by Kaira Rouda
“I agree. And Kathryn?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“Bye, love you, too.”
MONDAY MORNING: NO HOUSE GUESTS, NO COUCH CONSULTATIONS. Just me, my laptop, and my to-do list for Thursday’s party. I’d completed section two of my online staging designation class (new T2C #7), and I’d learned some valuable things about record keeping and how to explain my business. I also was advised to consider adding Feng Shui into my practice. I guess I’d consider it, when appropriate. Feng Shui, essentially, believed in clearing clutter to create harmonious energy throughout your home. Chi—positive energy—also flowed through homes with good light and clean, quality air. I realized I needed to add more houseplants, specifically some palms, rubber plants, and a Boston fern. I’d open all my windows more often, including before the party.
When it came to the Feng Shui Bagua of homes—defining which areas are connected to specific areas of people’s lives—I’d learned that if I wanted to bring more money energy into our home, I’d need to add wood and water to my master bathroom. Okay, I could do that. I decided I’d add green to the east area of our house; it was good for balancing family life and improving health. I should do that over at Charlotte’s new house, too. I’d learned that David was a wood element and he was born in the year of the dog; Sean was fire and he was born in the year of the rat. Patrick was a metal/ox and I was a water/hare. Not sure what all of that meant, but I’d get back to this. I was having so much fun learning about this ancient practice.
I paused the module. I needed to focus on the basics. I had just realized I was expecting, at latest count, more than two hundred invitees plus their guests, which added up to four hundred people, and I hadn’t hired a caterer yet. So soon after Jim’s death, I wouldn’t think of imposing on Charlotte, so I wouldn’t be able to show off my only job. I needed a plan B.
The doorbell rang.
Oreo wasn’t barking at all, so at least I liked whoever was on the other side. Sure enough, it was Beth and Melanie.
Melanie still had the white bandages on her wrists, but otherwise, her coloring had returned and she seemed, well, back to her normal, if skinny, self.
I gave her a big hug as they came in the door.
“Aunt Kelly, Beth and I have been talking on the way over,” Melanie said. “I have messed things up around here and you have a big party on Thursday. I want to help. Put me to work. It’s the least I can do. And the added benefit? I get to stay out of the way of the drama across the way. Deal?”
Why not? “Deal,” I said.
“Cool. I’ll just be in my room. Let me know when you need me!” she said, and bolted up the stairs, with Oreo tagging behind her.
“Traitor,” I said under my breath to my formerly trusty steed. Maybe with all my newfound success, I’d get a pony. That would show him.
The phone had been ringing off the hook, and I had let it go to voice mail. I mean, really, who calls on Sundays? People desperate to sell their homes, that’s who. But I had a party to plan. They were jumping the gun, or perhaps I had, with my TV appearance.
“Mel seems stable,” Beth began as we headed toward the kitchen, “but with Jim’s death, it’s probably best to allow Charlotte and the girls to get settled in over there, without the pressure to acclimate Mel to a whole new family dynamic.”
I poured us both a cup of tar and we sat down at my desk/kitchen table.
Beth glanced around at all the Post-it notes on the wall, but didn’t mention them.
“If you could keep Melanie busy over here for the rest of the week, through the funeral, that would be the best for her and for Charlotte. I’ve explained this to Mel and to Bruce. He finally listened to me,” she said, smiling and taking a sip of coffee.
“Of course I’ll keep her. I love her, and I need the help!” I also thought it would give Kathryn time to come home and maybe keep her daughter with her.
“Yes, I’m buying her mom some time, too,” Beth said, reading my mind.
“She should be home in a couple of days, so that’s great! Oh, and I’ve got a surprise for you. I told my friend Sherry, the TV anchor who interviewed me about my business, about you, and she’d love to do a story about you and the practice you want to start up. You have to do it. Rent office space. Take the leap. You are just wasting your talent working at that job at the hospital, not specializing. You have a gift, Beth. You need to share it. You can save people, for heaven’s sake. All I do is decorate and declutter.”
