She laughed. “I like to cut the crusts off my sandwiches in private.”
“And J.C. said you want to keep the original walls.”
Nodding, she walked closer to see them in the sunlight, running her hand over the ageless plaster. “After they’re painted, I want to apply a glaze. That won’t take too long, will it?”
“Nope. Won’t change our target completion date. I know how important it is to get the place renovated as soon as possible. Wouldn’t want to leave my kids alone at night, either.” Seth glanced again at the plans, making another note. “Place should look good. Emma can’t wait to visit once you’re up and running. Of course she’ll have to drag the kids along.”
“Kids?” Maddie mused, her thoughts whirling.
“Yep. They’re her appendages.”
Like most young women. “Seth, do you think we could work in a spot that would accommodate a few small tables—kid-size? Mothers would probably enjoy the convenience.” Her mind flew into hyper-speed. “And maybe even little tea parties for birthdays. If we could fit it close to the corner for my mother, she’d love it. She adores children and they take to her.”
Seth scribbled a few notes on the plans. “Don’t see why not. Thinking of any built-ins for that area?”
Maddie rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know yet.”
“I’ll work up another set of plans with the additions. Before the final decisions, we have plenty of demolition left to do. With the exception of plumbing and wiring, some things can be decided along the way.”
Relieved, she exhaled. “That’s good to hear. My mind’s pretty full.”
“Imagine so. What with setting up a business, moving, it’s a lot to take on.” His kindly gaze was calming.
“Thanks for understanding.” She sensed it would be easy to work with Seth, which would ease some of her worry. Glancing at the now-vacant space where J.C. had stood, Maddie also sensed some of the anxiety was only going to increase.
“Are we really going to move to Dad’s building?” Chrissy persisted.
She had asked the same question dozens of times since he’d told her about his plan. J.C. glanced up from the notes he was typing on his laptop. “I know I haven’t done that great a job so far, but I’ve never lied to you.”
“I didn’t mean that.” Chrissy picked at her light brown hair. “It’s just that …”
She hadn’t been able to count on anything since her parents’ deaths. “Seth is working as fast as possible. We can stop by and see the progress if you like.”
Chrissy tipped her head, considering. “Nah. That’s okay. I kinda think I’d like to see it all fixed up.” She didn’t look completely convinced.
“What is it?”
“How come Maddie’s going to move there? I mean, she’s not family or anything.”
Oh, she was definitely something. “I explained to you about how she’s wanted to open a tea shop and that she and her mother need help.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
Chrissy shrugged. “Mrs. Lillian’s pretty cool.”
J.C. pulled his gaze from the computer. “This move will be good for her. With her type of dementia, interaction with people helps.”
She frowned.
“Having you around will help her,” he explained.
“She never tells me what to do.”
Lifting his eyebrows, he studied his niece. “We all have rules and boundaries we have to live by.”
She stuck out her lip.
“Your parents gave you rules.”
Chrissy’s lip wobbled, but her voice remained belligerent. “They were my parents.”
And that was the rub. Having a bachelor uncle as her only viable relative wasn’t helping. He and Chrissy had always gotten on well together. But that was when he was her fun uncle, not her full-time guardian. “Do I make you follow more rules than they did?”
She shrugged.
It would be the most he’d get out of her on the subject. She had resented every nanny, housekeeper and babysitter he had hired and her behavior had driven each one of them away. He had explained over and over again that they weren’t intended to replace her mother, but she refused to cooperate. “Chrissy, would you like to design your own room?”
Her brow scrunched in wary concentration. “What do you mean?”
“Maddie mentioned that she’d like your help in planning it.”
“What about Mrs. Lillian?”
“I imagine Maddie could bring her mother along to add her ideas.”
Chrissy studied him, then finally nodded. “I guess that’d be all right.”
J.C. hid a grin. His niece looked intrigued. Good. When she saw that it was real, maybe she could begin the journey back to who she had been. He’d had another call from the principal. Chrissy was close to failing two subjects. He hated to think how he was letting his sister down.
True to his word, Seth and his crew were making great strides with the renovation. At J.C.’s request, Maddie and her mother had picked up Chrissy from school and taken her with them to Wagner Hill House. The girl waited while Maddie unloaded Lillian’s wheelchair and got her settled into it. Together, they entered through the tall front door.
“Wow,” Chrissy murmured as she took in all the changes on the first floor. She clutched her pink backpack tight.
Even though she was not a child and hadn’t lost both parents, Maddie clearly remembered the loss of her own father. The feeling reinforced how all-consuming Chrissy’s loss had been. She stopped beside the child. “It’s pretty different. What do you think?”
Craning her head to look up, Chrissy tried to take in all the changes. “The ceiling looks kinda good.”
“I think so, too,” Lillian chimed in. “How did it look before?”
While Maddie explained, Chrissy strolled around the converted space, finally coming back to stand beside Lillian.
“The machines are all gone,” Chrissy said in a small voice.
“Of course,” Lillian replied. “Maddie doesn’t need machines to make tea.”
Maddie watched Chrissy, hoping the child wasn’t too overwhelmed. “Do you think your parents would like the changes?”
