Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  “Do you not get along with your dad?”

  “Not much,” she admitted. “We’ve always had problems, but things came to a head when I refused to work for him after high school.”

  “Ahh. He wanted a partner for his business.”

  “Partner?” She let out a hearty laugh. “He wanted me to learn masonry, since that’s all he thought I was capable of. But I wasn’t about to spend twenty or thirty years installing flagstone patios on the off chance he’d hand the business over to me when he was ready to step aside. He’s the kind of guy who would have sold the damn thing right out from under me—after working me like an indentured servant.”

  She didn’t look particularly upset when she delivered this awful summation of her father’s character, so Avery just nodded, showing she understood they had issues.

  “Now he’s ready to throw in the towel, since it looks like the county is holding firm. His plan is to fix it up and flip it, but he’s recently started building a big house from scratch, so he’s swamped.”

  “How does this affect me?”

  “Well, long term, it’s not much of a solution. But I could ask him if he’d consider renting the house until he has time to do the renovation.”

  “Ooo. So this would be temporary.”

  “Definitely. Knowing him, he won’t be able to give you a firm date, but I’d bet it would be for at least six months. Of course, if he gets distracted by another big job it could go on for quite a while. He doesn’t like to start on something if he doesn’t believe he’ll be able to finish it.”

  “What kind of shape is the place in?”

  “It’s old. Very old. But given its age, it’s in good shape. If he goes all out, I’m sure he’d be able to sell it for a good buck. But it needs a lot. New bathroom, new kitchen, upgraded plumbing and electrical. The usual.”

  “Sounds…like it’s a little dated?”

  She smiled. “It was dated ages ago. A lot of people don’t like living in a place with a kitchen from the thirties. But because of that, he’d have to be reasonable with the rent. If you sweet-talked him, I bet he’d take a thousand.”

  “Mmm. The only places I’ve seen advertised around here that I’d be able to stomach cost seventeen hundred. I can afford that. Barely. But I’d rather not have to. A thousand would be much more up my alley.”

  “Want me to propose it?”

  “Maybe,” she said, already seeing herself in a dated, but cozy home. “How far outside of Kinderhook is it?”

  “It’s about twenty minutes to your parents’ house. Is that too far?”

  “Right on the edge,” she said, thinking. “I was planning on dropping Lisbet off at my mom’s every weekday morning. But I guess eighty minutes of driving isn’t too bad for a whole day. Any chance I could take a look before you propose it?”

  “Sure. I could take you over there now, but you wouldn’t be able to see much in the dark. How about Saturday?”

  “It’s a date.” She stuck her hand out and they shook. Casey was clearly a generous, considerate, baby-crazy woman who could also knock the cover off a softball. She was a little grabby with other people’s phones, but she wasn’t above apologizing when she overstepped. So far, she had all of the qualities that could make her a good friend.

  ***

  Casey didn’t usually eat right before bed, but she’d had visions of ice cream dancing in her head ever since she’d seen Avery gulping down that malt. Besides, some of her earliest and best softball memories were of their coaches taking the whole team to Joe’s a couple of times a season, and she wanted to recapture the pleasure she got from those treats.

  She had to go out of her way to reach the ice cream stand, and there was a line that had to have been fifty feet long, but she didn’t mind. Half of the kids dancing around anxiously waiting to order were in their softball and baseball uniforms, so she fit right in. Of course, she was the only adult dressed that way, but she didn’t care. People who made sure they never stood out in a crowd missed an awful lot of the fun in life.

  While waiting, she went over the little argument she and Avery’d had earlier. If Casey had wanted to, she was confident she could have pinned her down and nibbled away at her until Avery revealed why she’d really taken the picture. She definitely knew why she’d done it, and she was embarrassed. That was for sure. But it wasn’t obvious what the reason was. Of course, Ben might have been right. She might have taken it to show to her friends. But Ben had a real hot button about making fun of fat people. Having grown up as a very chubby kid, who’d turned into a pretty hefty man, he was always on the lookout for slights. But Casey didn’t get the feeling that Avery spent her time showing her friends photos of large women. For one thing, she didn’t have the time. But it was more than that. Avery didn’t seem unkind. At all. And only a true asshole would go out of her way to make fun of someone like that.

