by Rose Pressey
He took the paper and stuffed it back into his briefcase. “I really need to get back to Lexington. Here are your keys. You’ll get copies of the paperwork in the mail. Shall I send it to your new address?”
With one hand, I held the key, and with the other, I ran my fingers through my hair. “Um, sure?” Heck, I didn’t know where the mailbox was. Could I really live in this woman’s home?
“Again, congratulations, Mrs. Pendleton.” He held out his hand.
“I’m divorced.”
I could never allow anyone to call me that. Not anymore.
“Right, sorry, Ms. Pendleton. I was told you were married.”
“Not a problem. Thank you for coming here to see me.” I didn’t know what else to say. I shook his hand and watched as he turned on his heel, then hurried out the door. Mr. Whiteman eased down the broken concrete this time and out of view. In the course of twenty minutes, he had changed my life.
“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it. It’s like you won the lottery or something.” Claire Ann threw her hands up and began pacing in front of the counter.
“Well, considering the woman died, I don’t really want to think of it as the lottery.” I tapped my fingers against the counter.
“She was old, it was her time.” Claire Ann waved her bright pink tipped finger in front of my face. “She lived a happy life.”
I shrugged. “I guess, but how happy could she have been? She was alone the last year of her life, no family, no children.”
Would I turn out the same way? I’d be living in the big old house for the rest of my life alone, too. No children, no husband. I guessed I could get a cat. Or ten.
“You’re right, it is sad, but you have to admit it is pretty exciting at the same time.”
A woman and her toddler approached the counter and I rang up her items faster than I ever had. A matter such as this I didn’t want to discuss in front of anyone. It would be all over town fast enough, no sense in rushing it. After handing over the change, I gave the woman her bag, smiled, and waited until she was out the door before turning to Claire Ann.
“How can I afford the house? The electric alone must cost a fortune.” I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. The heat must have been getting the better of me.
“Didn’t she leave you any cash?” Claire Ann asked as she picked the letter from my back pocket.
I frowned. “No, I don’t think so. Isn’t a house and its contents enough? She probably spent her last penny on utilities.” I shook my head. “What about mowing the lawn? I don’t have a mower, nor can I afford to buy one. And what about if something breaks? How would I fix it?” I shook my head. “No, I’ll just have to sell the house.” I plopped down on the stool again.
“Sell the house? Sell the house?” Claire Ann placed her hands on her hips.
“Yes. That’s what I said, sell the house.” I nodded.
“Who’s going to buy it? Have you seen a house sell around here lately?” She paced in front of the counter.
I stared at her, then stood and began my own pacing. “You’ve got a point.” I tapped my index finger against my chin. “What to do, what to do?”
This could add a whole new level of problems to my life that I’d never anticipated. And I thought things couldn’t get worse. The door on the front jangled and we both spun around to see who had entered.
“Howdy, ladies.” Mitchell tipped his hat and made a bowing gesture, waving his right hand in front of his stomach. He wobbled a little trying to right himself.
I raised an eyebrow. “He must have found his money,” I whispered to Claire Ann.
“Raelynn, seems like you’ve got yourself a house.” He appeared to be more sober than before. Maybe the whiskey was fading.
I liked Mitchell when he was sober. He made sense, and was, at times, even funny. To be honest, I hadn’t known he drank so much until Claire Ann mentioned it.
I let out a sigh and sat on the stool again. “You mean to tell me it’s already circulating around town? How? It’s only been a few minutes.”
“While I was sittin’ next to the building I saw Martha Murdoch stop that lawyer.” He gestured with a tilt of his head. “Next thing the poor sap knew, he was telling her all about it. Was it supposed to be a secret?”
I looked at Claire Ann. She shrugged her shoulders. “You’re going to write about this in the newspaper, aren’t you?” Claire Ann worked part-time at the store and was the editor of the local paper.
Apparently, her pink sandals became very interesting. She stared at her shoes, not glancing up. “Well, it is news… and there’s not a lot going on in Honeysuckle right now. Not until tomorrow when the county fair starts.”
