The faded mint wallpaper—covered with stripes of jungle green, flamingo pink, and white diamonds—is straight from the 1950s. On the wall opposite the front door, a large golden sunburst mirror hangs above a pale green, wrought-iron hall table. “Oh. My. I can seriously say I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Tilly and Meg don’t even blink at my reaction. They continue their tour, and it quickly becomes clear that Charlotte’s two favorite colors were mint green and muted pink. Even the toilets and bathroom sinks are pink.
What was she thinking?
Another thing I soon discover as we walk through the house is that my great-aunt liked to collect things. By things, I mean newspapers, horse figurines, old records, magazines.
I pick up the March 1954 issue of Vogue from the top of the pile in what was once Charlotte’s bedroom. “Was my great-aunt collecting these, or did she just forget to throw them away?”
“Charlotte loved reading historical romances set in the eighteen hundreds,” Meg says, “but her heart was still in the nineteen-fifties. She even has a vintage car from back then. But it’s now rusty and doesn’t work. She refused to sell it or have the dump pick it up.”
I mentally add that to the list of things I’ll need to take care of while I’m here.
Or maybe Antonio would like it. He’s an artist-slash-horticulturist who loves turning yesterday’s trash into today’s plant pot. The guy is absolutely amazing…if not a little odd.
I walk over to the dresser against the far wall. Lying on top of it is a white bunny puppet made from one of Drew’s very old athletic socks. My heart does a little happy squeeze. “Bugsy?”
I’d made the funny-looking puppet that summer when Charlotte visited LA and gave it to her before she returned home. I’d stolen one of my brother’s new socks and stayed up late to glue the ears and eyes and nose on it.
“I can’t believe she kept it all these years,” I mutter to myself, smiling, and return it to the dresser.
In the living room, after our tour is complete, I turn around, absorbing everything. “This will definitely take time to clear out,” I say on a sigh.
It’s a good thing my schedule is free for the next few weeks. I have a feeling this mess will take more than the week I’d originally set aside for it.
“Is anyone joining you to help with this place?” Meg asks.
I shake my head. “I’m a one-woman show.”
“Well, let us know if you need any strong men to help you. We have quite a few around these parts who fit the bill.”
“And they’re single and good-looking, too,” Tilly quickly adds—as if that will change my mind.
“I’m sure she has a boyfriend back home,” Meg tells her. “Which means it won’t matter if they’re single or not.”
Both women look at me expectantly, waiting for me to confirm this, which is funny, given that Meg was just telling me all about Noah—like she was trying to set us up on a blind date.
At that thought, a shudder races through me faster than a stolen Ferrari chased by a cop.
The likes of which is exactly what happened during my first and only blind date five years ago.
I can’t even begin to describe how much fun it was explaining what happened to my father. Fortunately, no nunneries were interested in locking me up and throwing away the key, so all was good. Eventually.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”I’m still dealing with the humiliation of the last one cheating on me.“And you’re right, it doesn’t matter if the men are single or not.”
Charlie barks at Meg and Tilly, his way of saying he wants to be fussed over. Luckily for him, they speak Charlie. Both women give him the attention he craves.
“Aren’t you just a sweetheart?” Meg says.
I grin at the threesome, shifting slightly to take the weight off my leg. “The kids at the library where we volunteer certainly think so.”
Tilly straightens. “Charlie volunteers at the library?”
I puff my chest out on his behalf. “He’s a reading dog.”
“What’s a reading dog?”
“He helps kids who struggle with reading. Often they feel self-conscious because they believe they’re being judged when they read to an adult. With reading dogs, the kids read the book to the dog. Sometimes they pet the dog to help relieve anxiety. Charlie loves it, and the kids love it.”
