by Nicole Ellis
“There’s not much to tell. We sampled chocolate together and then had lunch at the Bluebonnet afterward. He was a nice guy, but he hasn’t called.”
“He hasn’t called?” Disappointment clouded Maggie’s face. “You looked like you were having such a good time. Did you get his phone number? You could call him. This is the twenty-first century, you know.”
“Stop spying on me!” Gretchen said, but she smiled at her friend. “I didn’t get his number, so the ball is in his court. I hope he calls, but chances are he won’t. He’s from Haven Shores, so he’s probably busy at work right now. Like I should be.” Her eyes drilled into Maggie.
Maggie rose from the desk. “Okay, okay, I can take a hint. Hey, Dahlia asked if we wanted to grab pizza on Wednesday night. Are you up for it?”
“Sounds good.”
Maggie left and Gretchen stared at her computer without seeing the text on it.
Then the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room. She got up to stretch and grab a cup of coffee. She waved at her co-worker, who smiled and pretended to be extremely busy. The familiar warmth of the mug cut through her apprehension about the future and allowed her to focus.
She had a lot to think about. She’d tried to get Parker out of her mind, but Maggie’s observation about how well they’d gotten along reminded her how badly she wanted him to call her back. And now this real estate development thing on top of that. Neither of those were situations she could control. Her main priority still was to plan for a move to Seattle. To do that, she’d need money, so she needed to look into putting her house on the rental market and find a small apartment to rent while she still lived in Candle Beach.
Gretchen had been slammed by a sudden influx of customers the day before, so the next morning, she grabbed the binder of available rental properties from her co-worker’s desk. She opened it and flipped through the listings one by one. Most were either bigger than she’d need and too pricey, or they didn’t allow dogs. One looked like a possibility. She ran her finger down the page, noting each part of the description. It was a small studio apartment over a building off Main Street. It came with a dedicated parking spot, but not much else. Although it would be close to work, it would be a huge step down from her full house with a view of the ocean.
She shrugged. There wasn’t much of a choice. She noted the landlord’s phone number. If she rented this property, she could rent out her own house for three times the apartment’s rent and earn money towards her ‘get out of Candle Beach’ fund.
She dialed the landlord. Ring, ring, ring. After a moment of silence, it went to voicemail and she left a message. On to the next item on her list—finding a second job. She didn’t have any clients until later in the day, so she picked her purse up off the ground and set off for To Be Read.
When she reached the bookstore, she was pleased to see that it was busy. The foot traffic boded well for Dahlia needing extra help and it made her happy to see that the business was a success. Dahlia was ringing up a customer when she arrived, so she browsed the mystery section while she waited for her friend to be free.
A few minutes later, Dahlia tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around.
“I see business is good,” Gretchen said. “Rumor is you make one of the best lattes in town.” After a fire destroyed the interior of To Be Read the previous summer, Dahlia had converted a whole corner of the bookstore into a reading nook with an espresso bar. The scent of ground coffee beans filled the air and every seat on the couch and loveseat was occupied. Another group of customers came through the door and milled around the table offering books by local authors that Dahlia had arranged near the entrance.
“Yes, it’s been great. I’ve even had people come up here from Haven Shores. Apparently there are a lot of people who don’t like the cold and sterile atmosphere of the Book Warehouse. People have really taken to the new layout of To Be Read.” Dahlia looked around the room proudly. “Who would have thought a fire would be the best thing to happen to the bookstore? With the insurance payout, I was able to completely remodel the interior.”
“Hey,” Gretchen said. “I was wondering…do you need any more part-time employees?”
“Why? Are you interested?” Dahlia straightened a section of books on a shelf while she waited for Gretchen’s response.
“Yes, I’m trying to pick up some more hours to add to my savings.” She wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell her friend about her goal to move to the city, but it didn’t seem like the right time. For all she knew, Maggie had already spilled the beans to Dahlia.
“I just hired someone to take on a few shifts during the busy season, but I’ll keep you in mind if it doesn’t work out or if I need more help.” Dahlia looked at her. “You know I couldn’t have made this business a success without all the help you and Maggie gave me. I truly appreciate it and I know Aunt Ruth would be proud of how her bookstore has evolved.”
“No problem. You’re family now. We’d do anything for you.” Gretchen gave her a quick hug. “Do you happen to know of anywhere else that might have an opening for part-time work?”
“Did you try Candle Beach Kids? I heard Abby was looking for someone for a few days a week.”
“I haven’t, but that sounds like a good option. I love that store. I’ll try there next. Thanks for the idea.”
Gretchen’s phone vibrated in her pocket and she took it out to check it. She didn’t recognize the phone number. Was it the apartment landlord calling her back? Or could it be Parker?
“I’ve got to take this,” she said to Dahlia. “See you tomorrow night.”
Gretchen pushed the ‘call’ button on her phone and stepped out of the bookstore. A breeze scented with seawater ruffled the spring flowers Dahlia had planted in the window box. With her free hand, Gretchen pulled the edges of her jacket closed to ward off the chill.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hello, is this Gretchen Roberts?” a man’s deep voice asked.
