Whispering Pines (Celia's Gifts Book 1)

by Kimberly Diede

  Air colder than outside pushed out at them as they stomped dirty snow off their boots and entered the lodge. It was dark; dusty furniture loomed in hulking shadows. A flip of the light switch on the wall yielded no additional light.

  “Stay put, folks,” Ethan said, and he ventured farther into the dark space ahead, aided by a small flashlight he pulled out of his jacket pocket.

  What a relief to have everyone with me on my first trip, Renee thought.

  In no time, weak light streamed in as Ethan raised window blinds to admit the mid-morning sun. Knowing they would freeze their feet if they took off their boots, they stomped off any remaining debris and ventured into the lodge. Frigid air was heavy with the smell of old wood and an undercurrent of . . . something else. As more blinds were opened, a large, open space came in to view. A massive fireplace dominated the west wall and ceilings were at least twelve feet high. An old bar stood in front of much of the north wall. Mirrors and shelves, empty of all but a thick layer of dust, lined the wall behind the scarred wooden bar top. Another wall was covered with old photographs. Renee walked over to it, tracking dusty footprints across the open space.

  It was a hodge-podge of images, hung there over the decades. Most of the frames were the cheap, simple kind, made up of different shades of wood and plastic. Some images were black-and-white, featuring countless groups of campers, hunters, and fishermen; others were taken more recently, but colors were fading and the images blurring more than the older shots. The massive collection of photos reminded her of the history surrounding this old place. Renee hadn’t thought much about the legacy of the resort. A bit of the magic of the old place started to slowly creep into her soul.

  A shriek snapped Renee back to the present. Ethan rushed over to see what his sister was panicked over.

  Probably just a dead mouse, knowing Jess, Renee thought, smiling to herself.

  But even Ethan took a step back when he saw what she’d discovered. Jess had opened the door to an old bathroom—only to find a nest of squirrels living in the sink, chattering incessantly at her as if telling her to get lost. Ethan quickly closed the door to prevent the squirrels from running into the main room.

  He looked around at everyone in the lodge and said in explanation, “Family of honest-to-God squirrels. Must’ve gotten through that broken window above the toilet.”

  George snorted. “We’ll need to figure out how to relocate that little family of squatters and fix the broken glass.” He nodded at Julie and added, “And soon, if I know anything about teenage girls.”

  Julie scoffed, but she didn’t disagree.

  Next they made their way upstairs. The air was thick with dust motes. Limp café-style curtains, displaying a brown-and-orange tulip pattern and probably dating back to the ’60s, maybe early ’70s, covered the bottom two-thirds of the few windows upstairs. Pulling back the curtains did little to dispel the gloom—the windows were filthy. Renee was sorry there wasn’t a bank of windows along the wall facing the lake. If this area were to be at all useful, more light was needed. Huge braided rugs covered most of the wooden floors. There was nothing more to see, so they all made their way back downstairs and outside.

  Farther back from the water, behind the lodge and graveled parking area, was a large shed. A rusted padlock prevented them from rolling up the fiberglass door, but a quick glance through the window confirmed the shed held lawn equipment and other tools.

  Renee used her phone to snap lots of pictures and take videos as they explored. She asked Julie to do the same and saw Ethan making notes on a small pad he kept pulling out of his jacket. There was so much to see, she wouldn’t remember a fraction of it all by tonight if she didn’t record it.

  Next they made their way over to the smaller cabins. Three were situated in a loose semi-circle, set around a large fire pit. The other two stood farther away, nestled along the edge of the woods rimming the clearing. George’s key-ring held keys with little numbered stickers on them, but they didn’t know which cabin was which, so it took time to get the doors open.

  Thankfully no additional critters were found in any of the cabins. Unfortunately, one did have some significant water damage: the cabin tucked farthest back from the lodge had water stains running down the corner of the back bedroom wall. Ethan pointed out where a tree had rubbed the shingles and worn a small hole through the roof, letting water trickle inside.

