Newport Harbor House

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Newport Harbor House Page 14

by Cindy Caldwell


  Greg stiffened at her words. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes, shifting from one foot to the other, like he did when he was a little boy and their dad was mad at him for something or other.

  “I’m sorry, Jen,” he finally said. “I tried to tell Sylvia. Tried to make myself call Dad. I—I tried.”

  Jen plopped down onto one of the deck chairs and crossed her arms.

  “Well, you didn’t try hard enough.”

  He shuffled his feet again. “Honestly, I thought you might need the money. You know, being a widow and all. I was trying to help.”

  She rolled her eyes, and he looked away. “Is that how you make yourself feel better? I would have told you if I did. Allen didn’t leave a ton of money, but I have the house he and I built. I’ve worked very hard. If you had asked me, I would have told you I wanted the memories here rather than the money. But you didn’t. So please don’t use that as an excuse for not being willing to ask for help. From someone besides me.”

  Greg looked out at the palm tree.

  “I guess I just assumed. I thought I was taking the best care of all of us.”

  “No. And I miss you. I miss my old big brother who always looked out for me.”

  Jen stood and opened her arms for a hug. Greg looked down again but opened his arms and wrapped her in a bear hug.

  Greg held her shoulders and searched her face. “I’m sorry, Jen. I’ve got to go.”

  He kissed her quickly on the cheek and headed down the stairs. She leaned over the railing and saw him walk quickly down the street to his car, his hands shoved in his pockets without even a backward glance.

  She dropped her head into her hands for a moment and tried to collect her thoughts. She looked up to see her brother disappearing around the corner, leaving her to break the news to the family on her own.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The pounding of the waves wasn’t nearly as loud as the pounding in Jen’s head. She’d had a good cry before falling asleep, and all night long she dreamt about the house—mostly that it was no longer there.

  When she’d agreed to put the house up for sale, she’d been certain that it wouldn’t sell for that price. At the open house, she’d almost had a moment of gratitude that the young couple had liked it so much and would be teaching their own kids to swim in the bay. As she replayed what Dirk had told her in her mind, she realized that they’d only talked about the view, the beach and the location—not the house. She’d been so hopeful that she’d just missed it.

  She wandered downstairs into the kitchen and sat on the deck with her first cup of coffee. She hadn’t even had the presence of mind to get out of her bathrobe, and Daisy was starting to pace, anxious about her walk.

  Jen hadn’t heard a peep from upstairs, imagining that Faith was sleeping in after their late night. They’d finished the bottle of wine almost in shock. No one knew how to cheer anyone else up after the news, and Carrie had headed home with her head down.

  She threw on some shorts and grabbed flip-flops, holding Daisy off as best she could. Grabbing the leash, she followed Daisy as she tugged Jen down to the waves.

  Like clockwork, just as Daisy shook and sprayed Jen with a blast of water and sand, Boris barked, and Daisy was off like a shot again toward Joe’s house.

  “This is becoming a nice ritual,” Joe said as he stood from the deck chair, his hands on his hips. “I like it.”

  Jen laughed and shook her head. “I had no idea I could run this fast. Thought those days were long gone.”

  Joe gestured to the chair beside him. “Have a seat. Catch your breath. We’re not that old yet.”

  “If you guys think you’re old, you’ve got another thing coming. Imagine having a son your age.” Mrs. Russo swung through the screen door with a mug of coffee for Jen. She accepted it with a grateful nod.

  Jen had never thought of it like that, but it made her smile, and her heart lifted when Joe winked at her.

  “Oh, Ma, you love it, and you know it.”

  “True,” the older woman said as she leaned back in her rocker on the deck. “How are you doing today, dear? That was quite a shock yesterday.”

  Jen took a sip of her coffee. Even Mrs. Russo’s coffee was better than most.

  “It was. I had a good cry last night and woke up with a pounding headache, but my run with Daisy seems to have blown it out.”