Chrissy shrugged. In the same small voice, she replied, “Maybe my mom.”
“Everyone should enjoy tea,” Lillian responded. “But it’s usually women you’ll find in a tearoom.”
“Hopefully, because I’m selling loose tea blends, we’ll get a few male customers, as well.” Sensing the apartments would be less emotional for Chrissy, Maddie led them over to the elevator. “This is sure going to come in handy.”
“My grandma used the elevator,” Chrissy volunteered. “But that was a long time ago.”
It was an unlucky stroke of fate that had also left Chrissy without grandparents.
“Would you like to push the button?” Maddie asked. “I haven’t used this elevator yet.”
Obligingly Chrissy pushed the button going up.
Maddie noticed a button marked B. “Does this actually go down to the basement?”
“Uh-huh. There’s not much down there, though.”
“Probably the furnace,” Maddie mused.
On J.C.’s instructions, the apartments had been cleared. Although there was still some familiarity to her grandparents’ place, J.C. had worried that it, too, contained memories of people Chrissy loved. He wanted a fresh start. Seth had suggested that after rebuilding the kitchens and bathrooms, they keep the original oak floors in the living, dining and bedroom areas. The other rooms were all in good shape, needing only a fresh coat of paint.
The main entry doors to both apartments were propped open, as well as the back ones that led out from the kitchens. Maddie followed as Chrissy walked into the apartment that had been her grandparents’.
“It looks so different.” Her voice was still quiet but held a note of surprised interest.
“The kitchen and bathrooms will be all new.” Maddie leaned down next to her mother. “W
e’ll have a wheel-in shower in your bathroom. There’s so much space, we each get our own private bathroom.” One of the advantages of the old building, the apartments were generous in size. Seth confirmed that adding extra bathrooms would also add value to the property. “Oh, and Mom, the doorways will all be widened.”
Chrissy looked back at Lillian. “That’s good.”
Maddie smiled, seeing the kindness J.C. had always insisted the child possessed. She had sensed the quality was there, but it was heartening to see her old traits reemerging.
“We don’t need anything fancy,” Lillian began. “But it never hurts to shake things up.”
Unexpectedly Chrissy giggled.
Lillian had broken the tension in a way Maddie couldn’t have managed.
“You’re right, Mom. I’m excited about having a new kitchen.”
“Imagine what you can brew up, then,” Lillian replied tartly. “Maybe even some magic.”
“Magic?” Maddie chuckled deprecatingly. Her mother meant romance. Not much chance.
Lillian wheeled her chair toward the large front window. Reaching the sill, she glanced out. “We’ll be right in the center of the action.”
Chrissy giggled again, lingering beside Lillian, relaxing.
Maddie noticed buckets and wall cleaner sitting in one corner. Glancing upward, she saw what looked like smoke stains on the ceiling. Unless there’d been a fire … She looked closer at the wall. The finish was smooth, unlike the other plaster walls. As she tapped lightly, the sound went from solid to hollow. Intrigued, she wondered what laid beneath the surface.
Lillian and Chrissy headed toward the first bedroom. Reluctantly, Maddie left the discovery behind.
“Is this going to be my bedroom?” Chrissy asked, crossing over to the window seat.
“Your uncle said for you to choose.”
“This one,” she decided, scooting deeper into the window nook.
“Good choice,” Lillian declared. “Nothing like a window seat to read a good book.”
“Or to dream in,” Maddie added quietly.
Chrissy’s gaze darted toward hers, a flash of understanding in her eyes.
Maddie smiled, but Chrissy turned away, her defenses back up.
Not taking it personally, Maddie glanced around the room. “Tell me again what your favorite colors are.”
“I used to like pink,” Chrissy replied.
Maddie hid her smile. Nine years old and trying to be twice her age. “Me, too. Do you remember telling me that you like purple?”
“I guess.”
Maddie had gone to the hardware store for color chip samples and she pulled one from her pocket. “What do you think of these shades?”
Chrissy glanced over. Then, drawn by the sample card, inched closer. Finally she pointed to one of the colors at the top of the card. “That one’s okay.”
“With crisp white trim?”
“I guess.”
“She’ll need curtains,” Lillian inserted as she dug in her purse. “And a new bedspread.”
“And furniture,” Maddie added.
Chrissy’s determinedly sullen expression vanished. “I get new furniture?”
“Your uncle wants you to pick all new things.”
Lillian beamed, offering a butterscotch Life Saver to Chrissy. “Aren’t you a lucky girl?”
Maddie winced inwardly at her choice of words, but Chrissy didn’t seem to mind. “All new?”
“That’s what he said.”
Slowly Chrissy twirled in the center of the room, Lillian watching in delight.
Maddie met her mother’s gaze. It was probably her imagination, but it seemed as though she glimpsed a bit of the past in Lillian’s nostalgic gaze. Maybe, just maybe, J.C. was right. This move might be good for her mother. Sending a silent prayer toward heaven, she held the hope close.
Chapter Seven
A month later, Maddie stood in front of her new shop watching as the awning was being installed. The Edwardian building suited the furnishings and accoutrements she’d chosen. As the fabric of the awning unfurled, her eyes swept over the exquisite lettering: Tea Cart.