  The three cabins by the fire pit all had similar floorplans. You entered into a small kitchen area containing a wooden table surrounded by four chairs. Beyond was a living room with a modest rock fireplace in the corner. A couch with nubby green upholstery—the kind that wears like steel, Renee noted—plus a recliner and a wooden rocking chair provided seating. End tables with heavy lamps completed the furniture ensembles. Bedrooms filled the back two corners of the tidy little cabins, flanking a small bathroom. Two of the cabins had screened porches off the kitchen which would provide a welcome escape from mosquitoes on summer evenings. Ceiling fans throughout the cabins would help keep them cool; there were no air conditioning units. Electric heating units were mounted low on some walls to chase away the chill.

  If they still work, Renee amended.

  The cabin with the water damage was small, with only one bedroom. The kitchen was so tiny only a narrow table fit in the space. The other cabin on the edge of the woods was much larger. It boasted two bedrooms, similar to the first three cabins, but it also had a small third bedroom instead of a screened-in porch.

  All the beds were made up, but the cabins smelled of mildew. Renee and Jess inspected the bedding further and agreed it would need to be replaced. The mattresses would probably have to go, too. Renee was starting to panic a bit. The cabins weren’t in terrible shape, but everything looked dated and tired. No telling what would need to be fixed once electricity and water was turned on to the cabins. It was too cold to consider checking pumps yet, and they didn’t want to flip the breaker to the cabins until they had more time to inspect the electrical systems.

  Thinking they had checked out everything as best they could, Renee headed back toward the lodge. Everyone followed, but when she walked to her vehicle, George continued on to the other side of the lodge, looking back at her, confused.

  “Don’t you want to check out the duplex?” he asked.

  “What duplex?” Renee replied. “I thought we looked at all the buildings. I don’t remember a duplex.”

  “You probably never had any reason to venture back in that direction when you were a kid,” George speculated. “The caretakers for the resort always lived in the east unit back here, and various staff lived in the west unit. I have no idea what shape they’re in, but as long as we’re here, I figured you’d wanna check.”

  Renee still didn’t see her dad’s mythical building as she turned the corner at the back of the lodge. She and the others followed George down a paved path, warning him to take it easy as patches of ice made the walkway slick. The path turned first right around a big tree and then left around another, before the house came into view. Unlike the other buildings, this one wasn’t sided with logs. Pale yellow siding with blue shutters and two pink doors stood before them. A small porch stretched across the front. The doors, probably red before time had taken its toll, were the only indication it was a duplex.

  Two rickety Adirondack chairs sat on the porch with a wooden box set between them. An old rusted bicycle stood in a far corner. George mounted the stairs and unlocked the door on the east side—this time the two duplex keys were easy to distinguish. Similar to their entrance into the lodge and cabins, they were met with cold, stale air. A semi-circle of faded linoleum gave way to gold shag carpet. Heavy drapes covered the front window.

  Renee followed her father in, Julie, Ethan, and Jess at her heels, and George showed them around like a landlord with a potential tenant.

  “Stairs”—he pointed to a staircase climbing up into the darkness—“lead to an upper level.” He pointed to the back of the main floor. “Kitc
hen back there, though I’m not sure what kinda condition it’s in.”

  The furniture matched the era throughout the rest of the resort. Striped gold-and-orange wallpaper lined the walls of the front room. The kitchen was dark. Cabinets, almost black in color, absorbed the pale light streaming in the window above the sink. Avocado-colored appliances completed the early ’70s vibe.

  “Yeah,” Renee agreed with George’s first tentative assessment. “I doubt these still work.”

  Ethan pointed at another doorway in the kitchen. “Where’s that lead?”

  George scratched his head, recalling old memories. “Down to the basement, I believe.” Ethan, Renee, and George headed down—Jess and Julie had gone off exploring somewhere else.

