Retreat to Woodhaven (The Hills of Burlington Book 2)

by Jacie Middlemann

  "Yeah. That's one word for it. But seriously, look out there, up and down the streets, what do you see?"

  Sighing deeply, beginning to have an idea of where this was going and realizing the man was a lot like his sister. "Kids playing, dogs running after the kids who are playing." He looked to his left, down the street back towards town, "A couple of old guys playing cards on one of their porches, a lady hanging her laundry out up on the balcony." He looked at the man who stood beside him, again with what could only be called a silly grin on his face. Pete sighed. Walked over and sat down on the first step. Wondered if he could get home early enough to make the cheesecake Casey loved so much that she could eat the whole thing in one sitting. Lord only knew he was going to have to do something to soften this blow.

  "And what did we see out on the streets of the place on North Third and that other place, wherever it was."

  "Buildings, trees, some houses, parking lots. Okay. I get it." And liked the man better for it despite himself.

  Dave turned back to the house. Knew it was going to be a major effort and an even bigger re-do but maybe that was something he needed too. Something to put himself into so that the finished product was his. And only his. Not just something he took over from someone else. "What do you think I can get it for?"

  "Don't you want to look upstairs first?"

  "I'm going to get to that. So, what do you think I can get it for?"

  

  Mary drove through the streets carefully following the directions her brother had given her over the phone. She'd heard Pete in the background giving them to him to repeat to her. If she had wondered at the quiet resignation in Pete's voice it was offset by the excitement in Dave's. She turned off Division Street onto Third and started looking for the street address he'd given her.

  She ended up going several more blocks before she saw her brother standing outside waiting for her. Then she saw the house. And even as her gaze was drawn to the house she couldn't help but see Dave practically bounce down the walk to meet her as she pulled in behind his car. In that moment it didn't matter a whit if it took six months to make the place habitable, she decided on the spot. She hadn't seen Dave walk with any kind of purpose in years. If this was what he wanted she'd do everything she could to help him get it.

  "What do you think?" He asked as he pulled her door open and stepped back to make room for her to get out.

  She stood, looked at the worn out old house that had seen many, many better days. Then she looked at it with a vision of what it could be. That was what her brother was doing. So could she. "When was she built?"

  "In the late 1800s. But it's sturdy. There was an inspection a couple of months ago. It needs rewiring pretty much everywhere but the plumbing is relatively new. The roof is relatively new too," he added almost defensively.

  Mary heard the tone, the anticipation, understood where it came from. Where he came from. Taking a breath, she moved forward, struggling to remember that all things took time. "I'm wondering what the architectural style is. It almost seems like a mix between Victorian and Neoclassical." She looked at him with a smile on her face. "You want some help picking out paint colors and furniture for the place?" She almost felt faint from shock when he threw his arm over her shoulders. It had been so long that he'd shown such casual affection to her. To anyone.

  "Sure." He led her up to the front door unaware of her surprise at the easy camaraderie between them instead of the almost formal politeness they'd shared in recent years. "Let's go upstairs first. I'm trying to decide where I want my office." He followed her up the wide staircase with its huge landing midway up. "My first thought was to set it up in the room behind the kitchen. It's got an awesome view." He led her down the hallway into the last room at the end. "Then I came up here and saw this." He gestured with an arc of his hand encompassing the wall of windows at the back of the room overlooking the Mississippi.

  Mary entered the room, careful of where she walked, wary of what she stepped on. But once she looked up from the floor she was stunned speechless. "Wow!"

  "Yeah. That's what I thought too. It's even better up here than downstairs. This room is almost right above the kitchen and the room behind it." He walked up to the glass which seemed to be the only clean surface in the entire house. "I can see myself working here."

  "Me too. But would you get anything done?" Mary asked still dazzled by the view. The river itself was enough to draw the eye but the huge panoramic view of trees leading down to the water's edge with the streets, many of them still paved in brick and wandering almost elegantly down the hillside was breath-stopping.

