by Patricia Fry
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Gail pulled on a drapery cord, but it broke, so Savannah helped her push the drapes aside to let in some light.
“Oh, part of the floor’s missing there,” Savannah warned. “Be careful. I remember my aunt telling me about that.” She turned toward the door, saying, “I have a flashlight in my car.”
“Aren’t you the organized one,” Gail said.
Savannah smiled. “After a scary incident in the swamps of San Francisco a few years ago, I learned to always carry one that works.”
“Really?” Gail said wide-eyed. “You’ll have to tell me that story sometime.”
Savannah nodded. When she returned with the flashlight, she stood inside the front door and shined it around.
Both women jumped when they heard someone say, “Hellooo!”
Savannah clutched her chest. “Oh, Iris,” she said, relieved.
Iris and Gail both laughed.
“Hi,” Gail greeted. “Come in. Thank you for coming over. I hear you’re an accomplished decorator—something I know absolutely nothing about.”
Iris stepped inside and looked around. “Hey, when I heard you might be opening this place up, I was super excited. I’ve admired it for years, although I’ve been a little sad to see it in such disrepair.” She rubbed her hands together. “Can’t wait to maybe give you a few ideas for bringing it back to its original beauty.” She asked Savannah, “So what’s with the flashlight?”
“Trying to find a light that works,” she said, walking across the room and switching on another lamp. “Bingo. I guess light bulbs can last over time without being used.”
“Sure they can,” Iris said. She looked overhead. “What about these ceiling lights?” She flipped a switch, creating a soft glow from above. “Hallelujah, let there be light!” She stopped, took a few steps back, and stared down into the hole in the floor. “Yikes! What happened here?”
“Who knows?” Gail said. “Wood rot would be my guess.”
Iris pulled a notepad and pen from her purse. “Repair floor in living room,” she said as she wrote.
“Let’s hope that’s the worst of it,” Gail mumbled.
Iris continued writing. “You’ll need to paint inside and out and replace the window coverings, and a few windows.” She ran her eyes over the furniture, tapped on an end table, and examined a sofa. Turning to Gail, she asked, “Do you love the furniture—are you attached to it?”
“Well…I guess not.”
“Are you averse to it?” Savannah asked. “I mean, if it’s cheaper to clean and refurbish this furniture than to buy new furniture…?”
“Then I’ll fall in love with what’s in here—no question,” Gail asserted.
Iris smiled. “Okay. That gives me an idea of your priorities. You’re looking for a…” she gazed around the room, “maybe classic early 1900s look as long as it’s within budget.”
“That’s pretty much it,” Gail said. She added, “I’d probably settle for ultra-modern or garage sale castoffs to save money.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Iris said with a dramatic flair, “definitely no modern furniture. We want to keep it as original as possible.” She faced Gail. “After all, your folks were in the furniture business. My family couldn’t afford to shop in their store, but I knew people who could. I’ll bet that what you have in here is really well-built, top-of-the-line furniture.”
“I suppose,” Gail said, walking nonchalantly into the dining room. She ran her hand over a large oak table. “This I definitely want to keep. There are so many memories of…”
“Family Christmases,” a voice from behind them said.
“Delli,” Gail greeted. “Come in and meet my new friends. This is my cousin, Adele,” she announced.
“Hi,” Iris said, offering her hand, “I’m Iris…”
“My decorator,” Gail chirped.
“Nice.” Adele smiled. She looked at Savannah. “Good to see you again, Savannah.”
“Yes,” she said, reaching for Adele’s hand. Instead, she found herself wrapped in a warm embrace. Once Adele had pulled away, Savannah asked, “So is this where the family gathered for holidays?”
“Most of the time.” Adele explained, “Grandma Mobley came as often as she could and spent hours each day in the kitchen.” She glanced at Gail. “We got to help her with fun stuff, like putting sprinkles on the cookies, rolling the cinnamon rolls…”
Gail added, “…cracking eggs, shredding coconut…”
Adele laughed. “Remember when you shredded your fingernails into the coconut, Gail?”
