Andrea still felt skeptical. “I just wish we had more time. This is a big move and there is a lot more to do than you think, John. We have to get this house ready to sell, and packing is not an easy thing. Not to mention how much time it will take to find another house. You think it’s going to be easy to get all of this done in just a few weeks?”
“It will all work out,” John insisted. “Believe me.”
****
The next day, they put the house on the market with a local real estate company. John made arrangements to meet an agent in Partersville the following day to look at houses there. Andrea could barely keep up with the pace, but she was finally convinced things would work out without a problem.
The morning they were to leave for Partersville, John rushed around the house, running his fingers through his wavy blond hair — a habit of his when he was nervous. “I can do some of the driving, at least part of the way,” Andrea offered when she saw his edginess.
“No, I’ll do all of the driving. You can sit back and enjoy the ride.”
Soon they were on their way past the city limits, heading east. It was a cool but sunny day, and they made good time. They couldn’t have asked for better weather. John had an uncanny wit about him, especially while driving. “I hear they have a great number of log cabins in Michigan,” John said. “Think you could settle for something like that? We could rough it.”
She chuckled at his strange sense of humor. “No, thanks. I would like an old house, but I don’t mean a shack. I want something with character, history. Maybe Victorian.” He looked over at her to see her brown eyes light up with her smile. A dimple in her right cheek added beauty to her face.
The drive to Partersville was fun, exciting. The two of them were like children on an adventure. They looked forward to a new town, a new home, and a dream come true.
Three hours later and halfway there, John pulled into a rest area off the highway. “Fifteen minutes, my sweet wife,” he announced as they got out of the car. “Let’s get some coffee and go to the restrooms before continuing on our way again.”
Glad to stretch her legs, Andrea walked around with a cup of vending machine coffee in her hand — not the greatest in the world, but it would do. She saw John sitting at one of the small tables with a newspaper, drinking his coffee and looking at the headlines. When it was time to get back on the road, John set the paper down and gave Andrea a wave to call her back.
They arrived in Partersville just before one. John liked everything right on schedule. Being on time was a must in his business, and the habit had followed him into his personal life. He never left a client or anyone else waiting.
Andrea marveled over some of the old buildings as they drove through town. “Did you see those buildings?” she asked. “This is an old town all right, really quaint. I think I’m going to like it here. It looks like the old towns we’ve seen pictured in those magazines we get. You know, the ones we always admired so much.”
“Sure does,” John agreed as he pulled up to the real estate office, a beautifully restored old red brick building.
Their agent, Rosemarie Kelly — a short Irish woman with a bit of a brogue — stood inside the door. “Come in, Mr. and Mrs. Devon. We can sit in the next room. I’ll get you something to drink if you’d like. Coffee, tea, or soda?”
“Coffee would be fine for us,” John answered. “We both take it black.”
“I’ll be right back.” She showed them to a room with a round oak table and four
captain’s chairs. The offices were beautiful, decorated in Victorian style.
Expectations grew as Rosemarie returned with a book filled with listings and pictures of houses in their price range. “Look through these.” She put the book on the table. “When you find something you like, I can make arrangements to show it to you.”
It didn’t take long for Andrea to spot something of interest to her. “Here, this one.” She held a picture up of a stately old three-story house. “I want to see this one, Rosemarie. Can we go right now?” The beauty of the older home appealed to Andrea so much she was not interested in the others.
John took the picture from her. “Yes, this one does look good. Seems like it’s in pretty good shape. How old is it, Rosemarie?”
“That one just came on the market. I won’t have the key until three. It’s over a century old. They’re selling to settle the estate. Are there any others you would like to see before that?” She held up a picture of a bungalow. “How about this one? It’s very nice inside. I think you might like it.”
Andrea’s eyes locked on John’s. They both shook their heads. “We’re not interested in any of the others. Can we see the older one at three when you have the key?” Andrea requested.
Rosemarie nodded. “Of course you can. The key will be dropped off at the office here, so if you come back at three, we should be able to go out to see it. If you’re hungry, there’s a little diner right around the corner from here.”
With an hour and a half to kill, John and Andrea took a tour of the town. The square presented a historical monument of days long past. Its four short streets were lined with old, magnificently restored buildings. In the center, a beautiful park boasted a fancy gazebo. Spring flowers accented its perimeters. The city hall, the library, a fire station, and an old bank with a clock tower reaching high above the trees echoed the past. An old stone church gave character to the square. Several small shops bustled with customers coming and going. The charm of the old town was all they could ever have wanted.
The diner Rosemarie suggested was tucked in a small cubbyhole next to the library. They were seated in a booth by a young lady no older than maybe sixteen. John winked as she handed him a menu. “I bet you’re going to tell me you have some homemade apple pie, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we do, and it’s our special today. We also have blueberry, lemon, cherry, and banana cream.”
Andrea laughed. It was great being there. The town and its people made her feel right at home. After a hearty lunch and some friendly conversation with the waitress, they returned to the real estate office. Rosemarie was waiting for them with a big smile on her face.