  Mrs. Russo patted her on the knee. “Did you think about trying to plead your case again with your brother? He seemed like his old self last night. Until he left suddenly. Maybe he’d be open to reconsidering?”

  Jen shook her head. “I tried. He said he and his wife had made the decision, and that he’d thought he was doing the right thing.”

  Joe leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “And you told him that he was wrong? That you wanted to keep the house?”

  “I did,” Jen said. “Then he just said he had to go. At least I got a hug out of it.”

  Joe lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose that’s better than a poke in the eye with a hot stick,” he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

  “Joey, stop.” Mrs. Russo turned to Jen. “I know it means a lot for you to be here. Especially with the baby coming and all. Maybe you should try again.”

  “Right, Jen. You’ve told me how much you want your grandkids to have the same experiences we had. Isn’t that worth fighting for? He can’t sell it without you.”

  Jen pondered that for a moment. It was true. She had given in because her brother, who she truly cared about, had said it was important to him. But what about what was important to her? And it did seem that with Michael and Amber’s news, things were different.

  “I think Joey’s right, Jen. Can’t hurt to try. This is all new information. Sometimes it seems like some things never change, but in the blink of an eye, everything does.”

  Jen finished her coffee and set the mug on the table. “You’re right, Mrs. Russo. I’ll call him. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t give it one more try.”

  She waved at them both as she reached for Daisy’s leash and set out down the boardwalk back to her beach house.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jen took three deep breaths as she and Daisy walked back to the house, then reached for her phone. She dialed Greg’s number and paused in front of the house when he answered. She slipped Daisy inside the gate and paced back and forth as she talked.

  “Hi, Greg. I just wanted to tell you one more time that I really don’t want to sell the house.”

  “Jen—”

  “Just let me finish,” she said, looking up at the ripped awning that she loved. “I have so many memories here, and so do you. You guys have someplace where you take your grandkids to make sandcastles. I won’t have that anymore. Don’t you love doing that with your kids?”

  “Jen—”

  She couldn’t stop now. She had to get it all out. “Nana and Mom would have wanted this, for it to stay in the family. I know Dad doesn’t care at the moment—that Susanna thing—but if he were in his right mind he would. Michael and Max—and your kids, too—deserve to have what we had. Remember all the good times? We even learned how to swim here.”

  “Jen, I—”

  “Let me finish. I would like you to reconsider. You are my big brother. You and Sylvia are well-off, but I’m not. Dad will help you with your business if you ask him. Heck, Sylvia’s dad would, too. If we sell this house, I’ll never have a beach house again in my entire life. And my kids won’t either.”

  She ran out of breath and arguments at the exact same time.

  “Are you finished?” Greg asked.

  Jen sat down on one of the brick fence posts. “I think so.”

  Greg laughed, and she cocked her head. She hadn’t expected that at all. In fact, she’d half expected he’d hang up on her, given how he’d been behaving lately.

  “Sylvia and I had a long, long talk. I explained to her what happened. I told her Michael and Amber’s news. It didn�
��t hurt that we were in Del Mar at the time, and the kids were playing on the beach.”

  “See? That’s what I meant.”

  “I know, I know. And she completely understood. Said we’d been married so long that she’d take the bad with the good. So if you want to stop the sale, we’re all for it.”

  Jen stood up like a shot and gasped. Mrs. Grover’s curtain twitched ,and she could see Faith poke her head out the screen door, a question in her eyes. Even Daisy turned to look at her.

  “Are—are you kidding?”

  Greg sighed. “No. Not kidding. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do it earlier. I know you’ve been through a lot of worry. I’m truly sorry for that.”

  Jen stared at her phone for a few moments before she could even respond.

  “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Greg. I’m very grateful. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “There’s nothing to thank me for. Thank you for being willing to help me. I just—well, I did my best. But I’m doing better now.”

  “Okay. Does Dad know?”

  “No, I wanted to tell you first. I was just going to call you when you called me. And if you really want to thank me, make me some of Nana’s muffins. Sylvia and I both love them, but we don’t have the recipe.”

