Barry laughed. “More like a ‘marker’ from a gambling debt. You have to pay up.”
Luke grinned. “Gotcha.”
Luke had rented a U-Haul truck to take the largest pieces of furniture and thirty boxes of memorabilia he would probably never open again, but couldn’t bear to part with, to a storage unit across town. He’d packed their clothes, the kids’ toys, kitchen and bathroom necessities, three metal bed frames and bedding in his Ford F-150. He wanted to keep only the essentials at Mrs. Beabots’s house until he got a better idea of exactly what they would need and for how long. As timely as her offer was, it seemed strange to him to think that he and the kids would be living in a construction site until next spring. By that time, new houses would become available, and he’d have Cate Sullivan start looking for him again. He hoped he could find the kind of home the kids wanted—one in which they could all be happy.
Mrs. Beabots hired Lester MacDougal to sweep, vacuum, dust and scrub the back entry and stairs and the entire expanse of the ballroom so that the area was at least habitable when her new tenants came to stay.
She had also enlisted Sarah and Maddie to carry boxes upstairs and help the children get settled in.
“Does Luke know we’re here to help?” Sarah asked Mrs. Beabots as she mixed a cup of sugar into a pitcher of homemade lemonade.
“No,” Mrs. Beabots answered, taking an apple pie out of the oven and placing it on her wooden kitchen island.
“I thought not,” Sarah replied. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Luke’s number. “Hi, Luke. It’s Sarah.”
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, sounding out of breath.
“I just wanted you to know that Maddie and I are here at Mrs. Beabots’s house to help you guys move on this end. Do you need any help over there?”
“Oh, thanks. And no, we’ve got it here. I guess I’m going to have to get a cleaning crew to scrub up the place, though.”
“How about Lester? He’ll do it. Or you could borrow my Miss Milse. They could both use the extra money.”
“I think I’ll need them both,” Luke laughed. “The kids drew on the bedroom walls with chalk, which I didn’t know until we took their posters down. There’s all kinds of stuff like that.”
“I understand. What else can we help with?”
“Could I have Barry bring the kids over there and you guys watch them while we go to the storage unit?”
“Why don’t I come pick them up? Then you guys can keep loading.”
“Good idea,” Luke replied.
Sarah handed the sterling-silver spoon to Maddie. “Stir this. I have to go.”
“Where?” Maddie asked.
“To Luke’s house to pick up the kids and bring them here.”
Mrs. Beabots stuck a knife in her pie to check the doneness and stopped midmotion. “You’re going to the inner sanctum?” Maddie’s eyes whipped to Sarah.
Inhaling a deep, nerve-stilling breath, Sarah replied, “Yes.” She rushed to the little mirror that hung by the sink and smoothed her hair. She grabbed a lip stain from her pocket and ran it over her lips, making sure she hadn’t smudged it. She stuck her palm in front of her face to check for bad breath. Satisfied, she turned to her friends. “I’m off.”
“Good luck,” Maddie said and watched Sarah shoot out the back door.
Maddie turned to Mrs. Beabots. “So when did that happen?” she asked, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.
“Slowly,” Mrs. Beabots replied, eyes twinkling. “Ever since she tried to pay for cleaning his kids’ clothes after Beau muddied them up.”
“I thought he was just a diversion. You know, a summer crush or something to keep her mind off her mother’s death. But I can see it’s more serious now,” Maddie said. She looked up from the lemonade and saw concern scribbled across Mrs. Beabots’s face. “What’s the matter?”
“I just wish I could read Luke as well as I can Sarah.”
* * *
THE BALLROOM WAS an immense expanse of honey-colored French parquet floor with high ceilings, exquisite beveled-glass windows that looked out on Maple Avenue and ornate crown molding and framework around faded and water-stained aqua-and-silver panels of French silk wallpaper. Six twelve-foot gilt mirrors hung on the walls, and three Venetian crystal chandeliers were half-covered with white sheeting.
The bathroom at the end of the room was enormous and just as elegant. It had pink-and-gold-veined marble countertops with double white china sinks in a white French provincial vanity. Above the sinks were two gold-framed mirrors. The walls were tiled in white-and-black-veined marble, and a small crystal chandelier hung in the center of the room. There were two toilet stalls, but no tub and no shower.
The actual construction required to divide the area would not be difficult. The old plumbing and electrical system would be the biggest challenges. He would need to hire a couple of his crew—Barry would definitely sign on. He’d need a very good plumber and an electrician to bring the wiring up to code. In the future, everyone who rented this space was going to need proper wiring for DSL, possibly surround sound and even 3D televisions. The kitchen would need a dishwasher, electric stove, garbage disposal and refrigerator at a minimum. All those issues Luke could handle.
Although it had been Luke’s lifelong desire to become an architect, the fact was that he did not have any formal training. He didn’t want to make even the smallest mistake on Mrs. Beabots’s project. What Luke needed was an expert interior designer and architect.
He needed Sarah.
* * *
AT THE FAR end of the ballroom, Sarah had tied a long clothesline from a French bronze wall sconce on the south wall to another matching sconce on the opposite wall.
