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Back Home Again Page 11

by Melody Carlson


  “Fun?” Alice peered curiously at her younger sister. “Are you just looking for another willing worker?”

  “Working on the house is fun.” Jane held her chin up. “I love watching it get fixed up and painted. Honestly, I think that’s great fun.”

  Alice nodded. “Yes, so do I.”

  “So are you glad about it now?”

  “About working on the house?”

  “No, silly. About going part-time.”

  “I think so, but it just takes some getting used to.”

  “Dinner is almost ready,” announced Louise. “Tonight we’re having my special corn chowder.”

  Alice nodded, hoping her face looked more enthusiastic than she felt. She had tasted Louise’s “special corn chowder” more times than she cared to remember.

  “Is this the same corn chowder you used to make when we were kids?” asked Jane as Louise headed back into the house.

  “That’s right,” called Louise over her shoulder.

  Jane poked Alice in the arm. “Maybe you can distract Louise by asking to see the fresh paint in her bedroom while I try to doctor up the soup a bit.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Hey, it’s worth a shot. I, for one, happen to be hungry tonight.”

  Alice grinned. “I’m in.”

  To Alice’s pleased surprise, the corn chowder wasn’t half bad. In fact, she even had seconds. Louise kept taking little bites and tasting them with puckered lips, as if something was slightly amiss.

  “Louise, is something wrong with your chowder?” asked Jane, suppressing a smile.

  “It just tastes different, somehow, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “Well, I think it’s the best you’ve ever made,” said Alice, honestly.

  Louise smiled. “Really? Well, thank you, dear. I always did pride myself on my corn chowder. It’s a recipe that’s been in our family for years. Aunt Ethel gave it to me when I was still a teenager.”

  “Oh, that figures,” said Jane, turning to wink at Alice. “So what did you think of Louise’s bedroom color, Alice?”

  Alice tried to think of something positive to say about the stark walls now trimmed in a pale shade of green paint that reminded her of the operating room scrub uniforms. “Well, it looked very clean and bright, and nicely done.”

  “Oh, it’ll look much better when we get the wallpaper up and my things are put into place,” said Louise. “Right now it’s just a blank slate, but I’ll make it my own before long.”

  By the end of the following week, Alice felt as if she had been pulled in a dozen different directions. Two of the nurses on her staff were caught in a squabble over a private matter that seemed irresolvable to Alice. She was afraid she would have to let one of them go but couldn’t decide whether to keep the one who seemed the least to blame or the one who was a better nurse. She hated making decisions like this. On top of that, she had been getting phone calls and visits at work from people like Florence and Lloyd and even Aunt Ethel. On the home front, she was constantly finding herself caught in the middle between her two sisters’ tastes in paint colors, wallpapers and basically every single element found in interior design.

  “I think we should allow the house to breathe a little,” Jane would insist. “Clear some of the junk out and let it be more contemporary.”

  “You’re trying to compromise its historical integrity,” Louise would declare. “This is, after all, a Victorian era house. It should be filled with Victorian era furnishings.” On they would go for what seemed like hours.

  Fortunately, Alice had discovered only today that the county historical committee was more concerned with the exterior of the house than with the interior.

  “Alice Howard?” said the woman on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know if we’ve met since I’m fairly new in the area. My name is Irene Watts, and I’m on the county historic preservation committee.” She cleared her throat, and Alice braced herself. “There have been numerous complaints in regard to your choice of exterior paint colors.”

  “Why are you calling me at work?” asked Alice.

  “Well, I stopped by your house earlier today, and your two sisters were … shall I say, involved in a lively discussion about wallpaper choices. I attempted to broach the exterior paint subject with them, but the older one—Louise, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Louise seemed more interested in pinning me down on the necessity of maintaining the historical accuracy in the interior.”

  “I see.” Alice sighed.

  “When I informed both of them that the historical society has no intention of playing Big Brother when it comes to a home’s interior, your other sister seemed to feel that this was her green light to turn the house into something more modern. I just want to make it perfectly clear that it’s only the exterior colors and outside renovations that concern us.”

  “Thank you, that’s good to know. So you’re saying we can do as please with the interior?”

  “Well, as long as you don’t do something terribly radical or extreme. We wouldn’t want to see the historical integrity compromised.”

  “How would you define radical or extreme?”

  “For instance we wouldn’t like to see you putting in a bowling alley or movie theater.” She laughed. “Although I must admit that those things have been done in some cases without creating any problems. But whether you use modern furnishings or antiques is of absolutely no interest to our group.”

  “Oh.”

  “I think I simply caught your sisters at an awkward moment,” explained Irene in a softer tone. “I ran into Lloyd Tynan at the Coffee Shop—he’s an old friend. Anyway, he suggested I might try calling the hospital and directing my concerns to you. He seemed to think you’d be a good mediator.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway, my main question is this: What was your reasoning for choosing those particular exterior colors?”

  Alice barely mentioned the name of the firm of color experts before she was interrupted.

  “You’re kidding? How did you hear about them?”

  “My sister knew about them. She’s from San Francisco and—”

  “Well, she’s one smart lady.”

