"He seems a decent guy," Mila said as they walked back toward the complex of houses. "Tell Jen I will be over a little bit later to help her with the unpacking."
"Are you okay?" Josh asked.
"Yeah," Mila said, looking out over the beautiful postcard scenery. "Don't worry. I'm not suffering from PTSD, Josh. I am simply a classic case of a wartime widow. I've only had five months to get used to my new situation, and sometimes it is still hard to believe. Your timing could not have been more perfect."
"It was coincidental," Josh admitted. "Besides, I like the idea of someone else being around for Jen and the kids when I can't be here. Do you need counseling or anything?"
Mila shook her head. "The military is supportive and provides counselors and support groups. My circumstances were a bit unusual, so I needed to put some space between the Army life and me. I had already decided not to re-up when I discovered I was pregnant. When you called to ask if I wanted to reunite with Jen, I immediately packed and left."
She looked over at the main house. "I peeked through the windows. There is a lot to be done."
"This is why we are here. Jenny gets her first look at it today."
* * *
"Wow," Jenny said, looking around the main front room with its massive cathedral ceiling and an entire front wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. The architecture was beautiful, but the interior design was a disaster.
"Well?" Josh asked, watching closely for her reaction.
"Wow and yuck. Some of it is Cape Cod meets shabby chic, other sections are more of a hunting lodge with modern touches and what remains in between is just plain ugly."
"I know. I see bits of Frank Lloyd Wright rip-offs such as the fountain, but frankly, they even did that badly. No pun intended," said Josh, looking around.
"It was a good one," Jenny said nodding her head. "No wonder your friend doesn't want to live here. This is a mess."
"From what I gathered on the history of the house, the owners began the original construction thirty years ago. Then, for ten years or more, the project continually started and stopped, restarted and stopped again. Apparently, the person building it was experiencing health problems. Twenty years ago, they restarted construction once more and finally completed it. Five years later, they added the guesthouse and the housekeeper's quarters.
"There are a couple decent rooms. The office space is great, so I plan to setup my computers in there. Wait until you see the library. It's amazing. A professional designed and decorated those two rooms. The kitchen might have been good in the beginning, but someone has ruined it. It will be a total gut, as will the laundry room. There is a solarium or greenhouse on the other side of the house, it looks as if it has gone to jungle. I saw evidence of real birds and animals in it.
"The second floor bedrooms are equally as bad as this room, but most of the money will go into bathroom renovations. This house is not that old, so the closet space is adequate. Unfortunately, except for the library and office, most of the furniture is junk and will go to the dump."
They continued exploring the house room by room. It contained ten large rooms as well as significant open spaces downstairs. Six decent-sized bedrooms were on the second floor, all with en-suite bathrooms twenty-five to thirty years out of date.
"Where do we start?" Jenny asked when they returned downstairs.
"Here in the great room," Josh said without hesitation. "I need a structural engineer to inspect everything, but I want to knock out part of the wall to open the space to the kitchen. Not a total view, but enough so whoever works in the kitchen won't feel isolated from the rest of the great room." He pointed to the opposite side of the house. The office is perfect. We only need to clear out some of the old books and junk and give it a good cleaning. The furniture doesn't look as if it has ever been used, although it could use a new desk chair."
"New paint and wallpaper in here," Jenny mused. "Get rid of the carpet and put down hardwood if it isn't already underneath."
"It is, I checked. Those are your decisions," Josh said with a smile. "However, the entire wall in front of the library needs to come out. I believe it is load bearing so it will get complicated. I will have to design new supports to redistribute the weight in that section of the house. However, the library is magnificent and too beautiful to hide. It's a takeoff of the best parts of the Biltmore Library without the heavy influence of the Victorian period. It demonstrates amazing workmanship… the millwork and the wood, the iron railings, the spiral staircase to the second level. I need to research and find out who built it."
"Perhaps a wall of glass," Jenny suggested. "We could install mechanized draperies or shutters on the first floor to preserve privacy when needed… a little mix of old and new."
"We will look into it," Josh said, dropping his chin to the top of Jenny's head. "It is a big job," he said, dragging out the word 'big.' "Somehow, we have to make this place livable. Those are our orders… beautiful, yet homey and comfortable."
"Do we have a budget yet?"
"We are working on it," Josh answered. "Jen, you do realize the working budget for the project and our salaries are two separate things. This is a huge break for us. We will have no rent or mortgage, no car payments or utilities. In turn, the place needs a lot of hands-on work. We will do everything ourselves except the structural and mechanical work. At the same time, I will be working on projects for Peak Designs.
"It means we can live on a budget, a cash budget with no credit, no charges, and no exceptions. I have to put my foot down. We were way over our heads in debt, most of it unnecessary. I will never let it happen again."
Jenny nodded and fingered a cross over her heart. "I swear."
* * *
Jenny came outside onto the deck carrying a tray of ice tea and cookies. Mila was watching Emmie play on the grass.
