“Have you thought any more about your tea shop?”
Puzzled, she shook her head. “You know I can’t—”
“You want a shop. I have a building that needs a tenant. More important, I have a niece who needs someone besides me in her life. She looks at every housekeeper and nanny I’ve hired as a threat, someone set up to take her mother’s place. But she likes you. She likes Lillian.” He glanced over at the older woman. “You have to admit your mother couldn’t threaten a bug.”
“But—”
“Chrissy wants to live in the building on Main Street.”
Maddie blinked.
J.C. told her about the two apartments above the business level. “They haven’t been lived in for a while. Jay’s parents lived in one until they passed away. Then Jay used them mostly for storage the past few years, but both could be made livable without a lot of work.”
“Even if that was a viable option, Mom can’t handle stairs.”
“Jay had an elevator put in for his parents.”
Maddie glanced over at her mother who was busily chatting with Didi about African violets. “Even so …”
“It would be an enormous help to me. You and your mother are right. Chrissy should feel safe. With you directly across the hall, she would.”
“We have our house …” Maddie tried to think of all the considerations.
“You mentioned needing money. Renting it out would give you a nice income. Not to mention what you make in the shop.”
“I’ve told you, I don’t have the money to start a business.”
“Let me be your silent partner. Wagner Hill House has been a worry. I don’t want it rented by some cheesy tourist outfit or chain restaurant. And if the building sits empty too long, it won’t be good for the town.”
Overwhelmed, Maddie stared at him. “Just like that? Up and move? Start a business with no money?”
“Just like that,” he replied calmly. “What are your concerns?”
“Endless. My mother—”
“Would benefit from more interaction with people. That’s a medical opinion.”
She waved her hands in the air. “Fixing up the apartments.”
“I have friends in the contracting business. Next.”
“Renting out our house.”
“I have a friend in real estate.”
She plopped her hands on both hips. “Don’t tell me, you have a friend in tearooms, as well?”
His eyes softened a fraction. “I hope so.”
Her heart did a little two-step that dried her throat. “It’s so much to take in.”
“It’s trite, but every journey begins with a step. Think Sam might stand in for you while we take a look at the apartments?”
“I suppose, but—”
“Good. How about tomorrow morning?”
“Tomorrow?” she couldn’t keep the shock from her voice.
The smile she remembered was back on his face. “Unless you want to see them tonight?”
By morning, Maddie decided she was out of her mind. A sleepless night only confirmed the diagnosis. Now, a few hours later, Sam was perched on one of the kitchen chairs while Maddie turned on the electric kettle.
“I think it’s a great idea!” Sam nibbled on a cookie. “I hope you plan to stock these. I could eat a dozen by myself.”
Maddie rubbed her forehead, wondering why she’d given in to J.C.’s suggestion to phone Sam and set up the late-morning meeting. “You’ve just put at least a dozen carts before the horse. The more I think about J.C.’s idea—”
“Then stop thinking. Maddie, he’s right. It’s a good solution for all of you. J.C. needs help. Chrissy needs some stability in her life. Your mother will blossom—you know how she loves company. And you …”
“Can’t finish that one, can you?”
“Actually I can, but you’re too prickly right now to lis ten.”
“Prickly?”
“You’re not a martyr. I know that. But you’re refusing to think beyond today. You’re cutting corners now. How many are left? Do you see the cost of living shrinking in the next decade? And even though we don’t want to think about it, Lillian’s medical expenses could rise significantly. A business could give you the means to make sure you can take care of her. And, stubborn friend, what’s wrong with you having some happiness? Pursuing your dream?”
Maddie swallowed. She’d purposely pushed their financial future to the corners of her thoughts, hoping that somehow it would work out. “And if the business is a big flop?”
Sam shook her head gently. “I doubt that’s possible. But if it did, we’d be here for you—your friends, your neighbors.”
Sighing Maddie plunked down into a chair across from her friend. “This is all going too fast. I barely know J.C.”
“That could change,” Sam suggested hopefully.
Maddie swallowed. That was about the scariest part of the whole venture.
J.C. was highly aware of Maddie’s reluctance. He’d all but dragged her from her house. Feeling like a used car salesman, he’d talked up the place during the short drive to Main Street. Now, he inserted the key in the lock. Unused since Jay’s death, the building seemed to echo with the loss. Jay’s employees had scattered. Some were old enough to retire, the rest had found other jobs when the company closed. Without Jay’s networking, the place would have crawled to a halt, so J.C. had chosen the only practical option.
Still, their footsteps rang in the emptiness.
“What happened to the equipment?” Maddie whispered.
“Sold it.” His voice seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet. Finding a multiple light switch, he flipped all the levers. Fluorescent lights glared overhead. Seeing Maddie wince, he turned all but one off. “You’d have to imagine it without the commercial additions.” He pointed toward the walls on the east side. “The original moldings are still in place. Jay updated the lighting and wiring for his business. But Wagner Hill House was built in the 1890s.”
Maddie glanced around uncertainly. “The wood floors are still good.” She stared upward at the ugly drop ceiling.
“The original’s still under those panels. Be easy to restore. Of course you have to look past the dust.”
