“A lot of room up here.” He ran a hand over the peeling seam of the dark green wallpaper. Izzy remembered when her mother had put that wallpaper up herself. She wanted to tell him that at one time the green had been lighter. Her mother had loved the fleur-de-lis pattern done in gold. With a big table set up on the landing, she'd wielded her brush with authority. Her mother had been so talented and such a hard worker. Izzy hoped that she would approve of what they were planning to do up here. Chase wasn’t saying much and she took his silence as disapproval.
“One of these bedrooms is the master suite.” Izzy led the way to the bedroom where her parents had slept. Aunt Cate had tided it up and everything looked neat. Neat and old.
“That fireplace is nice.” He gestured toward the huge fireplace that was hardly ever used.
“Isn't it though?” The walnut was beautifully hand carved. The story was that their grandfather had brought it to Charlevoix from Chicago.
Izzy felt relieved when Chase didn't say anything about the dated furniture or the threadbare arms of the two love seats in front of the fireplace. But his silence weighed on her. Reminding herself to breathe, she led him from room to room until she came to her own bedroom. Piper lifted her head from the rosebud comforter for a second when they arrived. She gave a low growl until Izzy petted her.
“It’s okay, Piper.” The sweet dog like to nap on Izzy’s bed while Holly was sleeping in the crib. At night it was touching to see Piper curled up at the foot of the bed as if she were watching over the baby. But today Izzy was in daycare. Skipper said he’d bring her home.
Back out in the hallway, Chase paused at the attic door. “Are you interested in doing anything upstairs?”
Had anyone mentioned that? Oh, why couldn’t Izzy remember? “The attic? We haven't thought about it,” she finally pushed out. “This is a joint project with my two sisters and aunt. The upstairs is sort of a place that gathers...” She almost said memories. But she didn't want to be talking about memories with this man.
“Dust,” he said very matter-of-factly. “Attics are great for gathering dust. Some people like to create a bonus room on the third floor. The room might hold a TV for football games, pinball machines, that kind of thing.”
“We never thought of that.” Why not use the living room? The attic seemed so far away from everyone. But maybe some families liked to keep the living room formal. He'd been taking notes but now Chase tucked his clipboard under his arm. “So this is a joint project? Do you plan to make decisions by committee?”
Izzy didn’t care for his tone of voice, as if he’d just told her that he hated broccoli. “We’ll all have our opinions, sure.” Her sisters and aunt had been excited about the renovation. So he didn’t like the idea of dealing with all of them? For Izzy, joint decisions felt safe. She wanted everyone to be happy.
In silence they went back downstairs. The late afternoon sun had left the dining room in deep shadows. Izzy flicked on a light, wanting him to see the beauty of the room. The crystal chandelier still held drying pine boughs. But Chase didn’t seem to notice those beautiful crystals. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he ran a hand over the long table where they'd had so many wonderful family meals. “Will you be sending some of this furniture to the resale shop?”
Now, that was a shock. “We haven't talked about it. My grandfather had this table sent from Chicago. We'll probably keep it.” That long table had been there for ages. She could stillpicture Daddy at the head of it, wielding a carving knife as he explained how to cut into the breast just so to assure even slices.
Chase didn't look impressed, and Izzy tried not to feel insulted. The table was beautiful and so were the high-back chairs, covered in an embossed dark red brocade. Changing from the dated dark green had been a project for her mother. Izzy remembered the table covered with brown paper while her mother worked on the claret brocade that had been a special order. Every time Mom had uttered the word “claret,” Izzy knew how precious the fabric was.
“Any questions?” Chase asked, yanking her from the past. Finishing up his notes, he closed the portfolio and tucked it under one arm.
Izzy tried to channel Sam. What would her sister say? “Have you, um, worked on a lot of projects like this one?”
By that time they were back out in the hallway, and Chase turned. Under his open jacket his oxford cloth shirt looked clean and crisp, as if it had been sent out to the cleaners, along with his khaki slacks. “We work on homes like this all the time. Family relics brought to new life. And I can tell you that people are really into the open concept.”
Relics?Izzy’s head began to throb. But Chase wasn’t finished. He’d gone back into the living room and swept a hand back toward the kitchen. “You might consider tearing out the wall between the kitchen and the living room area to make it more casual. That would give more room for a cooking island and a counter. In the dining room I guess you have to decide how much you want to keep. Formal dining rooms aren’t that popular anymore.”
“Popular?” Since when did a room have to be popular?
Frowning, Chase had come back out into the hall, his socks a stark white against the ivory and black tiles. “I’m thinking the kitchen is a complete demolition. Everything will have to comeout. We can work on getting some more room in the area. That side porch? Is that space you would consider giving up?”
“No!” The word swatted the air like a baseball bat. She’d bitten her tongue and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Izzy swallowed. No way were they getting rid of that screen porch. Thinking of the summers when she would stretch out in that hammock and read, she was shocked by his suggestion. She couldn’t lose that special space under the shade trees. As a little girl, she’d curled up on the double hammock between her parents while they talked about spending more time at Sunnycrest in the fall and winter. The old rattan chairs still had the faded turquoise cushions that the family stored in the kitchen while they were gone.
“And upstairs?”
“Upstairs?” She’d lost her train of thought and could only stare at him stupidly.Upstairs, what?
“What would you like upstairs in those bedrooms?” Speaking slowly, he brought out the portfolio to check his notes.
“We'd like each room to become…an ensuite.” That had been Marlowe’s word and Izzy loved it.Ensuitesounded so french and sophisticated. Much better thanwe need a bathroom.
The scratching of his pen on paper was becoming irritating. “Smart move. We can easily do that. The rooms are large and we can expand closets along one wall and then put in a great bathroom with all the bells and whistles.” Setting his notes on the bench, Chase sat down and pulled on his shoes. Studying his hair, which was thinning at the top, Izzy imagined the sounds of bells and whistles coming from the second floor.
Time was moving on. Glancing at the old grandfather clock in the hall, Izzy wanted him gone. The local contractors probably all knew each other. She didn't want two of them bumping into each other. He seemed to get the idea and stepped toward the door.
“Why don't I come up with a quote for you and email it. Then we can meet again to go over my ideas and see if they’re in line with yours.”
“Sure. Right.” She could forward the quote to everyone. When he reached for her hand, his was cold. The handshake was brief and then he was gone.
Almost weak with relief, she stood in the doorway, arms across her chest in the wintry breeze. Izzy watched Chase back his shiny black truck out of the driveway.One down and one to go.She wasn’t looking forward to going through this again.