"Living here is like being in a vacation paradise," Mila said. "This is a million-dollar view. I am surprised a fancy hotel or spa hasn't built here."
"I know," agreed Jenny, gazing at the view she appreciated more every day. "Josh is right. We were blessed to fall into this situation."
Mila looked over to her sister. "I thought so when he called me. I should never have lost contact with you, Jen. I'm sorry I did."
"Why did you?" Jenny asked. "You were just gone one day. You disappeared overnight. Mom didn't even tell me you had actually run away until you had been gone for two months."
"I was young and angry. Mom and Dad raised us to believe that whatever we wanted, we could have. It was a lie. They wanted us to have what we desired as long as it coincided exactly with what they expected of us. It was mostly Mom. She trotted us to all her country club parties and social events. She sent us to an exclusive preparatory school so they could parade their perfect daughters for show and tell. In reality, they didn't give a damn about either one of us.
"I remember when you left for college. Mom and Dad said they could not afford it because Dad had some financial setbacks, but that didn't stop you. You applied for student loans and left anyway. Every time you came home on vacation, Mom trotted you to her country club to meet one eligible man or the other. She invited others to the house, all so you would make an acceptable match. Of course, it had to be someone who met her criteria of wealthy, connected, and proper breeding. It was as if we were pedigreed dogs. You didn't hear all the screaming and yelling after you ran off to marry Josh. I was only a kid and didn't understand most of it at the time, but I did later."
"They said studying art was a worthless pursuit," Jenny said.
"There was a lot more to it," Mila snorted. "Didn't you ever think it was weird Mom and Dad never pushed us to go to college? In their world, most families expected their children to receive an Ivy League education. It was not only because they are topnotch institutions of higher learning, but because of their prestige. The Pratt School of Engineering at Duke University accepted my application right off the bat. It is the leading engineering college in the nation, and incredibly
tough to get in. Our parents knew where I was applying and saw how proud I was when I got my letter of acceptance. They only told me afterwards that there would be no college money from them.
"When they told you they wouldn't pay for your college, you went out, got scholarships and student loans, and away you went. They weren't taking the chance of the same thing happening with me. They waited until after all the deadlines for scholarships or grants passed before telling me they did not intend to pay for my college education.
"Mom said Lenny Masterson had asked Dad's permission to marry me, and I should accept. I was seventeen years old! They acted as if it was the friggin 18th century and perfectly normal to arrange a marriage. I told them I was not marrying anyone! I was going to college. Mom said they saw no reason to waste money on an education when a Masterson would give me a life of luxury.
"That's when it finally dawned on me. We were supposed to be replicas of Mom, vehicles to siphon major money into the family coffers. They picked out Bruce Weymister for your husband."
"Bruce is gay!" Jenny laughed.
"Do you think such a little detail would have stopped them?" Mila snorted. "God forbid a person be allowed to be who they are meant to be.
"We had knockdown, drag out fights about it, me, Mom and Dad. The fights weren't physical, of course, but there was lots of screaming, and shouting, and ultimatums. Finally, they made it clear they expected me to marry that creepy Masterson. He was twenty-eight. I was still a couple of months shy of my eighteenth birthday. As far as I was concerned, they were proposing sexual abuse and child endangerment. I packed a bag and climbed out my bedroom window. I worked as a waitress to support myself until I turned eighteen. The people I was staying with worried they would get into trouble for harboring a runaway, but Mom and Dad didn't even report me missing. What kind of parent doesn't report it when their seventeen-year-old daughter goes missing? Since I wouldn't conform to their expectations, they wanted nothing to do with me. You know what? I was fine with it.
"I had a month of high school left. I went to enough classes so no one caught on I had left home. I took my final exams and got my diploma. I enlisted on my eighteenth birthday. It worked out well for me. I was even able to go to Duke for a couple of years, although ultimately I earned my degree from MIT. I meant to shut Mom and Dad out of my life and I don't regret it. I never regretted going into the service. I do regret not staying in contact with you.
"Not that it makes any difference, but I did make a couple of half-assed attempts to communicate with you. On big event days, the day I shipped out to basic, the day I received my degree from MIT. The day John and I got married. For some reason, I never got through to you directly, only to your answering machine. I never left a message, I didn't follow through."
"We would have taken you in," Jenny said. "We hired a private detective to look for you when we found out you had run away, but he couldn't find you. When did you marry?"
"Three years ago," Mila answered. "He was a Marine. He shipped out for his second tour five months ago. I got pregnant the night before he left. A month later, he was KIA and they shipped his body home for burial.
"We were already having problems before he left for his last tour. Marine tours are generally for seven months, but they extended his first tour to nearly fourteen months, so he was credited for a double tour. When he returned stateside, he was an entirely different person. It was as if all his good characteristics had disappeared and all his bad ones had magnified. He was drinking hard and getting into so many fights, he lost his rank. He was angry about the demotion; he was angry about so many things. He didn't have to go back. He could have requested a deferment since he had already pulled a double tour. We argued on it. I didn't want him to go. I wanted him to stay and get treatment since he was obviously suffering from PTSD, but he left anyway." She looked down at the finger where she had worn a wedding band.