“Oh, don’t remind me.”
Savannah and Iris smiled as the cousins took a brief walk down memory lane. Savannah said, “Sounds like some lovely family times.”
Gail nodded. “Until Grandma couldn’t come anymore. That ruined everything. No more family anything,” she complained.
Adele put her arm around Gail. “But we’re making up for all those missed hours together, aren’t we?”
“We sure are.”
Iris looked from one to the other of the women, then said, “So the dining table stays.” She examined the chairs. “Probably just a good cleaning and maybe a nice finish to protect them is all they need. I wouldn’t try to make them look new. You want this set to maintain its integrity, right?”
Gail nodded and walked into the kitchen. She took a deep breath. “Ick.”
“It’s a good deal better than what you have down below,” Savannah reminded her.
“And nothing that a little elbow grease won’t fix.” Iris opened the refrigerator and made a face. “I’d invest in a new one, Gail.” She jotted something on her pad. “And, unless you’re really attached to the stove, I’d replace that too. It’s been sitting for too long unused except maybe as housing for several generations of rats.”
“Okay,” Gail said, shuddering. “You’ve convinced me.”
The walk-through and assessment didn’t take long, as the home had only one bathroom and three small bedrooms, all of which still contained some of the family’s personal items.
When Adele saw Gail begin to show signs of being overwhelmed, she said, “I’ll help you go through all this stuff, honey. I’d just toss or donate most of it. I mean, you’ve lived without it for how many years?” She continued, “I’d buy a new mattress—maybe two.” Her face lit up. “How about turning your brother’s room into a sewing room?” Adele looped her arm through Gail’s. “I’d love to see you start sewing again. You were so good at it. If you love sewing as much as you used to, you could probably earn a little to help pay for all the work here.”
Gail considered what Adele had said. “Gosh, start sewing again? The thought of it does kind of excite me.”
“Then you should certainly do it,” Savannah urged.
When the four of them returned to the living room, Iris checked her notes and addressed Gail. “The good news is that the hole in the floor here is the only real breach to the structure. I can’t imagine what happened. Do you know?”
“No. It wasn’t like this last time I was up here.”
“My aunt mentioned a caved-in floor,” Savannah said. “She had come here years ago to look for some feral cats. I don’t think they knew you lived here then.”
“Not many people do,” Gail said. She asked, “So Iris, what do you think it will cost to get the place in living condition?”
“And how long could it take?” Savannah asked.
Iris referred to her notes again. “To refurbish the furniture and replace the kitchen appliances and window coverings, if we shop frugally—you know, buy used—maybe between two and three thousand. Painting will be rather expensive because of the condition of the wood. It’s gone a long time without paint, so probably another three to five thousand. I can refer you to people. We should get someone in to give the place a good cleaning before we do anything else. You’ll want to have the floors refinished, and this doesn’t necessarily mean hiring a professional. I know people who work
independently and do a good job.” She addressed Savannah. “I’m wondering if Michael would take on the floor issue. What do you think?”
“I can ask him. He’ll probably also be willing to look at the house structurally—you know, just to be sure the foundation and framing are solid.”
“Great!” Iris said.
“I can do the initial cleaning,” Gail said. “Maybe I can get a few family members to help. That would save us some money.” She asked, “Iris, once all the necessary stuff’s done, would you help me create a nice look in here? I really have no idea how to decorate.”
“I hoped you’d ask,” Iris said. More flamboyantly she added, “That’s my favorite part—I’m your icing-on-the-cake gal.”
Gail smiled. “Thank you. And how…”
“How much do I charge?”
“It depends on how much hand-holding you need. We can discuss that later. In the meantime, I already have a few ideas about how to best use your space and the furniture you’ve decided to keep.”
“Oh, this is all so exciting!” Gail said. “So when…?
