The Opposite of Never

by Mary Kathleen Mehuron

  “Margot has always been a challenge for you to handle.”

  In order to weigh the truth in her friend’s statement Georgia stopped. “Yes, she has. I’m not going to deny it. It was so much easier raising my boys. I put it off to the fact she was a girl, and people say girls are harder overall. I see things more clearly today. Part of it is the personality Margot was born with, but equally important is the dynamic Jack set up. How many times over the years have I complained that I wanted us to present a unified front as parents, but he undermined my authority with her? It made him feel good about himself to take her side, but I believe it was not the best thing for Margot. When I tried to talk to him about it, he told me I was paranoid, or—always his favorite descriptor—a psycho.” She was so angry her lips twitched. She pressed them together trying to make them stop moving.

  “He acted like he was the only one in the world who really understood her. It was infuriating the way he indulged Margot by buying her things. Sometimes, I felt sorry for the boys; he reduced them to second-class citizens. Don’t get me wrong, he loved his sons, but Jack made us two separate camps. It was he and Margot against the boys and me. I am so angry with him right now and annoyed with myself that I didn’t put a stop to it. Am I overreacting? Linda, please give me your opinion. You’ve known the kids all their lives.”

  Linda let out a whistle. “Analyzing someone else’s family is a difficult ground to navigate. I could easily misspeak and say something that would hurt your feelings instead of making you feel better. But if you really want me to give you feedback, I’ll try. What specifically do you want to know?”

  “Please Linda. Just answer this—have you ever thought it a bit too much? How close Jack and Margot were?”

  Linda stood silent for three heartbeats before she spoke. “I’ve never thought he was inappropriate, if you know what I mean. Never, and as a family practitioner I’m trained to notice such things. I do remember having a realization at one of Yvonne and Rolland’s Christmas parties, though. Margot was at least twenty-one because she was having a glass of wine. The two of them were standing in a corner together with their drinks. You could tell they were looking around the room and commenting on everyone and everything. At one point, I looked up, Margot was staring at me, and then she whispered something in Jack’s ear. He burst out laughing. I actually felt the heat rush to my face like I was back in junior high school with a mean girl picking on me. Georgia, have I gone too far? Are you really sure you want me to go on?”

  Georgia was flooded with both relief and gratitude. “Yes, I do. It’s brave of you to tell me the truth.”

  “I don’t want to cause you pain. You’ve had enough already.”

  “Please tell me.”

  “All right.” Linda spoke carefully, “Well, I remember I found myself often thinking you were frustrated by how quiet Jack was at home. I’ve witnessed it myself. When we all went out to dinner, you always worked hard to draw him into the conversation. I admired that about you because it couldn’t have been fun. It was like a job you carried into every social situation. You were always trying to make him comfortable, yet here before me was the same Jack with Margot talking away. They were laughing uproariously and it all flowed so easily. I found it distasteful because . . . Georgia, are you sure?”

  “I need to hear this, Linda. It will give me perspective. Something to use as a benchmark if I should second-guess myself in the future.”

  “Then stop for a minute and hold my hand.” They stood close to each other in a tiny clearing. The rising sun was warming every fragrant plant in the forest. Even in the few minutes Georgia waited for Linda to gather her thoughts and continue, the fragrance magnified, as did the heat of the day. Hazy beams shot through the almost blue trees.

  Linda met Georgia’s eyes with gentle certainty, “I found myself thinking it should have been you standing in that corner with him and having a great time. It should have been you, Georgia. Although I don’t think you would have acted like a mean girl. I was so upset with Jack because he was encouraging Margot to behave badly, and he was ignoring you. I can remember thinking, ‘Georgia’s the most delightful person in this room, and she’s gorgeous, too. Why doesn’t he see it?’”

  When Georgia’s cell phone rang they both jumped . As she couldn’t remember which pocket she had stuck it into she fumbled. “Hello? Oh hi! Linda and I are hiking up at the park . . . Yes, it is supposed to be hot; that’s why we started out early. Okay . . . You think so? Um-hum. This is interesting . . . yes. I’ll call you when I get home, and we’ll figure it out. Bye . . . Talk to you later.”

  The women started to climb again.

  “That was Kenny. He is so good to me; he’s been doing research about home building. He says we really should consider looking at prefabricated houses because they’ve come a long way. I guess some of the companies have the same building specifications as regular construction, but they are much less expensive per square foot.”

  Linda noticed she used the word “we” but didn’t comment on it. Georgia went on, “Since it’s going to be so hot today, he offered to drive me around to the various companies and look at their model homes. He figured we’d spend most of the day in air conditioning, either in the car or at the businesses.”

  Linda knew her friend as well as anyone on earth and she wondered whether Georgia’s relationship with Kenny would become more than friendship.

  “Linda, you were right about the fog lifting.”

  By the time they reached the summit, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and Georgia’s mood had improved considerably. At the top, the women linked arms, enjoyed the view, and drank deeply from their water bottles as if they contained the nectar of the gods.

  Twenty-Five

  “We know before we really know.”

  —Mary Kathleen Mehuron

  After the hike, Georgia ate a sandwich, showered, cleared out the kitchen sink, moved a load of wash from the washer to the dryer, and finally called Kenny back.