“Yeah, yeah, not a lot of news to go into a small-town paper, I know. I guess people would know anyway when they saw me messing around at the old house.” My shoulders slumped a little further and I let out a sigh.
Mitchell ambled to the back of the store and pulled out a case of beer. I gave Claire Ann the look. “Don’t you think it’s too early to drink beer, Mitchell?” I asked.
“I didn’t know that my business was up for discussion,” he said.
“If mine is, then yours certainly is.” I flashed a wide grin.
He placed the beer on the counter and eyed me. Well… one-eyed me. “Where’d ya get that pretty blonde hair, darlin’? From your mama or pappy?”
I shrugged. “Hmm. Well, neither, I guess. My grandmother had blonde hair. I guess I got the blue eyes from my daddy.”
Claire Ann snickered. “Mitchell’s flirting with you,” she whispered.
I didn’t need her to tell me what he was up to. He was half-drunk; he probably flirted with the fire hydrant, too. Heck, he was so drunk he couldn’t hit the ground with his hat.
“What are ya gonna do with that big ol’ house, anyway? Maybe you need to fill it with a bunch of kids.” Mitchell wiggled his eyebrows.
Was he volunteering for the job? “Well, kids have gotta eat, you know? So I don’t think that would be such a good idea.” I forced a grin and placed the beer in a bag for him. “I can barely feed myself, much less children.”
“You need a husband,” he said as he ambled out the door.
I used to have a husband. I watched him shuffle past the window. “Thank goodness he didn’t propose.”
Chapter Three
A few more customers later and it was six p.m. Time for Becky. She couldn’t get here fast enough. I’d watched the hands on the old Coca-Cola clock and tapped my fingers on the counter for the past half hour. I had thought Claire Ann was going to go nuts from the rat-tat-tat. When the clock hit twelve, I grabbed my purse from under the counter and hurried to the door.
“Time to go,” I said as I waltzed past.
“Whoa. You’re not going without me. Besides, Becky isn’t here yet.” Claire Ann rushed from around the counter.
“What? You’re closing tonight, remember? And you can handle things until she gets here.” I patted her hand.
“C’mon, Becky will be here any second, you can wait for me. She can watch the place while I walk over there with you. I’ll only be gone a few minutes.”
“Well, I should hope so. She’s a teenager and she’s only worked here for two weeks.” I leaned my hip against the counter.
“She’ll be fine.” Claire Ann gave a wide smile.
“She’s smart, but I don’t think she’s ready to close on her own just yet.”
“Don’t get all wacky, I promise I won’t stay long. I’ve never been in the house, I just want to see the inside.”
“Why don’t you bring your camera along and you can take pictures to go along with the article in the paper?” I asked.
She perked up. “Really? That would be great.”
I rolled my eyes. “No. Not really. I’m being sarcastic. You should be used to my witty sarcasm by now.”
She frowned. “You’re right, I should.”
Becky bounced through the door. “You would no
t believe the bargains I found at the mall.” She popped her chewing gum. Her blonde ponytail swayed as she sashayed past in her hip-hugging jeans and cropped white T-shirt.
“Bye-bye, y’all.” I waved as I walked toward the door.
“Becky, I’ll be back in just a few. Hold down the fort.” Claire Ann’s hurried steps rushed up behind me.
As I stepped onto the sidewalk, she fell in step beside me. “This is exciting.” She had a huge grin spread across her face.
I couldn’t help a smile, too. “It is a little exciting.”
“A little?” she screeched.
“Like I said, I shouldn’t be excited over someone’s death,” I whispered.
“You’re not excited over her death. It’s the house that has your insides dancing.”
I held my index finger up to my mouth. “Shush.” I glanced behind us.
She lowered her voice. “Besides, I’m pretty sure she didn’t leave it to you for you to feel guilty. She wanted you to enjoy it. That’s generally why people leave things to people when they die.”