Just then she sneezed.
“Way under the dust.”
“Seems more suited to a different sort of business.” She halted in front of a stack of boxes taller than she was. “Not really a tea shop sort of place.”
J.C. pointed to the original bay window that faced Main Street. “Picture it without the signs and printing displays. You could put up some kind of curtains, I imagine.”
“Hmm.” Maddie studied the large window. “European,” she murmured. “That’s the feel I always wanted. Plastered walls.”
Helpfully, he gestured toward the original plastered walls. “They’re still in good shape.”
“Maybe …”
“Plumbing’s good. You can reconfigure it however you want.”
Maddie frowned. “Sounds expensive.”
“That’s where your silent partner comes in.”
“I’d never be able to pay you back!”
“Look at it this way, Maddie. No matter who I rent to, I’m looking at renovations.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you sure?”
“Yep. And the improvements are a write-off. Just clearing the rest of the junk out of here will make a big difference. You’ll see.”
Pivoting, she studied the space. “It would, actually.”
“Let’s take a look at the apartments. The elevator’s in the back and there are two sets of stairs, one up front and one in the rear.”
Reaching the front stairway, Maddie smoothed her hand over the curved bannister. “Lovely woodwork. Don’t see this in modern buildings.”
Her eyes were dusky gray in the muted light. Despite the reluctance in them, he spotted a vulnerable flicker of hope. He wondered how her face would look lit up with another emotion, a more personal feeling.
“Something wrong?”
Shaking his head, he smiled. “Just thinking of possibilities.”
Upstairs, they entered the first apartment. Furniture shrouded in sheets were ghostly reminders of past occupants. J.C. opened long, heavy drapes that hid blurry windows. “Needs updating, of course.”
“And a good clean.” Maddie pulled a drop cover off the kitchen counter, revealing a beautiful dark green marble. “These are nice.”
“I know in general the whole building looks dismal—I haven’t spent any time here since Jay and Fran died. But Chrissy’s right. It doesn’t have the sad feeling their house does.”
“Once it’s cleared and cleaned, it will look a world better,” Maddie encouraged. “Any place that’s abandoned looks it.”
“Guess we can take turns encouraging each other,” he teased.
She grinned, then sobered. “True, but I don’t want you to feel you have to bail me out. I know our situation isn’t the best—”
“Agreed. Mine, either. Pooling our resources can fix that.” He shoved the drapes open as far as they would go. “Imagine once the windows are clean, the walls have a fresh coat of paint, the place won’t look so grim.”
“I don’t suffer from lack of imagination,” she confessed. “Just the opposite, I’m afraid. I can close my eyes and see the shop of my dreams. I can also see the price tag. You’re offering to be incredibly generous, but—”
“What? You’ll go on the same way until you run out of money? Chrissy will get sadder, more out of control?”
Concern colored her eyes and blue now tinted the gray. “You’re pushing my softie buttons.”
“Is it working?”
“You swear that helping Chrissy will actually offset the cost of renovating the building? Of setting up the business?”
He fashioned the fingers of his right hand into the Boy Scout pledge. “Yep.”
“I’ve always been a sucker for Boy Scouts.”
“Really?”
Maddie suddenly looked embarrassed. “They’re nice to old people.” She gripped the strap on her shoulder bag. “Well, since we’ve decided, I guess we’d better break the news to Chrissy and my mother.”
Apparently she didn’t want him to press her personal buttons. “Right. I’ll talk to Seth about the renovations. He can arrange for the cleanup, as well. I can talk to Paul Russell about leasing your house, if you want.”
“So we’re really doing this?” Worry pushed the blue from her eyes, rendering them the gray of clouds just beginning to darken.
“Yeah, we really are.”
Chapter Six
Maddie added another note to her growing list. It still didn’t seem real, but Paul Russell was already sending prospective tenants over to look at the house. His wife, Laura, had volunteered to come along and visit with Lillian whenever Paul showed the house. Maddie hated to depend on so many people, but the offer was helpful because she needed to make some measurements in both the new shop and apartment. Because of Chrissy, speed was imperative.
She’d told her mother about the plans, but like anything new that happened, Lillian couldn’t retain the information. However, as usual, she loved having company.
Laura held up the tea cozy Lillian was crocheting. “I love this yarn. It feels soft enough for a baby.”
Maddie mouthed thank you, then waved goodbye. With Laura chatting to her mother, Maddie hopped in her car and sped to Main Street. Ever since she’d agreed to the arrangement, a seed of excitement had begun blossoming. As she pulled into one of the diagonal spots out front, she saw window washers set up to clean the second-story windows. J.C. wasn’t wasting a minute.
The bay window had already been scrubbed, all the old lettering removed, as well. Gleaming in the noonday sun, the glass practically winked an invitation. And she realized that the neglected limestone had been power washed, as well. Suddenly it was easy to imagine her shop, with its wide awning, pots of flowers and bistro tables out front.
Unwilling to build her hopes too high, she hesitantly opened the front door. The clutter was gone and workmen were pulling down the ugly ceiling panels. More dust and debris were being generated, but in a good way. The newly cleaned window allowed the light to pour inside, illuminating every nook and corner.