“Yes, this is Gretchen.” Static filled the line. The wind was messing with the already precarious cell phone service in Candle Beach. Yet another thing she wouldn’t miss about small-town life.
“This is Mareby,” said the garbled voice.
Gretchen pressed the phone harder against her ear. She still had no idea who was on the other end. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” she said politely. “Are you calling about the apartment?”
The static cleared. “No.” The man hesitated. “This is Martin Egglesby. Your friend Maggie at the café told me you were a real estate agent. I’m the developer of Oceanview Estates, a few miles south of Candle Beach on Highway 101.”
“Ah, yes. I’m happy to hear from you. Maggie did mention you’d call.”
“I’m interviewing potential candidates for selling the new homes in the development.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Is this something you’d be interested in?”
Panic froze her for a moment. Was she interested? This could be the best thing to ever happen to her, or it could be the biggest opportunity for failure in her life. Well, she’d promised herself she’d do whatever it took to reach her goals.
“Ms. Roberts? Are you still there?”
“Sorry, the connection was bad for a moment. I’d love to be considered for the position.”
“Glad to hear that,” he said. “I have an opening on Friday, say about ten o’clock? Would that work for you?”
“Ten is fine.”
“Our sales office is located in a trailer at the entrance to the development. Are you familiar with the location?”
Gretchen assured him she knew where it was and they said their goodbyes.
Fear mixed with excitement and her fingers shook so badly that she worried she’d drop the phone. While she contemplated her future interview, the phone vibrated again. Another phone number she didn’t recognize showed up on the caller ID.
“Hello?” A thrill shot through her. Was Parker finally calling her? I wish I’d gotten his
phone number, she thought for the hundredth time. Playing the waiting game was not something she enjoyed.
An elderly man spoke. Her elation disappeared. It wasn’t Parker.
“Ms. Roberts?” the man croaked.
“This is she.”
“I’m Darrell, the owner of the apartment you called about.”
“Oh yes, of course. Thank you for calling me back.” Maybe this was her lucky day. Phone calls about a job interview and a new apartment all in the same day.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I just rented the place out. With all the summer folks, rentals are going fast. I may have something in a few months, but everything I have now is fully rented.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Thanks for letting me know.” She hung up the phone and sat down on a nearby bench. Dejected, she slumped against the back of the bench. Even the colorful purple and yellow tulips growing in a planter next to the bench failed to cheer her up.
What was she going to do now? There hadn’t been any other good options for apartments in the real estate office’s rental listings.
After allowing herself a few minutes to feel sorry for herself, she got up and walked down the hill toward Candle Beach Kids. A cheery turquoise sign welcomed her into the brick building. Inside, the vanilla-scented air and natural lighting created an inviting shopping atmosphere.
“Hi, Gretchen. It’s been a while. What can I help you with?” the shop’s proprietor Abby Lewis asked. She’d wound her dark, curly hair up in a bun, but several tendrils had escaped. She wore a casual uniform of jeans and a turquoise and white t-shirt imprinted with the Candle Beach Kids logo. Gretchen immediately felt at ease. If she had to get a part-time job, this would be a comfortable and fun place to work.
“Hi, Abby.” Gretchen picked up a child’s t-shirt depicting a crab and emblazoned with the words I’m never crabby in Candle Beach.
“Cute.” She carefully folded and replaced the garment on the stack of t-shirts. “I need to get one of these for my niece next time she’s here visiting.”
“It’s one of our bestsellers.” Abby leaned against the counter. “Is there something in particular that you’re looking for?”
“Actually, Dahlia at the bookstore mentioned you might have an opening for part-time help.”
“I do,” Abby said. “I’m looking for someone to work evenings during the week. Do you know someone who might be a good fit?”
“Me.” Gretchen smiled at her. “I’m hoping to pick up some extra hours this summer and I’d love to work here.”
“Well, I’d love to have you here too. Can you fill out this employment application by tomorrow? We can talk more about the job after I review your application.”
“Sure, thanks. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.” Gretchen took the application from Abby and looked it over.
The bell over the door rang and Abby said, “Got to go. Make sure you bring it back tomorrow. I need to make a hiring decision within the next few days.” She left Gretchen and crossed the store to greet the customer who had entered.
Gretchen perused the other store offerings then left. The weather had turned chilly and clouds had formed over the ocean in the formerly blue sky. She’d better get home before the weather worsened. March weather was always a guessing game. You never knew whether you’d get gorgeous clear days, or the storm of the century. Sometimes, you’d even get both in one day.
Maybe it was the same with life. In one day, she’d been given a huge opportunity and disappointing news about the apartment. One good piece of news, one bad. She brightened. Maybe Parker would call and tip the scale toward the positive.
For now, she needed to figure out how to earn money immediately. If she didn’t get the position at the new housing development, the Candle Beach Kids job would help, but she’d still need more money. Somehow, she’d figure out how to earn the funds to move to Seattle.