“No, they leave things to people because they can’t use them anymore.”
She scrunched an eyebrow.
“You’re right. You’re right.” I let out a deep breath as we continued our walk. “I promise I’ll try to not feel guilty.”
The walk from Honeysuckle Supermarket to the old Victorian house was a short one, but I took my time meandering down the sidewalk, like a kid skipping home from school on a spring day. The weather was still humid, but in spite of the heat, I didn’t mind the walk. Soon I’d see my new home—up close and personal.
Since my ex-husband left, I had rented a tiny room in Adele Wilkins’ house. The nicest thing I could say about the room was that it provided a roof over my head. It was a few blocks in the opposite direction. It saved on gas money that I could walk to work.
Mrs. McCarthy waved at us as she exited the bank across the street. I was pretty sure she was waving at Claire Ann and not me. Her gray hair formed a neat helmet shape around her head. Her blue dress with pink flowers looked homemade from a 1940’s Butterick pattern. The population in Honeysuckle, Kentucky barely broke the three-thousand mark. No way to hide many details of your life in a town that size. That was why I wasn’t surprised by the frowns that greeted me as I made my way down the main artery of town. Mrs. Barnes and Mrs. Wallace whispered after passing us. The words “husband left her” floated to my ears.
Claire Ann tried to hurry me along. “Would you please hurry? I can’t stand the suspense.” She motioned for me to speed up.
“My legs are moving as fast as they can. I’m only five feet two, you know. My legs are short.”
I avoided the cracks in the pavement and enjoyed the flowers the Honeysuckle Women’s Club had placed in various planters at the beginning of summer. Geraniums were my favorite.
A few fluffy clouds dotted the sky and the sun shone, blanketing the area in brightness. The main part of town consisted of a bank, post office, grocery store, restaurant, and gas station. About twenty miles away was Belleville. They had a Wal-Mart and various fast-food joints. I wasn’t sure how I got stuck in Honeysuckle and why I continued to stay. Wait. I knew why, I didn’t have the money to leave and Ross Perkins had persuaded me to marry him with his smooth talk. I’d always planned on saving up enough money and moving to a bigger city with more opportunities. But now…
“You’re getting some looks now,” Claire Ann whispered.
“Yeah, like I wasn’t talked about enough? You’d think a husband never ran off and left his wife. To top it off, now I’m an heiress.”
Claire Ann laughed. “Let them talk. They have nothing else. Besides, once the county fair rolls into town, they can talk about the carnies.”
“I guess.” I sighed.
The old house sat at the corner of Main Street and Summer Drive. We made our way down the sidewalk, cutting across the church parking lot to avoid talking to old Mrs. Benton, then back out to the road and the corner of Summer Drive. The historic house loomed tall, sitting up at the top of a slight hill. It was an imposing old Victorian painted in a pale shade of yellow with white trim.
The home looked romantic and feminine, yet strong as it towered over the others. A black iron fence surrounded the front yard. I liked the muted color of the house, and thankfully it didn’t appear to be in need of a paint job yet. Maybe by the time it did, I’d have figured out a way to pay for it. The front porch wrapped all the way around the house and each corner had decorative gables. I envisioned throwing grand parties on a warm summer evening with my guests spilling out from the house and onto the porch. However, the likelihood of that ever becoming a reality was slim to none. Maybe Claire Ann could invite some people.
In spite of my happiness over the exterior, my stomach churned when I thought of the interior. Inside might be horrible for all I knew. My body twitched with anticipation. How did I get myself into this mess? I couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or curse. Why did I let Ross talk me into moving to this little town, anyway? There were no jobs here. My degree in journalism wouldn’t get me anywhere. I’d looked into teaching here, but with no luck.
Claire Ann and I stood in front of the home, gazing up at all its glory. We didn’t speak for what seemed like forever. White fluffy clouds drifted against the bright blue background as if in slow motion. My heart thumped with excitement.
“Come on, let’s take a look.” Claire Ann gestured with a wave.