Oops. Broke life-change rule about not being self-deprecating (T2C #10), but I needed to make my point.
“Truth is, these past few weeks haven’t felt like work. I know I can help other girls like Mel. I’m confident now,” she said.
“You know, I hope it makes up a little bit for my not being there when you needed me in high school.”
“Please, let it go. We were kids. I would’ve abandoned myself. In fact, I did,” she said, smiling at me and then looking at the time on her cell. “I’ve gotta go. Ryan’s been with Sarah all weekend, and I miss her something fierce. Call me if you need me, and good luck with all of this.”
Yes, that’s what I’d need. Good luck and an even better caterer.
I spent two hours ignoring phone calls and researching caterers. I made my list but couldn’t call any of them until Monday. Two of them were attached to restaurants, which were open, but the catering manager wasn’t in.
During a break in my research I looked out the kitchen window just as a moving van pulled down the street and into the driveway of Charlotte’s new house. At least she’d have her things around her, but wasn’t that the point of staying out of the house she had shared with Jim? Or maybe the van held Bruce’s stuff from Kathryn and Melanie’s house?
I decided to stop watching and start doing. I should make a casserole, or something. Maybe I’d call my mom and ask her what to bring to a widow and her two children, even though she was happily with her soul mate and moving into a million-dollar home with all new, perfectly staged furnishings and a few trinkets from her old life.
“Well, I’m just not sure,” Mom said.
“Well, Charlotte—”
“Charlotte! Oh my goodness, not that sweet Jim? He was a darling man. He died?”
“Yes, Mom. I told you Charlotte is moving in with my friend Kathryn’s husband, Bruce, remember?”
“Yes, I remember that, and you don’t have to be so testy.”
“Okay, sorry. But the question is what to take over to her, to be a good friend, because you told me on our last call that no matter what, I should side with my friend, even if she stabbed my other friend in the heart and lied to me.”
Silence.
“Well, I’m just not sure she deserves anything.”
“Oh great, now you’re backpedaling on the advice you gave me earlier.”
“I am trying my best to have a conversation with you and you are hostile. Maybe you should just go make your own decisions and call me when you can speak civilly.”
“Sorry, Mom. Happy Sunday. Tell Sally and the kids hi. And I love you. When are you coming up? I really could use some help.”
“I’d like that, if you’re sure. They have those nonstop flights now pretty cheap. How about if I come Wednesday? Would that help? The party is Thursday, right?”
“That would be great,” I said putting a smile into my voice.
After we hung up, I decided I would take Charlotte flowers. Even I couldn’t stand the idea of a casserole in the summer, and I liked to eat. After calling up to Mel and Oreo and telling them I was heading out, Doug and I took the easy way out—or call it thoughtful—and headed to my favorite flower wholesaler. Once there I created an amazing bouquet of vibrant wildflowers in yellow and purple, hydrangeas (naturally), and a few greens. I had brought along a crystal vase and I worked at the cutting table to assemble my selection. I wrapped it with a purple silk ribbon and bought a sympathy card. Inside I wrote: Charlotte, Alexandra, and Abigail: Yo
u are in our thoughts and prayers. Kelly, Patrick, David, and Sean. I could’ve written our Feng Shui animals, Hare, Ox, Dog, and Rat, I thought randomly. I had just finished the card and was stuffing it into the envelope when I felt a tap on my back. I turned around to face Rachel White. Argh. Maybe she was stalking me?
“Oh say, Kelly, saw you on TV. You’re big time. No wonder you couldn’t be bothered by a little ole baby shower or controlling a teen party,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Yes, well, thanks, gotta go,” I said, wrangling the arrangement into my arms and heading to the counter to pay. I watched as Rachel grabbed a potted plant and followed me to the checkout line.
“I’m just distraught over Charlotte’s husband. So sad. She leaves him, and he is so upset, he starts drinking. That motorcycle accident. It’s almost like suicide. Not wearing a helmet and all. And with those two little daughters,” she said, her prying eyes squinting behind her glasses. “Have you talked with them? You’re new neighbors, right? So sad for Kathryn, really, her husband shacking up so quickly. And what about poor Melanie? Good thing she survived her suicide attempt.”