  He said, “These prefabricated home companies have lots that are filled with sample houses. The closest one I have found is in DeGranit. Let’s start our research there. It’s just outside of town on Route 10.”

  They were disappointed because the single and doublewide trailers they found didn’t appeal to either of them. Robin Hood Homes carried structures that looked like many corners had been cut in the making of them. As they strolled around the lot, Georgia told Kenny in a private moment, “They look all right now, but I don’t think they would stand the test of time, let alone survive a good stiff wind. What gives away the cheap construction to me is the shallow slope of the roofs and the poor quality of the siding. They have no overhanging eaves either—which can’t be good for any building. The doors and windows are labeled with a major manufacturer’s sticker, but it’s obvious that they’re of an inferior grade.”

  Georgia asked the salesman who approached them, “Why don’t any of these places have screen doors?” This was important to her because in good weather she kept her front and back door wide open.

  His answer was telling. “You can’t hang a screen door on our homes; the exterior walls aren’t thick enough.”

  After politely listening to the sales pitch in the cool office (Kenny had been prophetic about the air conditioning), they excused themselves and left.

  The next stop was an hour north at a building outfit called Dean’s that was in the Kingdom County town of Willowsville. Georgia didn’t mention to Kenny they were only fifteen minutes away from the children’s camp or that they would soon close on its sale. In fact, she tried hard not to think about it.

  One of the biggest industries in the Northeast Kingdom was logging, and the founder of this company, Tom Dean, had ready access to lumber at the cheapest possible prices. He had also figured out that building with an assembly-line business model would be far less expensive than traditional methods of construction. The Kingdom was the land of the haves and the have-nots. It was filled with peop
le doing their best to get by and also families who owned second homes for vacation. Favorite pastimes among the wealthier homeowners included hunting, skiing, water sports, and exploring miles of snowmobile trails that doubled for cross country skiing and snowshoeing.

  Neither of the two groups, well-to-do or poor, wanted to spend an exorbitant amount on a cottage or camp, but they still wanted picturesque dwellings. While the manufactured home lot in DeGranit was a little depressing, this one elicited enthusiastic comments like, “That house is adorable” and “Oh! Look at the little one in back.” It was immediately clear to them that Dean’s was producing a high-quality product. When Georgia and Kenny pulled into the parking lot, they got a hopeful second wind.

  A salesman named David told them all about the corporation and its history. They were given a short tour through the warehouse-sized factory and even met several of the carpenters and other tradespeople. Besides cheap lumber, the company bought materials like flooring and appliances in bulk, and this also kept costs down. They had thirty stock floor plans, but David stressed that the company could build any style of house she wanted.

  After asking Georgia a number of questions, he suggested to her that it would be worth looking at homes on the lot first, “If any of them work for you, you will save a lot of money. Sometimes we have to make room for new models and we only have so much space. That’s when the prices get slashed.”

  Georgia said, “I saw a gray-and-white Cape Cod; can we start there?” Their entry point, as would be expected, was the front door. Mounted on it was a forest green, hand-crafted screen door complete with carved out loon silhouettes that were echoed on the wooden window shutters. When they walked through it into the front hallway, Georgia and Kenny were flabbergasted. Polished wood gleamed on the floors and on the stairs that led to a huge, gallery-style loft. Its opening to the floor below was outlined with a twig-style wood railing.

  David took in their impressed expressions and confided, “This is the most expensive house we have on the lot, but let me point out all the features as we go through, and you’ll see why. The couple that ordered this home died when they crashed their light plane in Pennsylvania last year. A terrible tragedy. This was to be their second home, here on Lake Willoughby. We could have gone after their estate for the money, I suppose, but that seemed cruel when the family was already suffering from the unexpected deaths. Who knew how long it would take to collect? Or if we ever could?

  “They wanted the convenience of having a house as they said, ‘drop from the sky completely finished,’ but they wouldn’t skimp on quality. The family had been coming up to vacation in the Kingdom for twenty years. They already knew a number of our local woodworkers, tradespeople, and artists. They had a clear idea of what they could accomplish by working with us, and they were the most demanding customers I’ve ever encountered. Frankly, they drove us a little crazy because they were both so detail-oriented.

  “They didn’t miss a thing and came by often to check on the progress of the building. The wife caught a small mistake that surprised everyone. We had built the kitchen island three inches shorter than they specified. Of course, we ripped it out and redid it according to the original plan. All for three inches? The two of them raised holy hell.

  “Dean’s finished the home almost exactly a year ago. It’s not good for a building to sit empty. It’s premium construction, but the longer it’s on this lot not lived in, we believe the faster it will depreciate. The boss says to move it. He is more than willing to accept any reasonable offer.”

  Kenny listened carefully to every word David said, but Georgia seemed to have gone into a trance. She was transfixed by the interior of the home with its cherry floors, cabinets, and doors. At one point, she came out of it and interrupted the salesman as he was speaking to Kenny. “Excuse me. I’m so sorry. I have to know about the lumber used, this cherry wood is extraordinary.”