We walked around to the little gate and I whispered, “I love how the wrought-iron fence encases the entire yard.”
“Why are you whispering?” she asked.
“I have no idea.” I chuckled. “I feel as if I’m breaking into someone’s home.”
I opened the gate and waved Claire Ann through. We shuffled along a path flanked with dead-daffodils toward the porch. The house looked lonely, almost sad, as if it waited for someone to keep it company. Claire Ann bounced up the front steps. She hadn’t seen this much excitement since Honeysuckle Supermarket started selling Cherry Diet Dr. Pepper. I stopped to smell the rose bush beside the front step. So maybe I was stalling. I wanted to see the house, honest, but I was nervous at the same time.
The floor creaked under my feet and I kicked the fallen leaves left over from last year out of the way. I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered through the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the interior.
I pulled the key from the front pocket of my shorts. “You ready?”
“Yeah, yeah. Open the door,” she urged.
I knocked on the door. Claire Ann poked my side with her finger.
“Nobody’s home, remember? It’s your home now.”
“Right, right. Yeah, I know.” I nodded.
Colorful leaded glass twinkled above the intricately carved door. I jammed the key in the lock and turned the knob.
“Hello?” I called.
Claire Ann jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow.
“Ouch.” I rubbed my side. “Why did you do that? And if you do it again I’m going to hit you upside the head with my purse.”
“The woman is dead. Do you really think she’s going to answer you? There’s no one home. Let’s go in.” She brushed past me and entered the foyer.
I closed the door behind me while butterflies danced away in my stomach. The house was beautiful… and all mine.
Chapter Four
Carved wood, high ceilings and enormous rooms greeted us. I’d seen houses like this one in magazines, but never had I imagined that I would own one. The smell of furniture polish and old books tickled my nose.
“There could be squatters or something,” I whispered.
“Well, why don’t you make them tea and crumpets?” She smirked. “No one is here, for heaven’s sakes. You worry too much.”
“Aren’t you being sassy today? Getting a little extra attention from Bob?” I winked.
She stuck her tongue out. “You know I’m not seeing him anymore. We’re not t
o discuss him.” She gazed around the space. “Wow. This place is big.”
“Fine, we won’t talk about him. But stop being so sassy,” I warned with my index finger.
We stood in the entrance taking in the surroundings. The foyer had a coffered ceiling and the staircase sat in the middle of the room with an elaborately carved banister. In front of the stairs, the hardwood floor had an inlay design. The high-ceilinged hall led into the parlor.
Claire Ann moved into the room. “The furniture is, um, different.”
I followed her. “It is a bit dated, huh?” I touched the sofa and coughed when dust circled upward and smacked me in the face.
Its orange velvet next to the black leather recliner made the room appear as if it was ready for Halloween festivities. Most of the furniture was worn, but some of the vintage collectibles had my mind decorating already. The wall to our left had well-crafted floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, but they weren’t filled with books. Instead, every shelf held a different knickknack. I loved Victorian homes, but I’d never liked the furnishings that came with them. The hard part would be to keep the home’s charm, but make it modern as well—a mix of the two. The parlor was the first room people saw when they entered—a good place to start. The knickknacks would have to go.
I pointed at the shelf in front of us. “Those dolls are creepy. I think they’re watching us. Look at that one with the wild hair and crazy eyes.”
“Better get rid of them before you find them in your room at night, staring at you.”
I snorted.
Vases with fake flowers collected dust and baskets full of yarn overflowed on the bottom shelves.
“I think she kept everything she ever owned. How old was she?” Claire Ann asked.
“Ninety-two, I think.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and let out a deep breath.
The entire room was full of so much bric-à-brac that it was hard to pay attention to the intricate details throughout. The dark red walls seemed a little too horror movie-ish. The high ceilings and the large baseboards went unnoticed. A fireplace with a gorgeous mantel was flanked by the bookshelves, but the best part of the room was the stunning crystal chandelier.
