You all right?”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m fine. I did the broccoli thing.”
Joe laughed and slapped his thigh. “I was just kidding. Should have known you’d probably do it. Gotta watch what I say. I’d forgotten about your tendency for mischief.”
“Who? Me?” Jen batted her eyelashes at him with a feigned look of shock. They’d all been mischievous when they were younger. Joe as much as anybody.
“I don’t think it’s going to work, though. Dirk was opening all the windows when I left.”
“Broccoli lingers for weeks.”
“Weeks?”
“Well, maybe not weeks but too long.”
“Pssst,” Carrie whispered. “Do you have the goods?”
“Why are you whispering?” Jen asked as she handed the muffins to Carrie.
“I don’t know. I just thought spies should whisper.” Carrie took the bag and saluted. “I’ll report back this afternoon, Chief,” she said before she headed toward Mrs. Grover’s house.
“What was that all about?” Joe asked as he led her up the stairs and down the hallway to his dad’s room.
Jen really didn’t want Joe to know what lengths they were going to in addition to the broccoli. Not yet, anyway. “Oh, nothing. I’ll fill you in later. Where’s your mom?”
“At church. They have a community lunch for anyone who wants to stay afterward, and she’s cooking. She’ll be back later.”
Joe opened the door to the room and peeked his head in, looking back at her with his eyebrows raised.
Newport Harbor House Page 11