Perfect.
Inside, she had envisioned elegant, delicate, inviting. Hoping to achieve that look, she’d brought many of the furnishings from home. The collection of family antiques that she and Lillian had simply considered furniture mixed with new pieces. With Chrissy’s agreement, she’d brought a small table to sit beside the front door. It would hold menus and mints.
A van pulled into one of the parking places on the street. Maddie turned, recognizing Samantha’s business van, Conway’s Nursery. Sam climbed out of the driver’s seat, then headed toward the rear of the van.
Curious, Maddie followed.
Sam propped open one of the rear doors, then reached inside. As Maddie watched, Sam pulled out a charmingly weathered terra-cotta pot filled with what appeared to be a miniature Christmas tree.
“Dwarf Alberta spruce,” Sam explained, touching the soft grass-green needles. “It’ll look like this year-round. No dead-brown in the winter.”
“Sam, it’s gorgeous, but I didn’t buy—”
“Housewarming present,” Sam replied briskly. “And you can refuse until you’re hoarse, but it won’t do you any good.”
Knowing her friend meant business, Maddie gave in gracefully. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”
Sam plopped the container in Maddie’s hands. “By the door, I think.”
Maddie decided her friend was right. The dwarf spruce looked perfect by the door. She turned to say so and noticed that Sam hadn’t emerged from behind the van. “Sam?” Not getting an answer, she returned to see that her friend had the other rear door propped open, as well.
Sam held a matching container. “For the other side of the door.”
“But—”
“So this doesn’t take all day, look inside.”
Cautiously Maddie peered into the van. The floor was filled with all sorts of container plants. “And?”
“They’re for you.”
“I really can’t—”
“You never let us help you as much as we’d like with Lillian. I know you think Bret and I can’t spare the time, or should use it to be with each other, but we’d like to help, really help.”
Wordless, Maddie stared at her friend.
“So, you going to help me get them positioned?”
“I—” A rush of emotion choked her throat.
Sam took the opportunity to plop the second container in her hands. “The other side of the door.”
While Maddie carried the matching spruce to the door, Sam pulled several other containers forward. “Just grab what’s next,” she instructed, carrying a hanging wire basket filled with overflowing gardenias and jasmine. Despite her cane, she managed almost effortlessly. “I want to set things out before we hang these, see if how I designed it works as well as it did on paper.”
Maddie moved the remainder of the potted evergreens from the van, marveling at each species, loving the way they were coming together.
“Koreana. Also known as Korean boxwood, although the chain nurseries don’t always label boxwood correctly. The California Korean boxwood is a completely different animal, so to speak.” Sam traced her fingers over one of the glossy dark leaves. “You said you wanted a European look, so I tried for something between an English cottage garden and an Italian terrace.” The boxwood spilled over the pot, draping over the aged terra-cotta to touch the brick pavement.
Maddie frowned. “I don’t remember ever seeing anything like these at your nursery.” Conway’s specialized in native species.
“Computer and a phone—a person can order most anything these days. The flowers are all local, if that makes you feel better.”
Maddie grinned. “I’m not the one committed to conserving our corner of Texas, as you and Bret phrase it.”
Sam muttered something under her breath as she repositioned the white cedar. The delicately textured bluish-gr
een foliage was a breathtaking contrast to the boxwood. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and grab a ladder. I need to position the climbing ivy. Once we get it attached, I don’t want to have to move it.”
“Aye, aye.” Maddie knew exactly where the stepladder was because she’d used it constantly over the past few weeks to stock her shop. Taking the ladder outside, she set it up quickly. “This thing’s become another appendage.” She loved the look of the scaled-down Christmas trees. “How tall do these get?”
Sam turned to the four-foot plants. “These are fairly mature shrubs. Takes thirty-five years for them to grow to seven feet.”
“Wow. Individually the plants are great. All together, they’re gorgeous. I had planned to add plants at some point, but I wouldn’t have known how to design anything like this.”
“That’s why I’m the botanist,” Sam replied with a cheeky grin. “How much longer until your grand opening?”
“I’m not sure. We’re concentrating on the apartments first so we can get Chrissy settled. Mom and I have a tenant for the house and we’ve been packing for the last month. A lot will go into storage, which is fine. And I cherry-picked the antiques I want to use in the shop. It’s all still hard to believe.”
Samantha’s smile softened. “It is, isn’t it?”
“What are you doing?” a loud male voice intruded.
Startled, both women turned to stare at Owen Radley, Maddie’s former fiancé.
“I asked what you’re doing,” Owen demanded, his thick body bristling.
Maddie squinted, then shook her head, feeling she needed to clear her vision or her mind, maybe both. He had cropped his blond hair so short, his scowling face looked rounder than she remembered. The years hadn’t been especially kind. She didn’t remember the deep creases beside his thick lips, or the lines around his pale blue eyes. “What?”
“That’s what I asked you.” There was nothing soft in his face or voice. When he was younger, Owen had been sensitive. Apparently, after years of being in the business world, he had abandoned any such notions. A small part of her mourned its passing. “Well?” he insisted.
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