  When Casey got up to the window, she smiled at the high school kid who took her order. She was a sharp-eyed blonde, a little like Avery had looked at that age, and she seemed equally bright and pleasant.

  As the young woman went to make her malt, Casey spent another minute thinking. Obviously, it was totally possible that Avery had been a little shit who’d felt superior to Casey way back when. She might have even been the ring-leader who’d egged her friends into being bullies. If that was true, it would make sense that she’d rushed home to send the photo of Valeria all around the internet, finding it hilarious that a woman of her size claimed her space in the world. But now that they’d spent some time together, Casey truly didn’t think any of those things were true. She certainly wasn’t going to open herself up to being too vulnerable, but until she learned different, she was going to treat Avery like any of her former classmates—with only a mild degree of skepticism. The most valuable lesson she’d learned at Hudson High was to trust everyone, but watch your back.

  Chapter Seven

  On Saturday morning, Avery woke at dawn, once again feeling remarkably refreshed. Three nights of uninterrupted rest hadn’t fully healed her sleep-starved body, but it had improved it immeasurably. Mornings seemed like things she wanted to jump into when she’d had enough sleep, and she found herself singing softly as she went into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker. Of all of the things she’d guessed motherhood would bring, becoming a morning person hadn’t even been on her list. But she was clearly headed in that direction. It was barely six, and she was ready to hit the road, anxious about seeing her potential new home. But she and Casey had made plans to meet at nine, so she had hours to kill. Her younger self would have never believed this set of circumstances, but today’s Avery went to the front door to pull in the newspaper, then happily sat at the kitchen table while she caught up on local news, waiting for the coffee to brew.

  ***

  Casey jumped out of her truck at nine on the dot, and before she got to the door Avery was opening it.

  “Ready?” She was dressed for the weather, with khaki shorts and a T-shirt from some band Casey had never heard of. It didn’t surprise her that they had dissimilar musical tastes, but she thought they’d at least know the same groups. The baby-weight Avery wanted to lose was also on display, since the shirt was kind of slim-fit. The extra pounds all lurked around her middle, a hiding spot the roomy, square cut shirts Casey had seen her in before had masked.

  “Ready and willing. Want to bring your swimsuit? It’s supposed to be another scorcher, and I thought you two might enjoy a pool party.”

  “Oh, Casey,” she said, once again looking like she wanted to say “yes,” but thinking that she should refuse out of politeness. “I hate to take up so much of your day. I’m imposing enough.”

  She gazed at Avery in the morning light, seeing a pretty, clear-eyed woman who was not only fun to talk to, she carried an even cuter baby in her arms. “I’ve told you that I’m a pretty nice person,” she said, letting a little smile show. “But I’m not a doormat. If I didn’t want you to come over, I wouldn’t offe
r.”

  “All right then,” she said, grinning. “I’d love to give my mom a real day off. My being out of the house for the whole day will let her get back to her usual routine.”

  “You get your stuff, and I’ll get the car seat out of your mom’s car. Is it unlocked?”

  “Always,” Avery said as she started for the door. “I’ll move it. Just give me a minute to get our stuff.”

  Casey walked over to the car, certain she didn’t need help in moving a simple car seat. “Don’t bother bringing swim clothes for Lisbet. I got her something.”

  “What?” Avery asked, turning to stare.

  “Big sale at the kid’s clothing shop on Warren. End-of-season stuff was super cheap.”

  “Casey…” Her voice reminded Casey of the tone her grandma used to use with her when she’d stayed outside until long after dinner. Mildly exasperated, but not truly annoyed.

  “Go on,” Casey said, waving her away. “I’ve got a car seat to wrestle with.”