I imagined pouring my entire fabulous flower arrangement over her head, crystal vase and all. It would feel so good.
“Look, Rachel, it’s all very sad, yes, and I don’t even know how you found out about it all. But instead of talking about them to me, why don’t you do something productive with your—uh—grief. Plant a tree. Pray. Just don’t meddle and gossip,” I said. I was mad, but I wasn’t crying (Wow! #19). “Really, you need a life. Your own.”
And then, perfectly exquisite flower arrangement in hand, I grabbed my receipt from the cashier and walked out the door.
I debated about whether or not to ring the doorbell and ended up pushing the button. Bruce came to the door. I handed him the bouquet and told him to call me, for anything. He actually gave me a big hug and said thanks.
I still didn’t trust him, but I was warming up.
Back at home, I called Mel from the bottom of the stairs and—miracle—she came bounding down, eager to help. Patrick, back from golfing, stood ready to assist too. It was business time. I assigned Mel to the voice mail retrieval and assigned Patrick to the walk-through. He was a master at party flow; he would know where to place the bars, the food, which door we should leave open, which closed. I also assigned him the task of figuring out our fallback since we couldn’t use Charlotte and Bruce’s house. I focused on finalizing the website, emailing my last changes to the web design firm, and reviewing the event To Do list. Ever since my PR firm days, I’d created event lists and timelines to carry off the perfect party, whether for twenty-five or twenty-five hundred. I had forty-one items on this list. That was a problem, since the party was in four days.
Melanie joined me at the kitchen table.
“Aunt Kelly, twenty-three people left messages saying they want to hire you to stage their homes,” she said, and gave me the knuckle-bump.
“Oh my gosh!” I was amazed.
“You’re in business, Aunt Kelly. Big time! Can I work for you?”
“Of course, you already are.”
“Where do we start?”
“Scheduling appointments with each of them. But first, we have to tell them our fees up front and make sure they are willing to pay. My rate is $100 per hour. An average job, for an average size home in Grandville, would probably require five to eight hours of consulting. Vacant homes—like what I did down the street—are a different matter, and I’ll have to negotiate a project fee. Got it?”
“I’m going to be good at getting people to understand your value,” Mel said. “I’m really used to conning money out of my parents. I’m a teenager.”
“Funny.” She was adorable. “Can you try to schedule the appointments for the homes closest to here first? I want to work mostly in this part of town.”
“Of course, Aunt Kelly,” she said, and as I watched, she started Google mapping all of the houses. “I’m going to research your callers on some real estate sites and find out if they are already listed for sale, how many square feet their home is, all that kind of stuff. Then I’ll be able to picture it before I call.”
“Brilliant,” I said, and turned my attention back to Thursday night’s event. Patrick was busy chopping herbs for his signature chili, which would be our dinner. He’d started it before he left for golf, since he liked his chili to simmer for a long eighteen holes. I’d already called Beth and she said that chili was a perfect meal for Mel. We were all working on our own projects, peacefully busy, when the doorbell rang.
Now what? I thought as Patrick offered to get the door. Oreo wasn’t barking—always a good sign.
IT WAS KATHRYN, HOME EARLY.
And, I had to admit, the fact of her return made me jealous. I’d really grown used to the idea of a daughter, especially now that Melanie was talking to me. I pushed that aside and rushed to the door right behind Mel to welcome my friend home.
“Welcome home, Kathryn,” I said, giving her a big hug.
“I can never thank you enough, for all you’ve done,” she said, keeping her arm around her daughter’s waist. Mel had tears in her eyes and she was wearing a smile I’d never seen, one that was glowing from inside.
“Mom, I missed you so much,” she said, hugging Kathryn back.