  Dave looked away from the almost hypnotic sight of the river to the room they stood in. It had been renovated somewhere along the way. Someone had built out a couple of the walls to put in closets. He would bet that under the uglier than sin carpet was the original wood flooring...probably in desperate need of restoration but wood flooring nevertheless. "I could. Easily." He answered her then gestured to the walls. "If we took out those closets and went back to the original walls I could use one of them for all my law books. I wouldn't need a separate room for my library. Rip up this carpet." He took her hand in an unconscious move that had her again silently thanking the powers that be for giving her back the brother who had been lost to them for so long. Mary followed along in his wake as he led her into the room next to the one they'd just been in. "That wall backs into it, once those built-in closets are out I bet we could put a door in that wall that would connect the two rooms. This room," he splayed his hand up and outward, "would work perfectly as a meeting room. Kind of like a mini-conference room. We could put a little table right in the middle, enough to seat four, maybe six, a little mini kitchen against that wall," he pointed to the opposite wall where the two rooms would be connected with a shared doorway. "Just a little fridge and sink, in the event meetings go on long and someone wants something to drink." He looked around, closed his eyes and pictured it in his head. Not for the first time. It still looked good. "It would work."

  Mary could see it just as she could see and feel the excitement literally vibrating in waves off her brother. She hadn't seen him like this since he'd graduated from law school. "You're thinking of doing your office in dark woods, neutral colors?" At his nod, she looked around the room he meant for a meeting place. "Then I would do this in brighter colors, not neon bright, and not quite pastels, but colorful. Easy on the eyes yet colorful enough so being in here isn't as difficult as the reason that may have brought them here in the first place."

  "Exactly." Dave thought of the conference room at the firm, his father's firm. It was dark and gloomy. He wanted this to be inviting. Just because you needed a lawyer didn't mean it had to be all doom and gloom. "Like a sunny kitchen." He looked over at the wall he'd considered for the fridge and sink. "Maybe we should expand on just having a fridge and sink. Add some counter space for, I don't know, a cookie jar. Stuff like that. Brighten it up."

  "I think it would be perfect." Mary walked back out to the hallway. Glanced carefully into each of the rooms as she headed back to the stairs. At the top of the staircase, hearing her brother behind her she stopped. Turned back to him. "What part of the house would you live in with your office up here?"

  Dave motioned her down the steps. "My first thought was to have the office area downstairs and live upstairs. But that was before I saw that room with the wall of windows."

  "I can see where that would make you think twice." She continued to watch where she set each foot once she reached the bottom of the stairway and followed him through rooms that seemed to flow from one to the other. So intent on what she was and wasn't walking on she almost bumped into her brother when he abruptly stopped. Only then did she look up. "Oh my." She made her way to the glass wall spread out in front of her never minding this time about what she heard crunching under her shoes. "I can see where the decision was a difficult one." Like the view upstairs this overlooked the river. There wasn't the wonderful view of the hill
side that was to be had upstairs but it was nothing to sneeze at either. "You know, Dave," she motioned to the door leading to the kitchen and the rooms beyond. "I don't know that it would have been my first thought, but I think you're absolutely right. The upstairs is perfect for your office and conference room." And maybe an office for an associate someday, she thought wistfully to herself. "This," she splayed her hand in a moving arc, "would be a wonderful bedroom for you." She motioned toward the kitchen. "You have easy access to your favorite room in the house." She turned and looked through the doorways they'd just come from. "You could set up the other rooms down here as a living room, dining room, TV room, whatever you want. There's enough space for one or all." She turned back to the wall of windows behind her. "But this would be a great bedroom. You could do something with the porch out there, maybe even make it an extension of this room. It would be great." She smiled at him. Saw his thoughts even as he thought them. "Let's look out here." She moved over to the door leading out to the porch, stepped down avoiding the rotted out step at the top.

  "Needs work." She heard her brother mutter then walked around the porch with ideas already forming in his head.

  "Anything worthwhile is worth the work."

  "You sound like Mom."

  "Thank you." She meant it and sounded so.

  "Good grief, Mary. Look." He pushed open the screen door and cautiously made his way down the stone steps that led into the backyard.