  “Yes, you’re right, you have a good eye. It was all cut and milled locally.”

  With that, Georgia left them to continue their conversation as she wandered from room to room, feeling the hefty weight of the doors as she pulled on their cast iron finger latches. Many of the historic farmhouses in New England had this style of door, and even the closets were made with the same design, which were tongue and groove wood slats that fit together. A blacksmith must have forged the cast iron decorative pieces, she thought. I never saw anything like them in a home center or hardware store. Georgia knew that the pieces that anchored each door were called strapping hinges because she had seen them in antique shops over the years. To add to the impact of the superb craftsmanship, two carved loons were embossed at the top of every framed opening. It gave her a sudden chill, and her mind raced. This had to be serendipity. Fate. Providence. This was Double Loon Lodge.

  She was on the second story and called over the balcony to the foyer below where Kenny and the salesman still stood. “Excuse me. I am so sorry to be rude. Again. David, could you give Kenny and me fifteen minutes to walk through alone? Please? I need some time with him. Would you be willing to come back and give us the tour then?”

  “Of course. It’s not an unusual request. Couples need to talk things over.”

  “Thank you for understanding, David. Kenny, I’m coming down there.”

  The foyer soared up two stories and, built in under the stairs, was a coat closet. Above its hinged door were two deep shelves cut by the diagonal adjacent to the angle of the risers. Georgia could imagine exactly what she would put in those spaces, which were perfect for display.

  Directly behind the stairway, a clearly antique, hand-hewn barn beam defined the entrance to the kitchen. It made a dramatic architectural statement. Georgia took Kenny’s arm and headed toward the room that is widely considered the heart of any home. There they discovered that in the back of the house to their left was a half-bath with a laundry area, a walk-in pantry, and a kitchen that took her breath away. The dining space was to the right as they entered and it included a fieldstone fireplace with an obviously custom-made mantel from another rough-hewn beam surrounded with cherry panels.

  “Kenny, all my dining room furniture will fit perfectly in here,” Georgia said dreamily. She was mesmerized as she pictured each piece of furniture and how she would arrange it. When she finally looked in his direction, it seemed Kenny had disappeared. Perplexed, she scanned the room looking for him. “Hey, where did you go?” His response to her was muffled.

  “I’m very impressed with the plumbing.” Kenny was lying on his back on the floor with his head and shoulders inside the left half of the double cabinet under the sink. He talked up toward her although they couldn’t see each other’s faces. Georgia walked over and knelt down next to him, where she peered in the right-hand side door on the other side of the cabinet. She listened as Kenny explained to her, “There are building codes required as a minimum standard, and then there is the way to do a job right. This is impressive work from the tradesmen. First rate. Do you see how they vented this pipe?”

  Georgia peeked in, trying to make out the plumbing that Kenny was admiring, but her knees began to hurt, and she was forced to stand up. While she waited for him, she opened every other kitchen cabinet and looked inside. The interiors were nearly as well constructed as the facades.

  After careful inspection, something struck her. “Kenny, the interiors aren’t plywood, they’re maple. And, if I’m not mistaken, every shelf is dipped in epoxy. These cabinets will last a lifetime, and then some.”

  He slid out from his inspection site and jumped to his feet with excitement. “Let me see that.” The two of them stood together thrilled by the quality of the cabinets, and Kenny drew a conclusion based on the plumbing and the finish carpentry, “So, these people saved money by using the factory’s cheaper construction methods, but then they put that money into the ornamental work and mechanicals. Georgia, let’s keep a cool head. We’re both excited about all this, but we still have to negotiate with this guy.”

 
They went back into the entry area where Georgia giggled and then said, “Okay. Deep breaths. Let’s take some deep breaths.” She collapsed against Kenny’s shoulder in laughter.

  As they faced the front door, they noticed there was a bedroom to their right at the bottom of the stairs. The living room occupied the left side, and it turned out that both rooms had tall, hinged windows that would overlook Millhouse Pond. Georgia gasped, “Kenny! These windows at the front of the house have European hardware! They’re tilt and turns. You can tilt the top open to vent air or fully open the hinged pane. Oh, I think I may cry.”

  They were delighted to discover that the living room had a second fireplace surrounded by three hutches that filled the entire wall. Two identical smaller pieces flanked a wider one on either side. The middle had been designed to accommodate a flat-screen television above the fireplace.

  “Georgia, you can put your U-shaped couches right here. It’s what you described to me when we were brainstorming. It’s like they read your mind.”

  She stood spellbound as she looked in the master bedroom, and when it turned out what would be Georgia’s bathroom had a claw foot tub, there was no longer any question in her mind. As she ran her hand around the cool white porcelain of the bath she told Kenny, “I have to have this place. I don’t care what it takes to do it.”

  Kenny was dying of curiosity about the loft upstairs. She continued to caress the bathtub until he took her hand and dragged her away and up the stairs laughing. He found that the area was divided by walls into front and back chambers that were adjoined by a walkway. Next to the stairwell was a three-quarter bath with a door at each end so it could be accessed by either of the two rooms. At once, Georgia decided she would make the front area her office, as it would look out over the water, and the back could be a nice quiet guest room.