  Jen laughed and gave a thumbs-up to Faith. Carrie rounded the corner, rushing over and asking Faith what was going on.

  “Consider it done,” she told Greg before ending the call.

  “Did I hear that correctly?” Faith asked as Jen walked slowly up the steps.

  Jen almost couldn’t believe that she’d heard it correctly.

  “Yes. He actually doesn’t want to sell the house. I’m shocked.”

  Carrie gasped and gave Jen a hug, and Faith did next.

  “That’s fantastic,” Carrie said. “Change of heart?”

  Jen nodded. “Yes. I guess he talked to Sylvia, and they both agreed that they wanted it to stay in the family, too. I guess the plans to tear it down got to all of us.”

  “I say a celebration is in order,” Faith said. “Have dinner on the deck, toast at sunset.”

  “Right. And it won’t be our last but the first of a million more,” Jen said, squeezing her friends’ hands.

  Dirk came over later in the afternoon with the paperwork to stop the sale. They all stood behind Jen as she signed and broke out in applause at the final signature.

  Carrie popped a bottle of champagne and they all toasted as they watched the young man who’d come with Dirk take the sign out of the yard.

  “I thought you might want that out right away,” Dirk said as he lifted his champagne flute at the driver when he pulled away.

  “Very much so. Thank you,” Jen said.

  “You’re very welcome. This was a tough job. Being hired to sell a house and trying hard not to let it happen was a new challenge for me.”

  Carrie laughed and said, “Well, you were up to it. You didn’t have to let Jen know that they were going to tear it down. Good thing you did.”

  Dirk closed his eyes. “It wasn’t confidential information. Normally, I might not even know that a client cared about that one way or the other. Fortunately, in this case, I had inside information.”

  “Thank goodness,” Faith said as she set out chips and salsa.

  Jen let out a big sigh of relief. “I second that.”

  “I third it,” Carrie added.

  “Can I be the fourth?” Joe led Boris through the gate and let him off his leash.

  Jen’s heart lifted as he smiled at her, opening his arms for a hug. She’d called and let him know about the change of plans and invited him over for dinner. She’d invited Mrs. Russo as well, but she was going to play bingo and said the young people should have fun without her anyway.

  “Please stay for dinner, Dirk. We have plenty.”

  Dirk nodded appreciatively and rubbed his belly. “Don’t mind if I do. Not often I get a home-cooked meal. Besides, Betty White and I have a lot to get to. The fundraiser is in less than three weeks, and we’re not ready.”

  Faith laughed. “Oh, wow, with all the commotion, I forgot all about that. I guess we’d better get on it.”

  “Perfect opportunity to plan,” Jen said. “I’ll go start on dinner. You guys start on the fundraiser.”

  Joe followed Jen into the kitchen. “Can I be of assistance? I know zip about fundraisers. And I like to cook.”

  “Good thing.” Jen glanced out the window at Faith, Carrie and Dirk jabbering already over a notepad. “None of them do.”

  Jen reached for her grandmother’s apron she’d worn all summer. Hands of Gold, it read. She ran her fingers over the frayed hem before she slipped it over her head, ready to make dinner for her friends.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have an extra apron for you. This is the only one I kept.”

  “I see why. It looks special.”

  “It is,” Jen said. “Just like yours,” she said, stifling a laugh.

  “Don’t worry. I brought my own. Ma said I might need it. And you know she’s never wrong." Joe smiled and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own apron—the one with the heart on the chest.

  Jen was overcome with laughter, and her belly hurt by the time she stopped.

  “Boy, I needed that. Been a long time.”

  “It has. And I love to see it.”

  Jen looked at him, feeling grateful. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  “Good. Because I expect that it will be the first of many, many more.”

  As Joe began to chop the onions that Jen handed him, she paused for a moment, looking out at the roses. She ran her hands down the fabric of the worn apron and nodded.

  “Don’t worry, Nana. We’re not going anywhere,” Jen whispered.