"I don't wear my wedding band. If he had lived, I would have divorced him. I probably should wear it, but I can't feel guilty about the way I feel. It's the truth.
Jenny squeezed her sister's hand. "You have no reason to feel guilty. If he changed, if he was no longer the man you married, it was your decision to make."
Chapter 5
Jenny made her final check on the children before crossing the little hall and going into their bedroom. It was a small room as were most of them, not a third of the space of their master bedroom at their previous house, but it was comfortable. She leaned over her husband and kissed him.
Josh put down the book he was reading. "What was that for?"
"For not being Bruce Weymister," Jenny said smiling.
At his confused look, she explained while snuggling into him. "I left home and got away from all those ridiculous expectations. I broke away from the endless cycle of guilt they laid on us. I knew they had trained us to behave and act like perfect little robots. Why did I fall back into her trap?"
"She is your mother, and she implanted her little time bombs in your head. She is a master at making people feel they are failing her. In truth, she is the failure. She views love as manipulation, control, and material wealth." He reached over, pulled a book out from a stack by his bedside nightstand, and handed it to her.
Jenny read the title aloud, Living and Coping with Passive Aggressive Behavior.
"It is classic Denise," Josh said. "I found it in a clearance rack outside the Book Nook in town. I haven't had time to read the entire thing, but what I have read is a perfect match for her behavior. The author calls it sugarcoated hostility, sullenness, pettiness, and bitterness. He lists almost every one of her personality traits and behaviors. The author explains how people like your mother build an ideal of their perfect life. When life doesn't meet those expectations, they strike out at everyone around them instead of changing their outlook to something more realistic. Denise is an angry, dysfunctional person. I would feel sorry for her, except she tried to destroy us."
"I will read it." Taking the book, she tossed it carelessly onto the floor and clarified, "Later."
"Good idea." Josh gave his own book a toos. He had better things to do with his hands.
* * *
"Jenny!" Josh exclaimed, poking his head into the office where she was taping wallpaper samples she had printed off the computer to the existing walls. "You have to leave," he ordered.
"Why?" Jenny asked, as he pushed her out the door and dropped a yellow construction hat on her head.
"This is the most dangerous part of the reconstruction we will do," Josh said, pointing out the window where a crane lifted a steel beam. "We already have the supporting beams in place. Once we secure this cross beam to the upright beams, we can remove the rest of this load-bearing wall. If the place is going to cave in, it will be during this process. Hurry, go out the back."
"I don't like this," Jenny complained. "If I am in danger, so are you!"
"I know what to look out for, you don't," Josh said, taking her by the arm. "Out! The crew knows what they are doing." He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one could see them, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and a playful smack on her bottom. "Out, woman, out!"
Jenny went around to the side of the house where she could watch the activity. Mila stood at the back edge of the yard with Adam in her arms as she held Emmie's hand. She had an engineering background and she was interested in what was happening. Jenny took possession of her children and gave the hard hat to her sister.
"Thanks," Mila smiled, running across the yard and disappearing into the house.
Josh would let Mila stick around for demolition work, but not her. He said Mila would at least know when to duck or run. They were already into September, Josh's goal was to have all the structural work completed before the snows began. In the San Juan Mountains, they could start as early as October. They would have the winter months to work on the inside. They had completed nearly all the plumbing work and installed new heating and air-conditioning units. They were the big-ticket items Josh w
anted to replace before starting interior renovations.
Jenny watched her husband through a wide opening in the house where the crew had removed windows. Josh was talking to the superintendent, pointing to this and that. She knew the general concept of what they were doing. Josh and his structural engineers had been over the house a dozen times strategizing.
Mila was helping with the mechanical changes. She had researched and selected the replacement furnace and air-conditioning units. Later, she would be involved in the mechanics of the moving walls and draperies, along with several other items slated for updating or replacement. They were turning this into a family project and all of them were enjoying the process.
Josh was in his element and she knew he had made the right decision for their family. He was happier now than he had been in the past six years. For the last several weeks, stress had seemed to melt off him. He was happy and enjoying what he was doing.
So was she. To her surprise, they received a second shipment of personal belongings. This shipment had more of the kid's things, as well as the entire contents of her art room. Josh had asked her, how could she create new textile art for the house if all her equipment, fabrics, and yarn were in storage. He unpacked a few of her boxes with her and took several finished art pieces to their little guesthouse where he proudly hung them on the walls.
It had been almost a rebirth for Jenny.
She had closed the door on her art several years ago. She told herself it was because she didn't have time, but it wasn't the real truth. She had lost her need to create during the constant backlash of criticism from Denise. Denise saw no value in 'handmade' anything unless the artist was the current pet of her society circle, when their pieces became the chic thing to own. The exclusivity of a high price tag was more valuable in her world of elitism than the simple joy of art.
Broken Vows (Domestic Discipline Romance) Page 9