  “So, are we okay then, on the exterior colors?” Alice asked.

  “Of course. You’ve done it just right. I must say that I personally like the colors a lot, and I was interested in how you managed to come up with something that seemed so historically appropriate, but I had no idea that you’d gone to such trouble. People like you make our jobs so much easier.”

  “What about the flak I’ve heard that the townsfolk have been giving your committee?” Alice sighed. “And us.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen all this before. Especially in small towns like Acorn Hill, but, trust me, people will get used to it in time.”

  “In time.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll try to spread the word around that your house is A-OK with me and the historical society.”

  “Thanks so much. We’d appreciate that.”

  “If you have any questions, please, feel free to call. I left my card with your sisters.”

  “Great. We’ll be sure to do that.”

  “I don’t want to make you feel paranoid, but I’d love to check in from time to time, just to see your progress. It’s such a beautiful home, so much potential.”

  “Of course, stop by anytime you like. My sisters will be calmer the next time you visit, I hope. They’re both very nice women—under normal circumstances.”

  Irene laughed. “I’m sure they are. Believe me, I understand how large renovations like this can bring the worst out in people. I’ve seen marriages literally destroyed over remodeling projects.”

  “I hope we’ll all still be friends when we’re finished.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  After Alice hung up, she felt as if she’d made a new, and possibly valuable, friend. She couldn’t wait to tell Jane and Louise the
good news. Well, that and to warn them to mind their manners a little better when visitors came calling. She feared that Irene was right, perhaps the stress was getting to all of them, or maybe this was just God’s way of confirming to her that she had made the right decision to go parttime in her work after all.

  Alice prayed that God would continue to lead and guide her as she drove toward home that evening. Then she reminded herself that the best things in life didn’t come easily, and that was most likely going to be the case with Grace Chapel Inn. Perhaps she and her sisters were like the children of Israel being led from Egypt to the Promised Land. Hadn’t there been a lot of bickering and complaining along the way? She hoped that the three of them wouldn’t do anything drastic enough to get themselves stuck in the wilderness. She didn’t really think that any of them, well, perhaps excepting Jane, would still be around in forty years.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alice arrived home to find Jane and Louise at something of a standoff. From the partially opened door, Louise appeared to be cloistered in her bedroom, surrounded by a number of crates. Jane was clanking around in the kitchen, apparently reorganizing, but Alice felt there was an inordinate amount of banging pots and slamming drawers going on. One thing seemed clear, neither of them appeared willing to talk just now. Certainly not to one another, and they didn’t offer much more than a slightly disgruntled greeting to Alice.

  Alice felt bewildered by her sisters’ behavior and not quite comfortable in her own house. For the first time in ages, she found herself knocking on Aunt Ethel’s door.

  “Hello, dear,” said Aunt Ethel, peering over Alice’s shoulder with curiosity. “What brings you over here?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Alice sighed and then held up her hands in a somewhat hopeless gesture.

  “Well, do come in, dear.” Aunt Ethel held the door open wide. “It’s chilly out there tonight.”

  Without waiting for an invitation to sit, Alice flopped down onto her aunt’s overstuffed velvet couch. “I thought maybe you might know what’s going on.”

  “Oh, are Jane and Louise still feuding?”

  Alice nodded.

  Aunt Ethel snickered slightly as she lowered herself into a padded rocker. “Those two.”

  “They’re both so upset that neither one of them will speak—not even to me. I just don’t get it.”

  “Well, I happened to pop in over there earlier today and I suddenly found myself caught in the middle of their little disagreement.”

  “I’m guessing it was about the wallpaper.” Alice shook her head in disbelief.

  “The wallpaper, the paint colors, you name it and those two don’t agree on it.” Aunt Ethel wore her I-told-you-so expression as she contentedly folded her hands in her lap and rocked back and forth.

  “I don’t see why they won’t at least talk to me. It doesn’t seem fair that they should shut me out.”

  Aunt Ethel cleared her throat and then patted her hair. “Well, maybe it has to do with what I told them earlier.”

  Alice groaned. “Oh, no, what did you tell them, Aunt Ethel?”

  “Just that it wasn’t fair to constantly stick you in the middle.” She leaned forward and peered at Alice. “I told them that I think that it’s been taking a toll on you and that they should learn how to settle their petty differences without endlessly putting you into the thick of it. It’s just not right!”

  “I don’t mind really. I’d rather be in the middle of it than on the outside while they both fuss and fume.”

  “They are grown women and should be able to resolve these little spats on their own. You’re a busy woman, Alice. You have your job and your church responsibilities. You certainly can’t be expected to play nursemaid to two overgrown—”

  “Aunt Ethel, I appreciate your concern for me. I really do.” For the second time today, Alice felt tears filling her eyes. “You’re not wrong either. It has been a little stressful lately.”

  Her aunt nodded with satisfaction.

  “I’m sure that it’s helping me to appreciate that I decided to work fewer hours.”

  “You’re certain that’s what you wanted to do, dear?”

  “I am now.”

