Chapter 3
Mattie opened the loose, creaking gate, careful not to break it off, and proceeded ahead of them. At the front door, she fumbled a bit with the key before getting it open.
She and Shana remained at the bottom of the six steps leading up to the front porch of the narrow, mostly yellow, Victorian-style, three-storey house. The porch had a small gable roof over it. The living room, and the bedroom above it, both had bay windows. There were touches of green and blue gingerbread trim on the porch and around the bay windows.
Shana pointed to the basement window facing front. “I hope we don’t find any bodies hacked up down there.”
Joan glanced at the window and shivered.
Mattie called down, “Come on, you two, let’s have a look.”
They went up the stairs together.
Shana took out the ear buds and put away her smartphone. “Not much of a house compared to the one we left behind.”
Joan flushed again and muttered a curse. Shana had that natural gift of meaning much more than she’d just said when she wanted to, particularly when she was being snide.
Mattie let them get to the porch before opening the door with a grand gesture and stepping aside to let them go in first.
Immediately inside the door, an opening on the right led to the living and dining area. An open pocket door from there led to the kitchen. A set of L-shaped stairs to their left ascended from the front and offered a door to the basement at its other end. The bathroom came at the end of the stairway. There was a closet against the stairway wall and two more where the wall of the bathroom formed a passage about three feet wide with the dining room wall.
Shana noticed what she was looking at. “I think we need an exit from the dining area about there.”
She pointed past the bathroom. “We get a nook and a dining room. That’s a bit of a surprise for a house like this.”
Mattie said, “It was actually quite a unique home in its day, larger than similar designs in this neighborhood. You’ll notice the chair rail throughout and some really nice egg and dart crown molding work on both floors.”
“It’s still puny, though.” Shana looked back and forth between front and rear doors. “Good fortune in the front door and out the back. I don’t think there were any offers from Chinese members of the community.”
“That’s true,” Mattie said as she came in behind them. She left the door open. “You wouldn’t believe some of the superstitions I’ve encountered selling houses: the number of steps must be just right, the sellers can’t be divorcing, can’t have someone die in the house, can’t have any windows open in the house when you move in, must have at least one window open when you move in. I’ve dealt with superstitions from Chinese, Japanese, Italians, Mexicans and Americans.”
Shana said, “I thought we were all Americans.”
“You’re right; a bad choice of words on my part. And I’d be the first to say that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs.” Mattie stepped into the living-dining area. “With the three floors, you have a total of twenty-eight hundred and eighty-two square feet.”
“An unlucky number, I’m sure; too symmetrical,” Shana said as she came into the room. “Portland had a good number.”
Joan gave Mattie a welcome-to-my-world smile.
“We should check the foundation first thing,” Shana said and headed for the kitchen. She closed the pocket door to reveal a stained-glass center. A moment later, footsteps raced down the stairs to the basement.
Mattie said, “She seems to be warming up to the place.”
“We were always doing work where we lived. You couldn’t get her away from Michael’s side. She’d be his gopher, then his cutter and then she was right there with us, tearing out, measuring, hammering, building, painting, planning everything. She was never happier than when she and. . . .”
“I’m so sorry, Joanie. I meant to offer my condolences about Michael, about your FBI . . . experience, but we were just too busy with getting you your new job. How long was he in the coma before . . . ?”
“Three months. We better catch up or she’ll start tearing things apart before we can stop her.”
On the way down the stairs, Mattie asked, “How many stitches?”
“Eight.”
“It’s hardly noticeable.”
“Thanks for noticing.” The scar on her right cheek was a two-inch long, thin, shallow indent now.
They found Shana inspecting the concrete foundation below the living-dining area. She had brought out her own penlight and would first stand back to get a panoramic view of one section of wall before getting closer to inspect anything she had concerns about.
Joan could see nothing that looked like danger or a threat.
“It looks pretty good,” Shana said. “There are some small cracks in the floor, but nothing that we can’t keep an eye on or repair right away. The vertical sections are solid.” She stood back up, turned off her flashlight and came over to them. “There are no signs of ants or leaks and no mold.” She took a deep breath. “It’s stale in here, but there are no bad smells that we need to investigate. A few open windows,” she glanced at Mattie, “will bring in some fresh air but no misfortune.” She pointed behind her. “There are three new mouse traps over by the furnace, which is toast, so we’ll need to get a new high-efficiency one and that will be a big hit money-wise, but no droppings that I could find and none of the traps have been sprung.” She looked straight at Mattie. A 6’1” goddess could intimidate a lot of people even if she was only fourteen.