I was clearly the third wheel here. “Okay you two, why don’t you head to the living room and get caught up?” I suggested as cheerfully as I could while acknowledging silently that my temporary role as a mom of a teenage girl had ended. I started to well up.
Patrick wrapped his arm around me and walked me into the kitchen.
“You knew Kathryn would be back someday soon, right?” he said gently, knowing I was on the verge of a full-out bawl.
I nodded.
“Not only have you done a great job as a friend, but you and Beth have made a real difference in Mel’s life, forever,” he said, pulling me to him in a full bear hug.
“You’re right, it’s just that I’m going to miss her,” I managed to sputter.
“She’ll be living across the street half the time, remember? And she seems to love helping you with your new business. Why don’t you make it official? She could be your first employee,” Patrick suggested.
“Great idea,” I said and felt a little bit better about losing my teen. “Okay, back to work,” I added, pointing him toward his chili pot while I tackled the stack of phone numbers and names that Mel had been working through to set up appointments. I guess I should have looked at them sooner, but I’d been busy handling the party planning. Some of the twenty-three names on the list were folks considered the “who’s who” of Grandville. I recognized at least five of the names. Melanie had made notes next to all of the callers, based on the voice mail messages and her online research. Some of the people who had called for home staging services weren’t actually moving. That’s because in my TV interview I had mentioned that part of my services included rearranging furniture for people looking to change their homes, freshen them up a bit.
I called into the voice mail and started listening to the messages myself. Three of them were creeps who had seen me on TV and wanted me to come over. Mel didn’t tell me about those. I hadn’t thought about that possibility at all, not since the scary encounter with Bob. The fact was, I’d be going into strangers’ homes. I needed to make sure Charlotte and I signed up for that self-defense class soon (T2C #11). I needed to know how real estate agents protect themselves.
Somewhere along the line, Patrick kissed me on the cheek and said it was time to eat. The smell of chili had permeated the air, and my stomach growled. “Why don’t you take a break, start all of this again in the morning? Kathryn’s home, you’ve had a full day already,” he said, rubbing my neck. I melted and acquiesced.
“Can you go find Kathryn and Mel, please?” Patrick asked. The chili did smell delicious. “I’ll set the table for four if you’ll go grab the ladies.”
As I walked into the living ro
om, I noticed Kathryn was sunburned and glowing; she looked so much better than when I had last seen her, crying her eyes out in her car in my driveway. She and Mel sat so close together on the couch that they could’ve been the same person. They were holding hands.
“Sorry to bother you two, but dinner is ready and Patrick is quite excited to share his chili prowess with both of you.”
“Oh, we don’t need you to feed us, Kelly. I was just telling Melanie we should get her packed up and head home.”
“You are staying for dinner. Period.”
“By the way, Aunt Kelly, do you need me to get back to work?” Mel asked.
“Work?” Kathryn asked.
“Mel’s helping me start my new business,” I told Kathryn. “And you know I want to pay you to help me, Mel. Starting tomorrow, until school starts. As long as it’s okay with your mom.”
“Mom? Aunt Kelly was on TV, and she’s officially launching her home staging business this Thursday with a big party at the house. It’s really cool and I’m having fun helping.”
“Wow, Kelly, I had no idea. Here I’ve just been talking about myself, not even asking what you’ve been up to,” Kathryn said. “This is fantastic! Maybe I could help, too?”
“I’d love it,” I said as we walked to the kitchen. “But I can only afford to pay one Majors right now.”
“Once you explain exactly what it is you’re up to, I can help with a business plan. I have severance for a year, thankfully, so I don’t need the money. I just need something to get involved in. I didn’t know how to tell you, either of you, but I was laid off in the last round of cuts,” Kathryn said. “The counselors at the ranch helped me work through it, and I know it’s for the best. It’s just that work had been so much of my identity all those years. I felt lost.”
“Mom, we know. It’s okay,” Melanie said, giving Kathryn’s hand a squeeze as we sat down at the table. Her big white bandages had been replaced by Band-Aids, which discretely covered the wound on the inside of each of her wrists.