“What’s this?” Luke asked Sarah as she picked up a king-size white sheet.
“Timmy’s bedroom wall.” She smiled, flipping the sheet over the clothesline. “It’s not much, but it will have to do for the time being,” she said.
Annie handed Sarah a clothespin. “Cool, huh, Dad?” Annie beamed.
“Yeah,” he replied admiringly and looked around to see that while he’d been hauling the kids’ duffel bags of books and toys up the staircase, Sarah had put together the kids’ beds, including their sheets, pillows and bedspreads. She’d started unpacking boxes and had hung their clothes on a rolling clothes rack that he knew had not come from his house. Against the wall, she’d lined up their shoes, backpacks, Annie’s purses and Timmy’s bike helmet and a long line of baseball caps.
“Dad,” Timmy said, coming out of the bathroom and zipping up his shorts. “There’s no bathtub in there.”
“I know,” Luke said. “Mrs. Beabots said we could use her guest bathroom downstairs until I get the new bathroom fixtures installed.”
“How long will that be?” Annie asked with a worried look.
Luke turned to Sarah. “That depends on Sarah.”
Sarah had just unfurled another sheet and flung it over the clothesline. “Me?”
“I need your help.”
Sarah pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “You need my help? Really? Why?”
“I mean I need your expertise to help me design the bathroom and the kitchen. And the living room and the bedrooms.”
Annie grinned. “Just say the whole place, Dad.”
Timmy walked up and stood next to Sarah. “Can we get a tub big enough to put Beau in?”
Luke shook his head. “What for?”
“So I can give him a bath,” Timmy replied, looking at his father as if he was addle-brained.
“That dog is bigger than you are,” Luke said.
“Not forever,” Timmy replied and walked over to a stack of boxes marked “Timmy’s Toys.”
Luke looked back at Sarah. “Better figure a six-foot tub.”
/> * * *
SARAH SAT AT her drafting table, studying the photographs of Mrs. Beabots’s ballroom, the dimensions she’d taken and the initial concept drawings she’d completed. She poured another cup of coffee from her French press and looked up at the summer sky. It was a sultry night, humid and still, without the hope of a breeze. Sarah had kept the air-conditioning on all day. Fortunately, her parents had installed ceiling fans in each of the bedrooms, which kept the rooms cool in the summer and circulated the warming heat from the furnace in the winter.
She would put ceiling fans in each of the bedrooms in Mrs. Beabots’s apartment, she thought, going back to her drawings.
The back staircase opened into the ballroom and the powder room was off to the right. Sarah’s concept for the area was similar to a New Orleans style “shotgun” house, but in reverse. She would create a long hallway to the left and all the rooms would be off to the right. The master would be situated next to the bathroom, with a door that opened directly into the bathroom. All the closets would line the outer south wall. There was enough room for three large bedrooms or four small ones. Sarah decided that three was enough for a rental. Between the bedrooms, the dining room and living room would be a large, eat-in kitchen with a great deal of counter space and storage areas. Luke could make custom cabinets, or they could order cheap modular, depending upon Mrs. Beabots’s budget.
Because the area was as wide as the entire house, all the rooms had ample space for study or sitting areas. The living room needed to be at the front of the house, where the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the treetops along Maple Avenue. Even now, standing at the windows gave a similar impression to riding the Ferris wheel.
Just thinking about that night over a month ago brought a warm glow to Sarah’s face that she could actually feel when she touched her cheek. She believed Luke turned a corner that night in his quest to put his grief behind him. Until that night, for a good deal of time, Luke’s mind and heart had been so filled by memories of his wife, that there hadn’t been room for anyone else.
“Not even his children, sometimes,” she mused. “Especially not for me.”
Glancing out the window at Mrs. Beabots’s house, she realized that the lights in the ballroom were still burning. On this side of the house, the stained glass was placed at normal window height, and did not start at the floor. Peering at the window, Sarah was certain she saw Luke standing alone, looking out. She raised her hand to wave, but realized he probably couldn’t see her seated this far away from the window.
Then he walked away and the light went out.
Sarah smiled to herself as she went back to her drawing, penciling ceiling fans into each bedroom. It was amazing to her that a few months ago she felt as if she was living in a cave—alone, dark and frightened. She’d lost her job and had been confused about almost everything in her life.
On Monday, she would be going back to work. Her world had been put back together again, yet it had been permanently altered. She’d dug down deep inside her heart and discovered that she had just as many flaws as the next person. Luke had accused her of being needy, and the truth was, she had been just that. Especially in her relationship with James. She had also come to truly care for Annie and Timmy and she was genuinely happy that they lived next door to her now. She looked forward to being able to see them whenever she wished.
She also realized Luke was growing more and more important to her. What she felt for him was different than anything she’d ever experienced. She felt enormously happy when he was happy. Ever since the festival, she noticed that he hadn’t displayed anger about selling the house, his move, giving away his wife’s clothes or even the fact that the kids were going to public school. These were enormous hurdles for any family, yet Luke faced each one head-on. The kids seemed happier and more resigned to the idea of making new friends in a new place. No doubt living at Mrs. Beabots’s house had brought some of the comfort and stability that one of the hovels the wretched rental market in Indian Lake could never provide.