4
Gretchen stood in front of her own house and stared at it. When Grams passed away, she’d left it to Gretchen, who’d helped care for her in her final years. The gift of the house had allowed her to move out of her parent’s place after she’d returned to the nest following college graduation. Now, it may be the key to moving away from Candle Beach.
The robin’s egg colored Craftsman with white trim stood tall on the hillside, surrounded by greenery and colorful flowers. She’d lovingly kept up the gardens that her grandmother had treasured. New buds formed on the trees and bushes, and red and blue tulips peeked out from behind the rocks bordering the edges of the garden beds. Birds chirped and flew in and out of the feeder she’d stocked with seed that morning.
Would tenants treat the house as well as she had? From what she’d observed at the property management company, people rarely took good care of things they didn’t own. At least for the time being, she’d be in town to keep an eye on things.
If she wanted to get the house on the market soon, she needed to assess if it needed any maintenance. She pushed the garden gate open and walked along the path to the backyard. A light breeze carried the intoxicating scent of freshly blossomed flowers across the garden. She reached the backyard and pivoted slowly. Other than a few weeds to pull, everything looked to be in good condition.
The carriage house style garage with mother-in-law apartment, accessible from the alley, caught her eye. She’d stored a few things up there when she’d moved into Gram’s house. Other than that, she hadn’t really thought about it. She’d planned to use the garage as part of the rental listing, but now another idea germinated in her brain.
What if she rented out the main house and lived in the mother-in-law apartment? The apartment over the garage was old and run-down as no one had lived there in over fifteen years, but she didn’t need much. She ran up the stairs of the carriage house and unlocked the door.
She ran her finger over the two-burner stove, creating a flock of dust bunnies that flitted in the sunlit air. She plugged the small, rusty refrigerator into the wall. It came on with a thump and then settled into a pleasant hum. The appliances seemed serviceable and would be fine for a few months. She opened the bathroom door in the corner and flipped on the light. Mineral rings had formed in the toilet and a spider scurried across the shower stall. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a good cleaning.
She’d lose a little money off the potential asking price if she didn’t rent the garage too, but the loss would be much less than the cost of an apartment in town. If she rented out the big house, she could earn a sizable amount each month and not have to pay rent to someone else. It was a win–win.
Satisfied with her decision, she skipped down the carriage house steps and into the big house. She’d list it for rent online and with her office. With any luck, the three-bedroom, two-bath house would rent quickly. She didn’t know how long it would take to earn enough to move to Seattle, but she hoped it would be before winter.
The house attracted more potential renters than Gretchen would have anticipated, although based on her own experience with the rental market, she should have known. She had listed it on Tuesday afternoon with her own company and on an Internet rental site. By Wednesday morning, she’d already received three phone calls about the property. One of the callers had been particularly excited about the rental and Gretchen had agreed to show it to her that evening before she met Dahlia and Maggie for pizza.
Gretchen was off work on Wednesday, so she spent a few hours in the afternoon deep cleaning the house and reducing clutter. Although she generally kept a neat and tidy house, there were a few spots that needed work, and with a dog, there was always pet hair to vacuum. At five o’clock, when the prospective renter was due to arrive, the house gleamed and smelled like lemon cleaning solution.
Someone rapped on the door and she shoved the vacuum into the hall closet. She quickly wound her hair up in a messy bun and opened the door. A woman in her late twenties stood on the porch, looking at the porch swing and the gardens. A man leaned against the fa
r side of her car, with his back turned to the house.
“Hi.” The woman grinned at her. “I’m Charlotte. You must be Gretchen.” She stretched her hand out to greet Gretchen. Her smile was contagious. There was something enchanting about her. She was a petite blonde with wavy hair that reached halfway down her back and she wore a flowered sundress with a navy blue sweater, perfect for spring.
“Yes, I’m Gretchen. Come in and I’ll show you the place.” She peered at the man outside. He hadn’t moved away from his car door. “Is he coming in?”
“Yes, he’s just finishing up a phone call. We can get started without him.”
“Alright. Well, as you can see, this is the yard and the front porch.” She gestured to the space. “As I noted in the ad, I’m renting it fully furnished. I’ll continue to maintain the gardens and the lawn. I’ll be living in the carriage house, behind the main house, so the backyard will be shared. Does that work for you?”
“Sounds good,” Charlotte said. “The yard is beautiful but I’m happy to not be fully responsible for it. The view is amazing.” She stared out at the ocean, which was partially visible behind a grove of trees. The sunlight glinted off of her sparkly beaded earrings.
They entered the first floor of the house and Gretchen showed her around. “Here’s one of the three bedrooms, the dining room, and the kitchen.”
“Oh, I love how quaint the kitchen is,” Charlotte said. Gretchen wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or not, but she appeared sincere.
They passed by the window to the backyard and Gretchen pointed out the carriage house and the alley. “You can park in the back alley if you’d like. I’ll be parking there as well, but you’ll have one space by the carriage house. You can also park in front of the house on the street.”
Charlotte opened the door and peeked out at the backyard.
“Uh, is your husband coming in?” Gretchen said to the back of her head.
Charlotte closed the door. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, what did you ask?”