****
Chesterfield Drive was about twenty minutes from the center of town and John’s new office. Most of the houses on the street were new, with a few older ones intermingled among them. The sun filtered through the large maple and oak trees spread out along both sides of the street. Sun beams danced across the green lawns and rested on the shrubs and flowers in the front yards. The fresh aroma of blossomed flowers filled the warm spring air. Andrea could hardly wait to see the house.
Rosemarie pulled into the long black-topped driveway. “Here we are, folks,” she announced as she parked the car in front of the attached two-car garage. Wide stone steps led up to the majestic white structure. “I like it already,” Andrea remarked, admiring the front porch with its ornate pillars.
“How big is the lot?” John asked.
“One acre. You’ll love the back yard. But let’s take a look inside first.” Rosemarie motioned for them to follow her up to the front door. Long, narrow stained-glass windows stood on each side, making for an impressive welcome. They walked into a large foyer.
Andrea’s heart quickened the minute she stepped into the house. She loved older houses and had always wanted to live in one. She was delighted with the printed wallpaper, the wood floors, and the wide archway to the left of the foyer. In the rear, a large country kitchen sat beside a formal dining room, which wrapped back around to the living room in the front of the house. It was all there, even an old cellar with wine racks still standing against the stone walls.
Rosemarie cheerfully pointed out the spindled banister alongside the staircase to the second floor. “Did you ever see such beautiful woodwork? You won’t find this in the newer houses.”
John smiled, obviously in love with her Irish brogue. He liked it too, but the back yard excited him more. When they walked out to the patio from the
kitchen door, John turned to Andrea. “Hey, babe, I think I’ve found the big yard I wanted. Look at this, it’s great.”
They walked to the rear of the yard, John with his arm around Andrea’s waist. Rosemarie remained on the patio, watching the happy couple take their tour of the yard. They looked at the grapevines, fruit trees, shrubs, and flowers. “Oh, John, this place is so nice. I have pictured a place like this in my mind many times through the years. It’s unbelievable that it’s really here. When we left this morning, I never thought we would find something like this.”
Excited, the couple returned to the patio and smiled at Rosemarie. She smiled back. “Come on now,” she said as she ushered them back to the foyer. “The bedrooms are a nice size, and there is a small sewing room with lots of windows.”
John followed Rosemarie up the stairs while Andrea lingered behind to admire the wood banister. She ran her hand across it. It was smooth and shiny. Then she went up the stairs and stood looking around at the wide hallway and the long windows at each end that almost touched the floor.
Suddenly, a cold draft hit her, taking her by surprise. It was brief, only lasting a moment. She wondered what it was. After a few seconds, she went down the hallway to join her husband and Rosemarie.
Without a doubt, this was the house for them. They made an offer that afternoon, which was quickly accepted by the executrix, a niece of the deceased owner. They made arrangements for the closing on the day they would move in. Trusting Rosemarie to attend to everything, they started back for Chicago to get ready for the move.
Along the way, they talked excitedly about the house, not even making a rest stop. Excitement kept them moving on, as though nothing else mattered but getting moved into that wonderful old house.
****
Packing and sorting through seven years’ worth of accumulated junk turned out to be a major job. John was no help. He had to be at the office most of the time, attending to details of his transfer. In the midst of it all, the house was being shown to prospective buyers. Despite all the confusion of people walking through the house stepping over half-packed boxes, Andrea managed to get everything in order for the move.
The weeks went by fast. Before they knew it, they were waiting for the movers to arrive on the morning of June thirtieth. John made sure the water had been shut off and everything was in order. “Well, babe, it’s almost time to say goodbye to our first home. Remember when we bought this house? We thought it was the greatest thing. Now it seems so small compared to the one in Michigan. We’ll have to buy more furniture. I wanna get yard furniture for the patio first. I can lounge out there between my yard work and after I get home from a long day at my new — oh wow! My own office.”
The movers arrived early, as scheduled. John hurried outside to meet them as they pulled into the drive. They wasted no time getting everything loaded. They were ready to go before noon. John and Andrea stayed behind to make sure the house was clean and secure before leaving. Then they stopped at the real estate office to drop off the keys so salespeople could continue to show it.
John went on and on about his new office while they drove along. “I know I’ll make this office take right off for me. I already have some good contacts for business. It’s gonna be good, Andrea. I just know it.”
It made her happy to know how much he deserved all of this. He had worked hard to get where he was, and now it was paying off. He’d dreamed of having his own office ever since he’d started with the company. What a great accomplishment for John. The century-old house and a charming small town were more than she’d ever hoped for.
When they arrived in Partersville, they met Rosemarie at her office to sign the final papers. She greeted them with a smile. “I have the papers ready, Mr. and Mrs. Devon. If you’ll have a seat in the room over there.” She pointed to the same room they’d sat in last time. “I will be right with you.”