“When will you be able to move in?” Iris asked. “Tonight, if you want to. A lot of people live in a home while it’s being refurbished. But you’d certainly want to cover that hole with a piece of plywood before spending too much time in here and maybe take all those drapes out. They’re terribly dusty. Give the furniture and floors a lick and a promise and take care of that general cleaning we discussed. With your crew, that should only take you a day or so.” Iris reviewed her list again. “Let’s get a garbage bin here or hire a hauling service to come get what you don’t want. With one of those large bins, you can toss things out as you go.” She looked at Gail. “How about this: whether you move in here or stay in your basement apartment—either way—start taking everything out of closets and drawers and cabinets and sort through it.” She handed Gail a business card. “Let me know when you’re ready to have it hauled away and I’ll get someone here within a couple of hours. If you have items for a charity organization, put those in a separate pile and we’ll make sure they get delivered or picked up.” She looked at Gail, then Adele and Savannah, asking, “Sound good?”
“Absolutely,” Savannah said.
“Yes,” Adele agreed enthusiastically.
Gail nodded.
“So, Gail, how do you feel?” Savannah asked.
“A bit overwhelmed, but excited.” She wrapped her arms around Savannah. “I am so glad you found me.”
Savannah chuckled. “Me too. Me too.” She looked around the room and asked, “So when do you want to start?”
“Right this minute,” Gail said, heading down the hallway. She called over her shoulder, “Anyone want to help?”
“Gail,” Savannah said quietly, “I think the cleaning-out phase is going to be personal. You might want to do that alone at your own pace—especially when it comes to the bedrooms. Maybe have Adele work with you.”
“Savannah’s right.” Iris said. “You don’t want the distraction of too many others around when you’re going through your family memories.”
“Yeah, probably,” Gail agreed. “But, Savannah, will you come back tomorrow? I might need help making decisions on what to keep and what to toss out. I trust you.” She looked at the others. “I trust all of you. Thank you so much.” She singled out Savannah again. “Will you?”
“Sure. I want to bring Michael over and get his opinion on a couple of things.”
Gail tilted her head. “Wait. Isn’t Michael your husband—a veterinarian?”
“Yes,” Savannah said, chuckling, “and a weekend woodworking warrior. He did all of the refurbishing work in our home. He also helped with the addition at the library downtown.”
“Oh,” Gail said. “Well, that’s impressive. Yes, I’d love to get his take on things.” She pulled her new phone out of her pocket and waved it in the air. “I’ll call you.” She added, “Again, thank you for everything, dear Savannah.”
“You are so welcome. Okay if I take those two cat families with me today? I still have time to drop them off at the clinic.”
“Yes,” Gail said. “Take good care of my sweeties.”
“You can bet they’re in excellent hands.”
Chapter 7
“I have a surprise for you,” Savannah said that evening during dinner.
Michael looked up. “For me?”
“Yes, I got to see inside Gail Allen’s house today. She wants to move in, and there are some construction issues.” She giggled. “I told her…”
“What did you tell her?” he asked suspiciously.
“I told her how clever you are when it comes to building and tinkering…”
“And sawdust-making?” he added, grinning.
“That, too.” She continued, “There’s this big hole in her living room floor, and, I’m sure, other things that need to be replaced or repaired, and I thought you might enjoy a project.”
He let out a sigh. “You don’t think I have enough to do? Do you want me out of your hair or something? Am I spending too much time at home?”
Gladys chuckled.
“I thought you loved doing woody things,” Savannah whined.
“Woody things?”
“You know, woodwork, building, repairing…”
He looked at her over the rim of his iced tea glass. “That’s what you thought, did you?”
“Well, you seem to like having a project. I’m sorry; I’ll tell Gail we’ll have to find someone else. I just thought…”
“I’m teasing,” he said, grinning. “Yeah, I like doing that stuff. I can take a look at the place and see if there’s something I can help with. Maybe Damon would like to get some unique experience with household repairs. Those kids can probably use a little extra money.” He asked, “She’s planning to pay for the work, isn’t she?”