  “I know how you’ve always loved your job, Alice.”

  Alice nodded. “I still do, but I’m equally excited about working in the inn.”

  “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to give up your nursing career completely, Alice. You’re so good at it.”

  Alice smiled. “Thanks, Aunt Ethel. That’s probably one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me, and you’re right. I’m not ready to give it up just yet. I know that it’ll be time for me to retire someday.”

  “Well, it’s true, dear. You are a natural-born nurse. You’ve always been good at taking care of others, but sometimes I expect you need someone to look after you. Now how about a nice cup of tea?” She pushed herself to her feet. “I guess I almost forgot my manners.”

  Alice ended up eating a small, simple dinner of cinnamon toast and peaches with her aunt. When it was all said and done, she decided that this was probably one of her best diplomatic efforts so far—not that she had intended it for such. By the time she was ready to go back home, Aunt Ethel took her by the hand and smiled.

  “Now, don’t you worry about a thing, Alice. I’m sure that everything will turn out just fine for your little inn. Remember, it’s often the best things in life that seem the hardest to come by.”

  Alice nodded. “You know, I was thinking that same thing as I drove home from work tonight.”

  The house was quiet when Alice slipped back inside. She paused to look at the bare walls in the dining and living rooms. Completely stripped of their many layers of wallpaper, at first they looked cold and naked, but after a while she thought they looked pretty, all clean and bare like that—as if you could see the real lines and architectural structure of the house. She noticed the interesting wood trim around doors and windows and the crown molding around the high ceilings, as if seeing these things for the first time. It really was a lovely old home. It just needed a little tender loving care, not to mention elbow grease, to bring it back into its prime.

  She quietly tiptoed up the staircase toward her room. Strips of yellow light were coming from beneath both her sisters’ doors. Well, they haven’t murdered each other yet, she thought. It wasn’t long before she had on her cozy flannel pajamas, the comforting ones with little teapots and teacups printed on the fabric, as well as the hand-knitted wool slippers that Louise had sent her last Christmas. She had just picked up her new mystery book when she heard a little tap-tap-tap on her door.

  She cracked the door open to see Jane wearing a dark red chenille throw like a shawl over her pale lavender flannel nightgown. Jane’s thin bare feet looked cold and pale standing on the hardwood floor. Alice opened the door wider and motioned her forlorn-looking younger sister to come in.

  “Want to talk?” asked Alice.

  Jane nodded.

  “I feel absolutely rotten,” Jane confessed as she sank into Alice’s easy chair by the window. She wrapped her throw more tightly around her shoulders and tucked her bare feet up under the hem of her gown. “I’ve acted like a complete moron today. I’m sure Louise will never speak to me again. She’s probably in there packing her bags right now. I’ve heard her making all sorts of shuffling noises. I’m so sorry, Alice. I’m sure I’ve ruined the whole idea of running an inn for everyone.”

  “Oh, Jane.” Alice shook her head. “You’re overreacting. I suspect Louise is just unpacking her crates, making herself more at home. Oh, she may have gotten her feelings hurt a bit today, but then you know that our Louise is like a rock. She doesn’t budge that easily.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me.”

  “I heard you two had a bad day.”

  “Does the whole town know?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Jane moaned.

  “First I heard it from Irene—”

&nb
sp; “That historical society lady?” Jane frowned.

  “She’s actually pretty nice.”

  “Humph.”

  “And then from Aunt Ethel.”

  “Well, that figures.”

  “What happened?”

  “You know. Just the same ol’ same ol’.”

  Just then a sharper knock-knock interrupted their conversation. “Come in, Louise,” called Alice without even getting up.

  “Oh!” Louise looked surprised to see Jane. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Alice patted the bed beside her and smiled. “No, I think you should probably join us.”

  Louise adjusted her dressing gown more neatly around her and then sat at the edge of the bed next to Alice. Her lips were pressed firmly together, but her eyes looked tired and sad.

  “I know you girls had a bad day today,” said Alice. “Let’s just say I heard it through the grapevine, Louise.”

  “That nosy historical lady,” said Jane.

  “Figures,” said Louise.

  “Now, listen, you two. Irene is really quite nice and reasonable. Of course, she thinks you two are both certifiably nuts. She wants you to understand that the society doesn’t give a hoot what you do with the interior of our house—”

  “But what about—”

  “Louise,” warned Alice. “I’m not finished. Anyway, Irene was very pleased to find out how we discovered the original paint colors for the exterior. She happens to like them too. She said she is going to try to spread the word around that we are historically correct.”

  “H.C.?” Jane said with a smirk.

  “I guess you could call it that.” Alice nodded. “I also had a nice little chat with Aunt Ethel tonight. She mentioned that you two got a bit out of hand too, although she didn’t seem surprised.”

  “Yes, she made that perfectly clear,” said Louise as she played with the belt to her robe. “I’m sure that it’s exactly what she expected.”

  “I wanted to tell you both something.” Alice waited to make sure she had her sisters’ attention. They both looked up expectantly.

  “Oh dear, is it bad?” asked Louise with worried eyes.

 

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