  ***

  Casey drove down the tranquil, curvy road like she was expecting a speeding semi to blow around every bend. It was truly sweet to have her be so careful with Lisbet in the car, but Avery was afraid they’d never get to the house.

  After twenty-five minutes, Casey slowed down even more, turning off the main road to travel down a short, dead-end street. “That’s Claverack Creek down there,” she said. “Because of it, none of the streets around here go through, which means there’s very little noise.” She smiled. “I’ve been told the creek is a great place to catch frogs.”

  Avery held her hand up in front of the baby, testing to see how quickly she could grab a finger. She gave it her all, but Avery was able to evade her grasping hand without much difficulty. “I don’t think Lisbet’s going to be much of a frog-hunter in the next few months, but she might grow faster than I’ve been led to believe.”

  The last driveway on the right was long and had a nice curve to it. Nestled within the tall trees was a two story house with a stone facade that looked old. Maybe really old. The home was situated perfectly on a slight rise, with a well-tended lawn in the front.

  “Septic field’s looking good,” Casey said, shattering Avery’s sylvan image.

  “Do you mean the lawn?”

  “Uh-huh. The trees used to be much closer to the house. My dad had to pay to have about twenty of them taken down, then have a new septic system dug.” She laughed a little. “My grandma never offered to pay for anything, even though she had a nice nest egg.”

  “It’s a lovely setting,” Avery said, reserving judgment on the rest of the place until they got closer. “The lawn looks like it’s been there forever.”

  “Only about five years. It’s pretty, isn’t it? I love how the sun hits the porch on a summer morning. It’s a great place to have breakfast.”

  “Breakfast outside in the sun. That’s a dream I didn’t realize I had, but I could get behind it quickly.”

  “A cold beer on a warm summer night isn’t bad either.” She seemed very reflective when she added, “I can’t begin to guess how much beer the Gerritsens have consumed right there. You’d love the porch in the summer. Guaranteed.”

  “Gerritsens?”

  “My mom’s family. But I can see a Nichols or two enjoying a beer there as well.”

  “You’ve already moved me in,” Avery teased, giving Casey’s sturdy leg a swat.

  “No, not really. But I’m almost certain you’d like it here. It’s about as far from the craziness of Brooklyn as you can get.”

  Avery gave her a look. “Have you actually been to Brooklyn?”

  “I’ve seen it on TV,” she said, giving Avery a charming smile. “Lisbet could cry all night and no one would hear a peep.”

  “Or hear my screams when the Mad Killer breaks in.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Casey said, not commenting further. Clearly, she wasn’t up on the exploits of the crazed murderer whom Avery believed lurked outside of every single-family home that wasn’t closely surrounded by neighbors.

  They got out, and Avery walked over to stand on the grass in front of the building after Casey offered to pull Lisbet’s car seat out of the truck. Taking a minute to get a feel for the place, Avery started at the top, loving the peaked roof with two large dormers. The first floor had four windows, which flanked what looked like a Dutch door, with wrought-iron strapping to secure it in place. Whoever had built the house was really going for an old-style look. The stone was various shades of gray, and each window had beautiful cornflower blue shutters that looked like they’d actually close.

  “It’s awfully cute,” Avery said when Casey approached. She looked down to see Lisbet blinking her eyes open. “Did your grandmother have it built?”

  She smiled, looking a little smug. “An ancestor did, but not my grandmother.” She tilted her head to let her gaze reach the top of the building, then slide down to the porch. “I’ve been tempted to do the research to find out who built it and when, but since my parents have both been dead-set on tearing it down, I’ve tried to put it out of my mind.” She was quiet for a second before adding, “I didn’t want to get more attached to it, and if I found out it was built in 1650 or something I might have chained myself to it when the bulldozers showed up.”