  Ethan used his flashlight to light the way. The floor and walls were unpainted concrete. A washer and dryer stood in the corner, elevated on a wooden platform, perhaps to keep them off a sometimes wet floor. “Those bad boys look a couple decades newer than the appliances upstairs,” George remarked.

  Renee nodded. “Thankfully the basement’s bone-dry at the moment.”

  Satisfied with the condition of the lowest level, they headed back to the kitchen.

  Footsteps from above meant Julie and Jess were exploring upstairs, so Renee and the others joined them. There were three small bedrooms along with an obnoxiously pink bathroom on the second floor. Pink subway tiles lined the lower half of the walls of the bath, broken up by a thinner row of black tiles and topped with walls painted a paler shade of pink. A black toilet and sink stood in stark contrast to the pink tub. A large, plate-glass mirror on the wall above the sink was flanked by black lanterns suspended by ebony chains. Bedrooms were carpeted in the same shag as downstairs.

  Julie started sneezing from the dust they stirred. They headed back out to the porch and then did a quick review of the west unit while she waited outside in the crisp air. The unit was a mirror image of the first, except it showed more wear and tear. Renee remembered her father saying the resort caretakers lived in the east unit. They would have been more likely to take care of their home than the more transient population of staff that lived in the west unit through the years.

  Their exploration of the resort lasted for a couple hours, but the chill started to set in. Spring didn’t have much of a grip yet. Renee was conflicted about all she had found during this first visit. There was something familiar about the old lodge and the grounds. Of course, the muck and partial snow cover made it all look worse. Mother Nature would no doubt brighten up the place in the months to come. But some damage on the buildings was evident. Renee worried closer inspection would reveal more problems. Interiors were in sore need of updates. She still had no idea why Celia had picked her to become its proud new owner either. Why not Ethan, with his carpentry skills? Why did Celia even hold on to it all these years? As far as Renee knew, Celia hadn’t been out here in a long time.

  Sentimentality, probably, she thought bitterly.

  Knowing everyone was cold and hungry, she herded her daughter and sister back to the vehicle while George and Ethan made sure everything was locked up. She saw her brother and dad pointing around at the various buildings as they made their way back to her Toyota.

  The group was more subdued on their drive home. George shot Renee an encouraging smile and patted her leg, but made no comment. Renee snapped the radio on as she drove, her mind jumping from potential project to project.

  As they passed that decrepit sign, Renee thought to herself: What in God’s name am I going to do with Whispering Pines?

  Chapter 36

  Gift of Experience

  “So, Ms. Clements, tell me a little about yourself,” Katy Harper prompted. “Work experience, team management, any project work . . . that type of thing.”

  Renee eyed the young recruiter sitting across from her. The small room they were in felt . . . close. Stuffy. If she’d bothered to give my damn resume more than a cursory glance, she’d already know some of this, Renee thought bitterly. She was probably still in diapers when I started working, and now I have to impress her. She took a deep breath and mentally adjusted her own snarky attitude.

  “I held a variety of positions with increasing levels of responsibility at my last company,” she began. “I managed teams ranging from three to ten and oversaw numerous complex projects.”

  “Give me an example of one such project,” the recruiter prodded.

  Nodding, Renee recited a response she’d rehearsed the night before. “One of my more challenging projects involved updating the servers across our network in locations stretching from New York to Reno. My team of eight techs traveled between our locations and I coordinated their work with independent contractors.” The woman nodded as Renee delved deeper into her explanation. “We completed our work within the prescribed timeline and only exceeded budget by two percent, due in part to increased hardware costs. I was able to find cost savings elsewhere to offset larger overages.”

  For the next thirty minutes, Ms. Harper continued to quiz Renee on her work history. Eventually, Renee felt she had given the recruiter plenty of thoughtful responses, and she subtly began to shift the conversation, asking questions of her own. The interviewer became the interviewee.