In a few days school would start. Summer was nearly over, and Sarah had to admit that as her life moved forward, there probably would never be a more propitious time in her life. She’d made many changes of her own that summer. She hoped that she’d become a better person. She was trying. Perhaps, she thought, that was all any one person could ever expect of themselves...that they could just keep trying.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SARAH’S FIRST DAY back at work was filled with welcoming hugs from her coworkers and a closed-door meeting with Charmaine.
“I’ve met with a couple, Emma and Ralph Collingswood, from Atlanta, who are moving here and want to open an aromatherapy shop,” Charmaine said, handing Sarah a folder with the couple’s business plan, photographs of storefront designs they wanted to emulate and a budget sheet.
“This is going to be tight,” Sarah offered as she looked over the paperwork.
“That’s exactly what I said. I told Emma that the only way she could get this kind of work done was to hire us. Between my contacts in Chicago and your network of friends in the estate auction business in this area, we might be able to find the kind of antiques she wants to create the look of a turn-of-the-century apothecary shop she wants.”
“Did they buy this property on Main Street, or are they renting it?”
“Renting. It’s a ten-year lease and they got it for a steal.”
“Did you use Cate to broker the deal?”
“Absolutely. With the kind of money the Collingswoods will put into the building, the landlord should be doing flips.”
“I would think. So when do you want me to meet with the clients?”
“Tomorrow. Nine in the morning. We’re doing a Skype conference. I’ll introduce you then. I want you to get started on the drawings. That gives you time to check out the building today, see the city engineer and schmooze him a bit. Apply for the permit. You know the drill.”
“When do they want to have the grand opening?”
“May first.”
“Opening day of tourist season.”
Charmaine winked. “You got it.”
Sarah closed the folder. “I’ll get on it,” she said and started to rise.
“There’s one more thing.” Charmaine stopped her. “I want to know what you’re going to do about the church.”
“What about it?”
Charmaine held up her finger, whirled her Italian black leather swivel chair around and stuck a pod of caramel macchiato coffee in her Keurig. “Want one?” Charmaine asked.
“I’m good, thanks. So tell me what you mean.”
Charmaine whirled back around and looked Sarah squarely in the eyes. “I had a meeting with Jerry Mason over the weekend.”
“Luke’s boss.”
Charmaine raised an eyebrow, but continued. “Yes, well. Jerry has had a rough summer. The city council squashing the new retail center didn’t help anybody, especially for the fall and winter. Fortunately, for us, I got on the phone and secured several jobs out of Chicago. But Jerry depends on the building that is going on right here in Indian Lake. So I was thinking, now that it looks like you’ve nearly got the money secured for the church, that you could give the bid to Jerry’s company.”
Sarah smiled. “I thought of the same thing.”
“You did.”
Sarah nodded. “Actually, I thought of it when Luke and I were working on the festival together. I just wasn’t sure how long it would take or if I could pull that much money together. Thanks to your generosity, we can go forward with the renovations. Jerry’s company absolutely fits the bill. The Church Council asked for three bids. One was from a firm in Gary. Another from one in Chicago. They were both way over our budget. I figured since Luke knew how much money we had nearly to the dollar, he and Jerry would bid appropriately.”
“When a
re you sending this information over to Jerry?”
“I faxed it an hour ago,” Sarah said with a gratified smile.
Charmaine took the cup of steaming coffee from the Keurig and sipped it. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re back, Sarah.”
“I’m glad to be back,” Sarah replied. “And not just physically.”
“That’s what I meant,” Charmaine replied perceptively.
* * *
WHEN SARAH PULLED into her driveway, she was surprised to see Timmy sitting on her front steps with his arm around Beau.
She got out of the car and walked up to them. “Hey, guys.”
“Hi,” Timmy said, stroking Beau’s head. “I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“That did cross my mind,” she replied.
“I came to ask you for a job.”
“What kind of job?”
“I was thinking I could walk Beau every day for you. Brush him. Stuff like that. After school, you know?”
“I see. And how much would you charge me for this?”
Timmy shrugged his thin shoulders. “Twenty five cents a day. When I get bigger, I could give him a bath, too. Once my dad puts in a bathtub.” He pointed to Mrs. Beabots’s house. “I’ve decided to be a vet’narian. So this job would be important for my future,” Timmy said earnestly.
Sarah hid her smile behind her palm. She nearly had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. The little boy had clearly thought of every pitch he could.
“I think it’s a fine idea,” she said. “What does your dad think about all this?”
“I haven’t asked him.” He looked at her pleadingly.
Sarah instantly understood what Timmy was up to. “And you want me to go to him and ask him about this job for you. Is that right?”
Timmy looked sheepishly at his sneakers. “Yes,” he answered quietly.
Sarah looked at Beau, who was smiling as Timmy continued stroking his head. She glared at the dog. He ignored her. “You’re not helping, Beau.”
Beau let out a bark.
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