“That white matting really helps to make the pieces pop, doesn’t it.”
“Jane!” exclaimed Alice as she examined a painting more closely. “These are your own creations!”
Jane smiled.
“I didn’t know you did modern art.”
“It was sort of an experimental thing. Remember my therapy phase?”
“Well, I really like them. Do you have more?”
Jane laughed. “Yes. Painting proved to be quite cathartic.”
“You should consider a show.”
“Here in Acorn Hill?” Jane frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, maybe we could use some of them in the inn.”
“Oh, Alice, do you think Louise would go for it? I would absolutely love to do the dining room in a more contemporary style. It would be so much more like what I was used to back in the city.”
Suddenly Alice wasn’t too sure about what she was getting herself into. “I guess we’d better talk to Louise about it.”
Jane shook her head. “She’ll say no.”
“What did she think of your room?”
Jane made a face. “I can’t remember her exact words, but she sort of stammered and cleared her throat and said something like, ‘well, isn’t this interesting.’ I could tell she hated it.”
“Oh, I doubt that—”
“Louise and I are as different as night and day, Alice. Honestly, I sometimes wonder how this will ever work. It’s good that we have you.”
Alice tried not to gulp.
“Yoo-hoo,” called Louise. “Are you girls up here?”
“In here,” answered Jane. “Alice is checking out my new digs.”
“Aunt Ethel just called and said she’d be pleased to join us for dinner tonight.”
“So, everything between you two is all right now?” asked Alice.
“I think so. We met for pie this afternoon, and Aunt Ethel gave me a little lecture about men and relationships and propriety.” Louise laughed. “Can you imagine—at our age? I had to bite my tongue a number of times.”
“And you did?” asked Alice.
Louise nodded. “For the sake of the family, I did.”
Jane patted her on the back. “Good girl.”
“So what do you think of Jane’s décor?” asked Louise, peering at Alice with unmasked curiosity.
“I think it’s quite nice.” Alice smiled. “It feels cozy and artsy and fun—all at the same time.”
Louise nodded, but still looked unconvinced. “Jane has offered to help me paint the trim in my room tomorrow.”
“I tried to talk her out of the wallpaper.”
Louise shook her finger. “Too late. I already ordered it.”
“Speaking of décor,” said Jane. “Guess what came by FedEx today?”
“Our paint colors?”
Jane grinned.
“What are they?” asked Alice.
“Yes, Jane, tell us.”
“Not until dinner.”
“But what about Aunt Ethel?” asked Louise.
“She’s family. She has a right to see them too. Besides, it might be wise to have her in on this from the get go.”
Alice couldn’t stand the suspense. “But are they—”
“No more questions.” Jane held up her hands as she moved toward the door. “And unless you two plan to help fix dinner, you better stay out of the kitchen. I don’t want you pestering me about the paint colors while I’m trying to concentrate on cooking.”
It wasn’t until both dinner and dessert were finished and cleared away that Jane finally brought a large brown folder into the dining room. “I’m going to turn the lights up now so that we can get a better look at these colors.”
“This is so exciting,” said Alice.
“Now who decided on these colors?” asked Aunt Ethel.
“Our ancestors,” said Jane. Then Louise brought their aunt up to date on the computer process of uncovering historically accurate colors.
“I don’t know about this,” said Aunt Ethel. “This house has been peach for as long as I can remember.”
“The layers of paint don’t lie,” explained Jane. “Originally this house was definitely not peach. The computer proved this.”
“Goodness, isn’t technology amazing.” Aunt Ethel shook her head.
First Jane pulled a rough sketch of the house from the folder. “I did this rather quickly,” she explained. “It was a guide for where the paint chips had been removed.” She pointed to what looked like a key. “A is for the main body. B is for the shutters, and so on.”
“Interesting,” murmured Aunt Ethel, obviously pleased to be involved.
“I made a copy of my sketch, so that I could color it in according to what the original colors were—just so we could see how it looks all together.” Jane paused to look at the three women. “Are you ready?”
They all nodded eagerly and Jane pulled out a second picture of the house. “It’s really rather nice,” she told them as they all stared. “I mean it’s actually quite conservative for a Victorian—”
“What color is that?” asked Louise, pointing to the strip of trim along the roof.
Jane laughed. “It looks quite similar to my Oriental Eggplant, doesn’t it?”
“The body color isn’t too bad,” said Alice. “Would you call it sort of a taupe?”
“Maybe a dark taupe, with more hints of brown.”
“How about cocoa?”
“That sounds about right. We’ll call it cocoa.”
“Tsk-tsk. It’s so dark,” said Aunt Ethel. “You can be certain the town will never agree to this.”
“They are the accurate historical colors,” defended Jane. “I don’t see how they can disagree.”
Aunt Ethel just shook her head. “But it’s so—so—”
“Horrible,” added Louise.
“What about the green trim for the shutters?” asked Alice. “You said you like dark green trim, Louise?”
Louise looked like she was about to cry. “Can’t we just burn these samples, Jane? Pretend that they never came? Go to good old-fashioned white or even a nice cream?”