  Mary followed him wondering what he'd seen now that had set him off and had him again sounding like the brother of long ago. Then she saw as he did. "I hate to sound redundant. But wow!"

  Dave looked down what had to be hundreds of brick steps starting at the back edge of the backyard leading down to the street far below. "This is so cool!"

  "They also look a little dangerous." But Mary knew her brother was sunk. He'd taken to this place like nothing she'd seen in years. She sent a silent thank you like a prayer. When she turned to head back to the house she could only stop and stare. Words escaped her so she simply laid her hand on her brother's arm to get his attention.

  "What?" He turned, followed the direction of her astonished gaze. "I'll be..." remembering who he was with, "pickled."

  "Oh, please, that is so old." But Mary couldn't help the quiet laugh even as she made her way to the side of the house and what had drawn both their attention.

  "Maybe. But as I remember preferable than what I was going to say." He reached the structure before she did. Jiggled it and decided against his initial plan of climbing them.

  Mary looked up the old steps. "They have to be as old as the house." She walked back a few steps to look up at the back of the house so she could better place their position. "Dave, I think they go up to that back room. The one you decided on for your office."

  "I thought so." He pictured the room in his head. "They must have covered the doorway with those closets." He looked thoughtfully up at the door at the top of the steps.

  "Don't even think about it," Mary warned. She knew the look. It tended to overcome her son on a regular basis. She had always thought of it as the considering the ridiculous look.

  "You're right." But it was a temptation. "I need to find a good contractor," he thought out loud.

  "You're in luck." Mary started back to the house knowing he would follow.

  "You know one?"

  "Better than that. We're related to one."

  "What?" He closed the front door behind him as they walked through it towards their cars.

  "He's a distant cousin on Dad's side and even better that that he lives right next door to me." She turned back to him before she slid into her car. "Do you remember how to get to Nanno's old house?"

  "Vaguely. Less than that. I'll follow you." He decided decisively then glanced at the bags piled up in the back of his car. Decided in that moment staying at a hotel wasn't really what he wanted. "Can I bunk in the back bedroom for a couple of days?" At her look he knew it was a given. "Stupid question I guess," he muttered but loud enough for her to hear.

  "Very stupid question."

  

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "Wait," Terry pushed her husband back away from the door. With the key in his hand he stopped and looked at her with the impatience he knew had to be obvious. They had to be on the road soon if they were going to catch the plane out of Chicago that night. She watched him watching her. Patiently. The exact opposite of his own mind-set at that moment.

  "This is important." She started out with a degree of insistence she knew wasn't what he expected. She felt her tongue fumble around her in mouth like she hadn't since she was sixteen. This was her husband for Pete's sake. They'd been married for over ten years. She should be way past the point of fumbling for words. "This is our first house," she tried, waited for him to understand. At his raised and questioning eyebrows, a sure sign he didn't think she was making sense but excused her for it because of her gender she plunged forward again. "This is the first house we've bought together. Not one that one or the other of us already had."

  "Ah!" .

  "I was making sense, just not all at one time."

  Mark wisely chose not to respond to that one. Instead, without saying a word, he unlocked the door, opened it and pushed it slightly ajar. Pocketed the key with a mental note they needed to change all the locks and upgrade to something beyond a skeleton key anyone could buy anywhere. With that thought planted firmly in the back of his mind, he turned to his wife and without any warning swung her into his arms before nudging through the door.

  "Hey," she laughed but was inwardly and quietly thrilled. "I'm too heavy."

  "You've never been too heavy, even when you were nine months pregnant and busting at the seams with our little monsters."

  Terry threw her arms around his neck and held on as he continued through the house and into the kitchen. And was again thrilled and surprised to see a bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses on the counter as he gently set her back down. "You'd already thought of it."

  "I think of everything," he agreed pleasantly. And in this case it didn't hurt that he’d a little bird chirping in his ear. He owed Casey big time.

  "Oh, Mark." Terry turned around where she stood, taking in the big kitchen with its glass front cupboards. She loved the old waving glass. "Isn't it wonderful?"