  “Sixteen fifty!” Avery stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”

  She shook her head a little as a smile settled onto her face. “I think it’s probably closer to 1800, long after the Dutch were in charge around here. If it was really old, it would have a big, open fireplace, and the second floor would have been for grain storage.”

  “Are you really serious? Is this stone real?”

  “Real?” she asked, cocking her head.

  “I thought it was that stuff you can buy that’s like half an inch thick. It comes in sheets…”

  “Oh, god, no,” Casey said. She walked over just past the porch and slapped at the stone. “The walls are probably a foot and a half thick. But you can’t see the stone from inside.” Her expression turned grim. “Some of my ancestors didn’t appreciate that they were living in a historic home. I assume the original beams are still there, but they and the stone have been covered by plaster walls and ceilings. I’m certain there was a fireplace, too, but it was either disassembled or covered long ago.” She sighed as she looked up again, with her gaze lingering for a moment. “It’s just an old house now. To uncover all of the original elements would cost a mint, if it was even possible.”

  “But the town wants to preserve it?”

  “They do, but the house isn’t landmarked or anything, so they’re just slowing everything down. I’m thrilled about that, by the way. But it puts my dad in a bad spot. He can’t get permission to knock down enough trees to put more houses on the property, so the only way he can make any money is to do a historic renovation, which isn’t his thing.” She smiled warmly. “But while he’s figuring out what to do, you could live here for a pretty good deal.”

  “I’m intrigued,” Avery said. “Want to see the house we might live in, Sweet Pea?”

  “She’s into it,” Casey said. “We communicate without words.”

  “I just bet you do.” Avery climbed the two steps to the porch and waited while Casey pulled a set of keys from her pocket.

  “Have you ever seen a real Dutch door?”

  “I have. My grade school class went to look at some Dutch houses in Kingston when we were studying New York history. I wanted my dad to switch out our door,” she said, chuckling, “but he convinced me it would look stupid on our 1950s ranch.”

  Casey put an old-style skeleton key into the lock of the striking blue door and gave it a gentle push, with the heavy-looking thing swinging open easily. “Now remember that it needs updating. It looks like the house of a ninety-year-old woman who hated change.”

  Avery turned to gaze at her. “Your grandmother was ninety?”

  “Sure was. My mom was a surprise. My poor grandma had two kids in high school, then she
had my uncle. Just when she thought she could take a breath, she got pregnant with my mom.”

  “Wow. Ninety,” Avery said. “I’m going to prepare myself for ancient carpet, peeling linoleum, pink appliances, and a washboard in the sink…with a pump for water.”

  “Not that bad,” Casey promised. “In some ways,” she added mysteriously.

  They entered, and Avery tried to ignore the musty smell. There was no way to prevent that when a house had been empty for a while, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected. The place certainly wasn’t fresh and modern, but nothing seemed broken or in need of immediate repair.

  Casey went to a window and unlocked it to raise it with no problem, letting in a warm breeze. Avery stood by her, delighted to see a very deep wooden sill. “I see what you mean about how thick the walls are. This is super cool!”

  “I certainly think so. When I was young, I could sit on this sill and watch the squirrels. I guess I still could,” she added, plunking herself down, “but I can’t sit with my feet up against the other side like I could then.” She looked up at Avery. “No screens, which isn’t usually a problem. My grandma closed the shutters at night, which kept most of the insects out.”

  “Huh.” Avery looked around carefully, while trying to figure out how to ask a question that might be impolite. “Um, I understand why it would be hard to fit screens on the windows, or put in air conditioning, but the house is kind of modest for a woman whose son-in-law runs a big general contracting business, isn’t it? I mean, the historic elements are gone, so your dad could have made some upgrades without hurting anything, right?”

  “He sure could have,” Casey said, nodding. “But my grandmother had a boatload of quirks, and one of them was to keep things just like they were until she had no choice. The house had been good enough for her parents, and their parents, and their parents, etcetera, so it was good enough for her.”

  “In her defense, it’s not bad at all. The carpet doesn’t even look worn.”