Jane pulled out large pieces of painted cardboard now, arranging them on the table. There were four colors in all: cocoa for the body, dark green for the shutters, eggplant for the roof trim and creamy white for the trim around the windows.
Alice studied the colors for a long moment. “They’re not really so bad,” she finally said.
“Not so bad?” Louise looked at Alice as if she’d just used profanity.
“No. They’re starting to grow on me. In fact, I think they might actually look friendly.”
“Friendly?” Aunt Ethel looked as though she thought Alice had completely taken leave of her senses.
“Yes. Now that I think about it, our big light-colored house is a little imposing. The original colors are more humble somehow. They’re really growing on me. I think they will make the yard and flowers look more interesting.”
“That’s exactly right,” said Jane, patting Alice on the back. “You seem to have a bit of an artist’s eye.”
“Oh, I don’t know …”
“To be honest, I’ve never been terribly fond of the color,” said Jane. “I used to jokingly tell my friends that I lived in the giant peach.”
“But it’s always been a giant peach,” said Louise in a tremulous voice. “Why do we have to change it?”
“Right,” said Aunt Ethel. “You’ve just started to get some support from the town lately. Why do you want to rock the boat now?”
“Because change is good,” said Jane.
“And because, in this case,” Alice paused to look at the colors again, just to make sure that she was really sure, “I honestly think it’ll be an improvement.”
“Oh, Alice.” Aunt Ethel groaned. “Of all people, I’d think that you would want to protect your father’s home and keep it just the same.”
Alice paused to consider how her father migh
t react to a change of this sort. Despite his years, he had always adapted rather easily to change. Also, he was probably the most humble man that Alice had ever known, and for some reason the new colors seemed inviting and humble to her.
“Well, I can’t really speak for Father, but do you want to know what I think he might say about this?”
They all nodded and looked very interested.
Alice took a deep breath. “Father was a very humble man. I think that he would be the first to admit that this big three-story house is a bit imposing in the first place, and then to be painted peach … although, I’m sure it never occurred to him to change the color since it had been left to him and Mother looking like this. I can imagine that he would’ve enjoyed living in a more humble home. I suspect he would think returning to the original colors would be an improvement.”
Both Aunt Ethel and Louise looked thoroughly disappointed and slightly deflated by Alice’s little speech, but neither of them spoke a word.
“Well said, Alice.” Jane sighed. “I don’t want to make anyone unhappy. It’s not as if I personally picked out these colors, but I agree completely with Alice. I think Father would’ve felt more comfortable in a house that was a little more friendly.”
Louise groaned. “Well, I have to agree with you on some points, but isn’t there some way we can compromise?”
“Like how?” asked Alice.
“Well, I do like the trim paint, and maybe if the main body color could be just a little lighter, like a nice dignified beige.” She shook her head. “But I cannot abide that awful eggplant color.”
“The problem with a compromise,” said Jane, “is that we instantly lose the historical integrity we were striving for, and that could lead to a battle with the community.”
“She’s right,” said Alice. “If we don’t stick to the authentic colors, we’d probably just have to paint it peach again.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Louise looked defeated. “The rules from the county historic preservation society clearly state that restoration changes must be either historically accurate or approved by the committee.”
“Does that mean that we can go ahead with the painting without approval?” asked Jane hopefully.
“If it’s historically accurate.” Louise sighed.
“Just how accurate is this computer company anyway?” demanded Aunt Ethel. “What gives them the right to make these kinds of decisions?”
“They’re used by historic renovators all across the country. I have all their information right here, if you’d like to read it, Aunt Ethel.”
She waved her hand. “No, thanks. I just wondered.”
“So, are we in agreement?” asked Jane. “Jim wants me to order the paint tomorrow so they can begin on Monday.”
Louise pressed her lips together for a long moment, then finally said, “I suppose I’ll have to agree with the two of you, but now, if you don’t mind, I am going to bed with a headache.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t have a vote,” said Aunt Ethel as she pushed back her chair. “Because I would definitely decline. Harrumph. I wonder what the church board will think of this, Alice.”
“Oh, Aunt Ethel, do you really think this has anything to do with the church board? Don’t you remember what was decided at the last ‘emergency’ meeting?”
“Well, I’m sure that Florence will be interested in these latest developments. And Lloyd too, for that matter.”
Jane turned to Alice and rolled her eyes. “Thanks for coming tonight, Aunt Ethel.”
“Thank you for the lovely dinner, Jane. That prime rib was so tender it practically melted in my mouth.”
“Thanks.” Jane gave her aunt a weak smile and waited until the elderly woman made her way out. “Talk about biting the hand that feeds you,” she said to Alice, and they both laughed.
“Don’t worry,” said Alice. “I’m sure Aunt Ethel will come around before long. She usually does. This will probably blow over with the community too—eventually.”
“You mean after the townsfolk finally get used to the new colors, like in a few months?”
“Or years.”