The kitchen should be in the back, centered so it had easy access, she decided. And shelves of tea blends should be off to the right so the inside tables could be placed front and center, beckoning guests to linger.
Dust motes floated through the sharp sunbeams, enticing her to spin slowly around in the near-empty room. The workers’ voices faded as she imagined customers sharing the latest news, laughing as the tea worked its magic, carrying away the stress of the day.
As she revolved back to where she’d begun, she met J.C.’s gaze.
How had he come to be there? she wondered. She hadn’t heard his footsteps. Lost in her thoughts, she’d forgotten she was smack dab center in the work area. Trying to recover some of her aplomb, she gestured toward the rear. “Just thinking about how everything should be laid out.”
“Must have been good thoughts,” he replied, the flecks in his brown eyes seeming to sweep right through her.
“Place is shaping up,” she blurted. “The window—” pausing, she pointed to the bay window as though he might have missed it “—looks great. I can picture the awning, the tables out front.”
“Just stopped by to see how it’s coming. Seth says the bones are so good that it won’t take long to fix things up. Have you talked to him about what you want?”
Want? She never thought about what she wanted. It occurred to her that since J.C. had come into her life, the possibility had flirted with her good sense. Was it somehow possible? Could what she wanted somehow be able to happen?
“The plans,” J.C. reminded her. “I told Seth you choose the design, the materials, whatever you want. The shop and the apartments.”
“Yes, the plans.” She landed back on earth with a mental thud loud enough to shake away her wanderings.
“Do you know Seth McAllister? The contractor?”
“I don’t think so. The name’s familiar …” Glancing up toward the second story, she tried to shake off the distraction J.C. caused. “I haven’t thought too much about the apartments, mostly just the shop so far.”
“Seth says the plumbing and electric are all in good shape. As you saw, the kitchens and bathrooms in the apartments are, shall we say, quaint?”
She grinned. “I’m used to quaint. Oh, about Chrissy’s bedroom—how about letting her have a big say in the decorating?”
J.C. shrugged. “Fine with me. I know even less about decorating girls’ bedrooms than raising them.”
“Her favorite color’s purple. A soft lavender would really freshen her space.”
“You can paint the whole thing purple,” he agreed.
Looking into his eyes she sensed he wasn’t thinking one bit about color. “I might just do that.”
“Okay.”
He definitely had something else on his mind. “Something going on?”
J.C. hesitated, which he seldom did.
“There you are!” a man called out. “I’ve had more luck chasing down prairie dogs.”
J.C. turned around. “Seth. You need to meet Maddie, she’s the one who’ll be calling the shots.”
“Not really—” she began, shaking the stranger’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I just stopped by to take some measurements.”
“Have time to look at the preliminary plans?” Seth carried tall cylinder rolls of paper in his hands. “I have a few configurations, but everything’s changeable at this stage.”
J.C. cupped her elbow and she swallowed at her unexpected reaction.
“That’s Maddie’s cue,” he was saying. “All I care about is having two bedrooms in my apartment so I don’t have to sleep in the living room. My spine’s close to being permanently bent in the shape of a sofa.”
J.C. took his hand away and imme
diately she felt disappointed.
“I’d better get back to the office,” J.C. explained. “Got a full roster waiting.”
Seth nodded in his direction, then turned to Maddie. “So,” Seth began, “I hear we’re going to build a tearoom and shop.”
She pulled her gaze away from J.C.’s retreating back. “Yes …” Her voice was hoarse so she cleared her throat.
“J.C. told me about the general idea, but I imagine you’re the one with the specifics.” He chuckled. “My wife, Emma, always has the specifics.”
Despite the storm of issues clouding her mind, the name penetrated. “Emma? Emma McAllister?”
“The very same.”
“She owns the costume shop! My mother and I volunteered one year to make costumes for a school play.” It had been the last year Lillian could concentrate long enough to complete even a small portion of a project. Maddie had assembled all the costumes in the final stage, but her mother had enjoyed prepping sleeves and tunics.
“Emma’s assistant manager runs the shop now. Our kids keep Emma pretty busy these days.”
“Of course.” Other lives moved on, changed. Her own had been static so long that she often forgot that things were no longer the same for everyone else.
Seth placed a plank over two sawhorses to create a desklike area to spread the plans on. “These are computergenerated, so feel free to scribble away.” He handed her a drafting pencil.
For a few moments she studied what he’d designed. “Is this a counter?”
“I’m thinking marble. Not big enough to compete with the old one at the drugstore.” Rosewood’s drugstore still held the original marble fountain from the last of the nineteenth century. The ice-cream creations produced at the area’s oldest operating soda fountain lured people from the entire state.
“Hmm. I do want an old-world look for the shop. Maybe Carrera marble?”
He agreed and she went on to explain the custom shelving she wanted to hold jars of loose tea blends and numerous accessories. She envisioned decorating with all the teapots she’d wanted to buy but never had room to store.
“I agree with the location for the kitchen,” Seth said as he penciled in a note. “Cutting-edge restaurants these days want to put the kitchen on display, but I didn’t think that would work in this setting.”
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