  “Now that you have allowed me to share examples of my experience with you, Ms. Harper, would you please take a few minutes to tell me more about this particular position? You obviously do this type of thing—interviewing candidates—on a daily basis, so I would like to cut right to the point. I have two decades of experience in corporate America. I know some people are a better fit for certain roles than others. There’s give-and-take in every job, of course, but I plan to be selective in my next career move. I don’t want to waste your time if this position doesn’t feel right to me.”

  Katy paused before responding, meeting Renee’s steady gaze. “You know, Renee, I appreciate your candor. You’ve been forthright with me, sharing your history and not adding fluff or embellishment just to impress me. I have to say . . . talking with you is like a breath of fresh air. So . . . yes . . . letme tell you more about the role.”

  As the woman reviewed key aspects of the position, Renee added a few notes to her list of questions she’d prepared ahead of time.

  “Will there be much overnight travel?” Renee asked.

  When Katy confirmed this, Renee pressed for details around duration. She continued to ask questions from her list, asking more about the comp structure and how much vacation the company offered as part of their benefits package.

  “Believe me,” Renee said, “I realize most people don’t ask this many questions early in the interview process. I apologize if I’m coming across too strong. I just don’t want to play games here.”

  Katy laughed, waving off Renee’s concerns. “Renee, you’ve earned the right to ask these questions. You wouldn’t believe the kids I get in here, straight out of college . . . no experience, demanding a certain pay level, more vacation . . . the list goes on and on.” Renee gave Katy a brief nod, commiserating with her. Katy continued. “You don’t project a sense of entitlement, just a desire to understand what this job entails and whether or not you have any interest in it.” She stood to signal the interview was over. “I enjoyed our visit, and I hate to cut this off, but I have another appointment waiting for me.”

  “Don’t let me keep you any longer.” Renee rose, offering her hand to the woman. “You haven’t scared me off, so I hope to be invited back to interview with your panel.”

  Glad to escape the tight room, Renee crossed through the reception area, her high heels echoing on the gray marble. Just as she reached for the elevator button, the brass doors slid open and a well-dressed young man, not much older than Julie, rushed out. He barely spared a glance in Renee’s direction as he skirted around her, his eyes instead finding the attractive blonde receptionist off to the left.

  Nice, buddy, Renee thought, snickering to herself. If you are Katy’s next appointment, she’s gonna see right through tha
t fancy suit.

  As Renee exited the skyscraper, she raised her face to the sunlight. The office upstairs had felt confining. Down here at street level, exhaust fumes masked the freshness of the early spring air. Interviewing was stressful. She had no idea whether she would advance to the final interview, nor was she entirely sure this position was going to be a good fit for her if she did get an offer.

  I can’t wait to get home to take Molly for her walk, Renee thought.

  ***

  The next day, Katy Harper called to invite her back for a panel interview that Friday. I wanted to go see Aunt Celia’s lawyer about Whispering Pines on Friday, Renee lamented, feeling some of her newfound, albeit temporary freedom slipping away already. She had never personally interviewed with multiple people at once, but she’d been one of the interviewers on such a panel the preceding year. She remembered thinking then how she would hate being the one in the hot seat. Now it was her turn.

  What’s that phrase? she thought. “My, but how the tables have turned”?

  Friday dawned clear with a tinge of warmth in the air. Heading back downtown—taking the same route she had trekked for so many of her working years—Renee avoided the worst of the traffic and arrived early. With time to spare, she visited her favorite coffee shop and sat at one of the empty tables outside. As people hustled by wearing designer shoes, schlepping sleek laptop bags on their shoulders, and talking animatedly into cell phones, no one paid her any attention. No one seemed to pay attention to anyone else either, each caught up in their own hectic little worlds. Everyone had somewhere to be and something to do. For some reason, this made her think of Fiji . . . and then Matt . . . and then Whispering Pines.

  Renee thought the panel interview went smoothly. She was able to answer most of their questions without too much trouble.She learned the company was currently going through a restructuring phase, and this was a newly created position. The overnight travel could prove problematic for Renee with Robbie at home, but otherwise most of the details they shared were favorable. They promised to get back to all the candidates with their decision the following week.