Chapter Fourteen
Alice was just finishing up her final rounds at the hospital when she noticed a portly woman hurrying down the hallway toward her. She was too far away to see her face clearly, but her distinctive march was a dead giveaway.
“Alice!” called Florence Simpson, huffing her way toward her. “Have you got a minute?”
Alice closed her clipboard and forced a congenial smile to her lips. “I’m just finishing up, Florence. What can I do for you? Medical emergency?”
“No, no.” Florence shook her head and caught her breath. “I was just visiting my great-nephew on my husband’s side, tonsillectomy.”
“How’s young Bradley doing?”
“He’s fine. Spoiled rotten, but recovering just fine.” Florence lowered her voice. “Now, tell me, Alice Howard, what in the world is going on at your house? Last week it looked like a splotchy mess, but Ethel reassured me at church that it was only temporary. Now I drive by the place today, and it looks like it’s the color of dried mud. Were you aware of this?”
Alice smiled. “We prefer to call it ‘cocoa.’ Actually, we are painting it the historically correct colors, Florence. You know it’s listed in the historic register, and these things must be done correctly.”
“But muddy brown? How can that be right? Everyone in town knows that the house has always been the peachy color.”
Alice shook her head. “Not in the beginning. We are painting it the original colors.”
“Well, even if it was that color in the beginning—and I’m not even convinced of that, although I suppose it’s possible that your ancestors didn’t have very good sense—but at least someone in your family had the wits about him to paint it something other than that awful muddy brown? Good night, what could you people have been thinking?”
“Just that we want to keep it historically accurate.” Alice glanced at the reception nurse as if to hint that it might be a good time for an interruption now, but Lola just stood there and watched.
“People in town, not to mention the church, are not going to like this,” warned Florence. “Mark my word, Alice Howard, you haven’t heard the end of this yet.”
“No, I figured I hadn’t.”
Florence smiled that odd little smile that never seemed to engage her eyes. “I just thought that I should let you know about my concerns in person, Alice. It seemed the Christian thing to do.”
“I appreciate your taking the time.”
Alice tried not to fume as she drove home. She reminded herself that Jesus had said to “love your enemies.” Not that Florence was her enemy exactly, but with friends like that…. Alice also remembered that Jesus had said to “pray for those who persecuted you.” That seemed to fit too. So as she drove, she prayed. “Dear heavenly Father, please help me to be patient with those who don’t understand what we’re trying to accomplish with our little inn. Teach me to be more loving and kind toward people like Florence.” She pressed her lips together, then finally said, “And please bless Florence and show her how much You love her. Amen.” Alice sighed. It wasn’t always easy to do as the Bible instructed, but in the end it was always worth the effort.
Over the years, she had grown used to being involved in the little flaps that regularly occurred in their church. They were usually other people’s problems, and she would come alongside them as the peacemaker. She wasn’t accustomed to being an actual part of the problem, and she found it incredibly stressful. Sometimes she wondered if this business of creating an inn would really be worth it in the long run. Then she remembered the fun just yesterday when she and her sisters stripped away layer upon layer of wallpaper. It was like a family history lesson. They had laughed and joked and shared hot peppermint cocoa and all gone to bed tired and happy. Today she simply felt tired. Even though she had gone to parttime at the hospital, it seemed that her
days were fuller than ever before. She wondered if it was realistic to keep up this pace indefinitely. The idea of giving up the security of her job, or even an early retirement, worried her even more. The truth was, it still bothered her to have switched over to part-time. What if some sort of financial emergency arose?
She parked in front of the house and stepped out to see the progress. They had started the actual painting three days ago, but it was just starting to look as if they were getting somewhere. She knew the late afternoon light wasn’t the best time to view the new color, but just the same she thought she liked it. It really had a warm, cozy, inviting feel, sort of like a cup of cocoa on a cold winter night. And now that Jane was getting some of the lower pieces of trim painted, it seemed to come to life even more.
“What do you think?” called Jane as she climbed down from a six-foot ladder and wiped her hands on a rag that was tied to her overalls. Jane wore a big smile and a red bandana to hold back her dark hair.
“I like it,” said Alice.
“Really?” Jane looked hopeful. “That hasn’t exactly been the consensus around here, you know.”
“I know. Florence just paid me a visit at the hospital.”
“You’re kidding! She actually went to your workplace? That woman has some nerve.”
“She was already there visiting her great-nephew.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet she just happened to be there too. Just like she just happened to be driving by here this morning, and the next thing you know she’s standing on the sidewalk throwing one of her ‘I’m going to call an emergency board meeting’ sort of flips.”
“Hi, girls.” Louise stepped out onto the porch wearing Jane’s apron. “Did Jane tell you that I’m on KP tonight?”
“Yeah, since I’m doing hard labor, it seemed only fair that Louise should cook.”
Alice nodded, but wondered, fair to whom?
“You look tired, Alice,” said Louise. “Long day?”
Alice shrugged.
“Aren’t you glad you switched over to part-time?” asked Jane.
“I guess so.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you did, Alice.” Jane grabbed her hand. “It’s more fun when you’re around here.”
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