Savannah nodded. “Yeah, but I’d like to give her a break. She doesn’t have a lot of money to spend. But, I don’t think Damon and Colbi are hurting for money after that big gift his grandmother gave them. Remember?”
“Oh yes, I guess you’re right. Then why does he work so darn hard at the newspaper? He works crazy hours sometimes. I thought it was because they needed the money.”
“Maybe because he likes his work,” Savannah offered. “We have a good income, especially since Rags’s books are doing so well. Rob is an amazing promoter.”
“Yeah?” Michael responded.
“But you still work as a veterinarian. Because you love the work, right?”
He nodded. “You’re right there. I wouldn’t want to be a retired dude with nothing better to do than travel the world.”
“Did you hear what you just said?” Savannah challenged.
Gladys laughed. “I’ve never heard anyone say that before.”
He frowned. “Yeah, sounded kind of lame, didn’t it? But I do enjoy my work and that’s what I want to do while I can. Yeah, sure, I’ll take a look at the old Baker place—or I guess it’s the Allen place—and see what interesting challenges lurk there.”
Savannah smiled. “Good. When?”
“Oh, well, I can probably stop by after work tomorrow afternoon.”
Just then Michael’s phone rang. He looked at the screen. “It’s Bud; I’d better take it.” He walked into the other room. When he returned, he looked concerned.
“What is it, hon?” Savannah asked.
He scratched his head. “Well, one of the kittens is missing.”
“A kitten?” she asked.
“Yes, one of those you brought to the clinic this afternoon.” He chuckled. “Your sister named her Marshmallow.”
“Brianna has seen the kittens?”
He nodded. “She stopped by the clinic to drop something off for Bud and he showed her the two litters of kittens. She’s partial to white cats, you know, and she got all excited about the white one.”
“And she’s already named it Marshmallow? How cute,” Savannah said. “Is she thinking about ado
pting it?”
“I don’t know. But I guess she went back to the clinic with Bud just now—he had to check on another cat who had surgery today—and they discovered the little white kitten gone. Not only that, their pen was open, so it’s a wonder the others didn’t wander off too. The mother cat was inside the pen, feeding the rest of the litter.” He thought for a moment. “I guess she could have decided to move the kittens and Bud and Brianna caught her in the process.” He shook his head. “But how did she get that pen open? Maybe someone didn’t secure it…darn it.” He looked at Savannah. “We’ve only had one cat that could manage the latches on those pens, and you know who that was.”
Savannah frowned. “Who?”
He pointed at her. “Your cat.”
“Rags broke out of a pen at your clinic?” Gladys asked.
“He sure did.”
“I don’t remember that,” Savannah insisted.
He thought for a moment. “Oh. Maybe I didn’t tell you about it. Well, he was our first and only escapee ever at the clinic…I guess until now.”
“Like you said, someone probably didn’t close the pen,” Savannah suggested.
“Do you mean when Rags got loose, or this time?” he asked
“Both times. Did they find the kitten?”
“Not yet.” He took a swig of iced tea and walked into the service porch, returning with Rags’s harness and leash. He glanced around the room. “Where is he?”
Just then Savannah’s phone rang.
“Busy phone night,” Gladys noted.
Savannah smiled and said into her phone. “Well, hi there, Gail. Using your new toy, are you?”
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you something—your cat’s over here again.”
Savannah frowned. “Oh, no. Are you sure?”
“Yes. He came through the kitty door…I mean the window that I leave open for them.” She announced. “He brought me a gift.”
“A gift?” Savannah asked hesitantly.
“Yes, a garden glove.” She chuckled. “He’s the only cat I know who brings gifts. I don’t think I told you that last time he carried in a stuffed-dog toy.”
“What? The garden glove makes sense, but I can’t imagine where he got a dog toy.”