  "It is," he said quietly, looking at his wife. "Can you be happy here?"

  "Oh, yes!" She said as she turned back to him. Understanding him better than he knew. "Here. Maryland. Alaska. The Arctic. The Amazon." She leaned in to him, snaked her arms around his waist. "As long as you were there with me."

  "Okay," was all he said. Was all he could say. He held her close. Looked out over the window, out over the city that they were going to make their own. A small town. An even smaller city newspaper. The family that made it all worthwhile. Now all he had to do was get back and finish up the business he'd started. Though he knew the man would only be a phone call away he wished like the devil Jake would come back too, even for just a day. He started this whole mess that he still had to go back to deal with and it would be only just if his new business partner had to deal with it firsthand as he did.

  

  Mary looked across the table at her cousin Carrie, lifted a brow in question. Did she have any idea what this was all about? The answering signal was clear. No.

  Mallie looked around the small kitchen. She had set out wine glasses and had a bottle of what her grandmother had said was a good wine. She hoped so. She wanted this to be special. She needed it to be. She had a pie in the oven that was almost done. She just hoped it tasted as good as it smelled. It was one of the recipes they were considering for the next cooking segment. And she knew from experience learned firsthand the hard way that just because it looked good in the picture, smelled good in the oven, didn't have anything to do with how it actually ended up tasting. She should have just made the cheesecake she knew always turned out great. That, she sighed wistfully wishing for a spare
hour, and the simple fact her Aunt Carrie loved it.

  She really wanted Mary's approval. But she desperately needed her aunt's. And not just because she counted on her to get her folks on board. Her Aunt Carrie was everything she wanted to be. Classy. Calm. She always knew who she was. And look at me, she thought. I can't even begin to figure it out. As she looked around again, nervous and wishing she could just pull the pie out of the stupid oven, she caught her grandmother's eye. The knowing wink, her smile that said in high volume that everything would work out ... well it helped. Some.

  "Mallie." Carrie waited for her niece to turn in her direction. "Sit." She patted the chair next to her. She didn't have a clue what was going on and assumed Mary had gotten the same call she did to come over for pie and ice cream. She noticed the wine glasses immediately and wondered what was up. Mallie's nerves and her mother's quiet attempts to calm her only heightened her curiosity. She knew when a scene was being set. She'd done it herself. And Lord only knew her husband, soon to be ex-husband, was a master at it. She also knew how to defuse frenzied nerves. Was an expert at that if nothing else. "I haven't been here much since the remodeling was finished." She looked around. "It looks wonderful." She could see the living area through the kitchen door. Up until Mary had bought the Marshall Street house with the Carriage house in the back, only the upstairs of the building had been what only the most optimistic individual could consider livable space. The first floor had always been for exactly what it was named. Carriages. Probably horses at some point before that since it had been built before the turn of the last century. Once her mother and niece had both decided to stay in Burlington it wasn't long before her cousin Mary, who seemed to be collecting property in a way similar to that of their great-grandmother, offered them a choice of where to live. Her mother had immediately chosen to live in the Carriage House. Mallie, her mother's partner in crime and just about everything else, decided to stay with her. To make the building more habitable and to accommodate her mother's painting, something she had finally taken back up after not flicking a single stroke in ten years, the downstairs had been cleaned up and renovated into a larger main room where they had set up a TV and computer system that made it into a nice homey living area. On each side of that room were two smaller rooms. The kitchen in which they were now gathered and on the other side an even smaller room they'd made into a cozy guest room. The upstairs had been restored with few changes. The larger room on the north side had been made into two rooms. The larger room in the middle was now her mother's bedroom and the smaller room that connected to it had been turned into an art studio for her with almost three full walls of floor to ceiling windows to let the light in for when she chose to paint. Something which she was doing more and more often with Mallie as her most frequent model. Just the week before she and Casey had installed an unbelievable number of blinds over the windows to allow her mother to adjust the light as needed and from a ridiculous number of angles. Sighing she looked at the woman in question who was in turn studying her thoughtfully.