  Epilogue

  Labor Day finally arrived, and the day broke breezy and beautiful. Faith and Jen were already dressed and ready, and Carrie would be over in a moment.

  Jen fluffed the pillows on the new—well, new to her—couch that she’d found at a second-hand store. She pulled back the new curtains and breathed in the salty air.

  “Those curtains turned out great,” Faith said as she came down the stairs. “I love the new colors.”

  “Yep, I love them, too. Perfect with the pillows.”

  Jen and Faith had been sewing for weeks, and Jen would defy anyone to find a speck of orange or avocado remaining in the living room. They’d even found brown leather stools for the kitchen counter. Next on the list was taking off the paneling, but for now it looked like a different house.

  Carrie honked, and they grabbed their purses and said goodbye to Daisy. The fundraiser was at the yacht club, and they’d been over earlier to set up the silent auction. The place looked beautiful, and everything was in order. All they had to do was meet Dirk, Joe and Mrs. Russo and enjoy the evening.

  “You look fantastic,” Jen said as they hopped in Carrie’s convertible. Her dress was orange—which was expected—but it was a little softer and more subtle than what she usually wore.

  As they pulled up to the yacht club, Jen spotted Joe and Mrs. Russo heading inside.

  “Hey, look at that,” Faith said, nudging Jen with her elbow. “He cleans up great. Nice suit.”

  Jen ignored her, and they met up with their friends when they entered the ballroom.

  “You look beautiful, dear.” Mrs. Russo leaned in and kissed Jen on the cheek. “You all do.”

  Dirk came over and smiled approvingly. “You guys did a fantastic job. People are bidding like crazy, and everything is perfectly organized.”

  The girls flashed each other thumbs-up signs and found their table.

  “Nothing left to do but enjoy,” Carrie said as they sat down.

  Joe pulled out Jen’s chair for her, and Jen saw Faith wink at Carrie. He offered to get drinks for everybody, and when they’d placed their orders and he headed to the bar, Mrs. Russo sighed.

  “What is it, Mrs. Russo?” Jen asked, frowning.

&nb
sp; “Oh, I just wish Joey’s father was here. He would have been thrilled to see the figurine collection. I noticed how much it’s going for when we walked by. The bids have lots of zeroes. He’d be so pleased.”

  “Wonderful,” Carrie said. “That was the plan. The children’s wing can use it.”

  Mrs. Russo nodded slowly. “That’s wonderful.”

  Joe came back with the drinks and Jen took her glass of chardonnay from him. He gave his mother her Chianti, and Dirk followed behind with wine for Faith and Carrie. He started chatting about the fundraiser, pointing to the crowds of people around each auction item, and Jen was pleased that it would be such a success. At least it looked that way until all eyes at the table widened as Carrie’s mother approached her from behind.

  Carrie stared at her friends as they looked down at their napkins and anywhere but at Mrs. Westland.

  “What?” she finally asked, an instant before her mother tapped her on the shoulder.

  Carrie stood and turned toward her mother, her smile guarded when Mrs. Westland kissed her on both cheeks. Jen let out her breath, relieved that Mrs. Westland was pleased. But it only lasted a moment.

  “Carrie, darling, and Dirk, dear,” Mrs. Westland began.

  Although Jen hadn’t seen Mrs. Westland in a few years, her regal bearing and turned up nose were very familiar. So was her tone of voice.

  Carrie smiled at Dirk and he gestured widely at the room. “Hello, Mrs. Westland. I hope you’re happy with how everything came together. I think it turned out great. Carrie really outdid herself. The girls’ silent auction is doing great. Should be a record night for the children’s wing.”

  Mrs. Westland sniffed and glanced around the room. “Yes, it’s lovely, my dear,” she said with a quick kiss on each of his cheeks. She looked directly at him and said, “You did a marvelous job.”

  Dirk blinked a few times and took a step closer to Carrie. “Thank you. It was a team effort.”

  Mrs. Westland smiled and looked around the room again. “It’s a tad bit dull, though, don’t you think?”

 

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