Mattie stammered a bit. “Oh, that. I always set traps if the house has been sitting for a while. Those are the only ones I’ve set and they’ve been there for over a month.”
“Nothing on the other two floors?” Shana lifted her flashlight to shine it in Mattie’s eyes, but instead, moved off to the door leading to the back yard.
As Shana passed, Mattie said, “We did catch one up in the kitchen right after listing the house, but that’s all.” Mattie looked at Joan as if she had just escaped from a predator.
“That’s my baby,” she said and watched Shana struggle with the back door.
It gave with a loud creak and opened on her third yank. Shana checked the hinges and then the bottom of the door.
“We need to replace the whole jamb, but the door is good.” She closed it and headed back to the stairs.
Fighting a sudden rush of adrenaline when she lost sight of Shana, Joan took hold of Mattie’s blazer sleeve, quickly scanned the basement again and towed her up the stairs. She let Shana do the inspection, just making sure she didn’t miss what she wasn’t supposed to.
“I guess the market will be picking up now that Do-Dads and Karyon Research are coming.”
“It already has. I have two fulltime agents and two part-timers. But I may not be doing that much longer.”
“But Griffin Real Estate has been here since shortly after the dinosaurs went extinct.”
Mattie started to scowl before smiling and nodding. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“You also said you’d never go into the family business. I believe you told me you’d rather work in a brothel in Bombay than sell houses. You used Bombay for everything you didn’t like. I never knew what you had against that city.”
“I didn’t mean that Griffin Real Estate is closing, nothing like that. It’s just that I’m in the process of starting my own internet-based business. If it takes off, as I’m sure it will, I’ll leave the management of GRE to others.”
“What kind of business?”
“That’s a secret for now, for proprietary reasons.”
They had reached the upstairs. Shana was quick and efficient and returned to them at the top of the stairs as soon as she was finished.
She declared, “Structurally sound. From what we saw outside, it might only take some minor repairs and new paint. The window frames are good, but we could use new, high-e windows. The middle section of the bay window in the living room
is a goner, though. There must have been some problem with rain leaking in at one time. We’ll need to check the wall for rot, but the basement below it didn’t indicate any serious problems.”
“Good God,” Mattie said. “You could do this for a living.”
“I was going to . . . in Portland.” She pointed to the master bedroom at the back of the house. “You get a full bath and a decent closet. The main one has a small tub, but I think we can rearrange things to get a six-footer into it.” She looked at Mattie. “I do like a good soak from time to time.”
Joan chuckled. “From about noon time to bed time.”
“I think the big bedroom would look good in a light green. The crown moulding is white and would set off nicely against it.” The finagling had begun.
“You know I’m not a fan of green.”
“Then you take one of the other rooms.”
“Nice try. That one’s mine. And it’s going to be—”
“God, don’t say taupe. I’ll kill myself if you say taupe.”
“Light taupe.”
“The default color for every timid, middle-class, white American. My bedroom in Portland was much bigger.”
“That’s it, drive it in deep.”
“It was short notice,” Mattie said. “It’s all I could find for what you wanted to pay.”
Shana smiled down at Mattie, who appeared to cringe a bit. “Don’t worry, Auntie Mattie, we love it, right, mom?”
Mattie puckered her lips when she looked at Joan.
“You heard the lady.”
“I would say to go ahead with any renovations you have in mind. Closing the sale is just a formality.”
“Up here, we listen to Rhianna, The Decembers and Vampire Weekend, on the main floor, maybe some Bublé, Seal and a jazz diva compilation. In the basement, a mix of old rock and roll for you, Springsteen, AC/DC, some Queen and Seger; Green Day, and Zeppelin for me.”
Mattie was completely confused.
“We have to pick out our music playlists before we start any work.”
“Oh, I see. I’m partial to—”
Someone knocked at the front door, which had swung closed. They all went down. Mattie opened the door and scowled when she saw who it was.
Wear Something Red Page 3