She walked away, leaving John and Andrea seated at a round table. John kept running his hands through his hair. “I hope those movers will be done unloading before dark. They have a deadline, you know. I think it’s nine at night.”
“Don’t worry so much, John. You always do this. You worry about things before you know for sure. They know what they’re doing.”
Rosemarie returned with the papers and set them in front of John. “Here you are.” She handed him a pen.
Once the papers had been signed, Rosemarie gave them the keys to the house. She then reached down behind the table and brought out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “I wish you happiness in your new home. If you need anything, please call me. My phone number is on my card. Thank you again.” She shook their hands and walked them to the door, waving as they got into the car and drove away.
“Wasn’t this nice of her?” Andrea admired the flowers. “I bet everyone in this town is like that. I think we’re going to be happy here.”
“You’re probably right. It’s a big change from Chicago.”
They drove to the house, laughing and talking about the wonderful life they were going to have there. They found the movers busily unloading the van. Rosemarie had opened the door for them earlier. The men were hustling along at a fast pace, anxious to finish for the day.
Andrea got out of the car and started to instruct the movers where she wanted the furniture. “Be careful with that coffee table, it’s very old. I got it from my grandmother.”
“Hey, Andrea, these guys will do just fine without your help. Just tell them where to put things and forget the history of every piece.” John gave the men a wave, and they all laughed.
“Give me a hand, Andrea,” John called out to her. The back seat of the car held boxes of odds and ends from John’s office. “We can put this stuff up in the bedroom for now. I have to sort through it before I take it to the new office.”
When everything had been unloaded, the driver asked John to sign a paper, and the movers left. It was nine o’clock at night and they had to be off the road by ten.
Hungry and tired, John broke open a box of cookies and started to munch on them. “Want some?” he offered, holding the box out to Andrea.
“No, I want to get some of these boxes unpacked so we can shower and go to bed sometime tonight. The towels and bath things are in that big box over there. How about taking it up the stairs for me? I’ll get some of the kitchen things out so we can at least have coffee in the morning.”
For the next few hours, they unpacked boxes and moved furniture around. By eleven, they were both exhausted and ready for a shower and bed.
After they crawled under the covers, John looked into Andrea’s lovely brown eyes and tucked a strand of her long, brown hair behind her ear and away from the deep dimple on her right cheek. He kissed her goodnight and held her close.
John had to report to the office early the next morning, leaving Andrea alone with the chore of unpacking the rest of the boxes and putting seasonal items away in the attic. She struggled to get the boxes up the two flights of stairs to the attic. She couldn’t imagine why there still was so much left after she’d thrown away as much as she had while packing. John was such a pack rat. He had so many prized gems he wouldn’t part with.
Finally she managed to get them all up to the attic. Having set them in the middle of the floor for later distribution to both sides of the attic, she went down to the patio to take a break. She sipped a glass of iced tea, the warmth from the sun embracing her as she looked around at the trees and flowers in the yard. She took in a deep breath of the clean air and let out a contented sigh.
She finished her tea, then went back into the house. It was ten-thirty. There was plenty of time to organize the boxes in the attic before fixing lunch. Andrea always tried to eat three meals a day. She had a tough time keeping weight on her twiggy figure. Returning to the attic, she began to sort the boxes. She would put the winter clothes on one side of the attic and the Christmas things, along with John’s junk, on the other.
The attic floor consisted of wide boards fitte
d closely together. At the outer edges, six-inch boards spaced a foot apart extended out to the edges of the roof. The only light came from a round window the size of a basketball, situated in the front wall of the house. It was just bright enough to see her way around the musty space.
Nothing like working in a hot attic on her first day in her new home. She’d dressed in a thin summer outfit for the occasion and brought a flashlight in case she needed it. The floor creaked as she walked back and forth, setting boxes over to the sides. The heat of the attic had her feeling sweaty and sticky in no time.
Aiming the flashlight on the parted boards, she looked for insulation under them. John had not checked for it when they’d looked at the house. She saw nothing that looked like insulation, but she noticed something under one of the boards in the far corner, near the steep pitch of the roof. It looked like something had been wedged under the wood—perhaps it had been hidden there. She’d almost missed it for all of the dust. It appeared to be square, like a box. She wondered what it was.
She started toward it on her hands and knees until the roof boards touched her head, then she lay down on her stomach to wiggle her way in. She got closer and closer, until she could almost reach it. Setting the flashlight down beside her, she stretched her arm out as far as she could. At last she felt the object. Once she got hold of it she began to pull, but it was stuck. She twisted and wiggled it back and forth until it finally let loose.
Now that she had it firmly in her hand, she proceeded to crawl backward to get out from under the confined area. Once she was safe on the flat, sturdy floorboards in the center of the attic, she sat up straight. She set the box on the floor in front of her and brushed the heavy dust from the top of it. Heat from the wood floor warmed her sprawled legs as she looked down at the treasure she’d released from its hiding place. The old wooden box’s metal latch had rusted in place. Andrea pried at it until her fingers hurt, but it wouldn’t budge.
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