She’d tried to patch things up, called, sent letters. Carolyn was cordial but always had an excuse why she couldn’t come out to visit. Carolyn felt that Mary had chosen opening the salon over their little family and had never forgiven her, even now as an adult.
But Mary wasn’t the type to dwell on the sad things in life. She preferred to be grateful for what she had. So many others never figured out what they really wanted to do. Like Andie, Mary thought as she glanced over, seeing her turn the shop sign to Closed. It was good she was working with Emily Thompson. Mary didn’t know if Andie would make that big discovery with any of the Thompsons’ antiques, but she suspected she might find what she was looking for all the same.
Speaking of which… she picked up the phone and dialed Sally Littlefield.
“Hey, Sal, it’s Mary.”
“I know it’s time for a haircut, but I’ve been so busy,” Sally said in her usual brusque manner.
Mary laughed. “I’m not calling about that. Remember when I ran into you the other day and you said that you were doing some work at the old Thompson house?”
“Ayuh. Andie Miller is cleaning that old place out. Gonna be an auction there.”
“I know. I was thinking maybe it might be a good idea to send Shane to do the work.”
“Pfft. You think I can’t handle fixing some old steps?” Sally sounded offended at first, then she hesitated. “Oh… I see what you mean. Andie will be there.”
“Right. Exactly.”
“Yeah, you know, I think my bursitis is acting up. I’m gonna see if he’ll take that job.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want you to get injured.”
“No sirree, we gotta take care of our bodies. Getting old ain’t for sissies.”
Mary hung up with a smile on her face. Shane had mentioned getting together with Andie when he was here, but would he follow through? A little push in the right direction never hurt anyone.
Her chest burned, and she reached for the bottle of antacid she’d taken to keeping in the top drawer of the reception desk. The indigestion was a nuisance, striking at odd times. She’d never had a problem before, but lately it had been coming on more and more. Sally was right. Getting old wasn’t for sissies.
Chapter Ten
It wasn’t until the third day that Andie got the nerve to approach Emily about the attic. They’d worked through the living room, dining room, and library for the first phase of sorting out the items that Emily didn’t mind sending to auction.
Frank had been there and set up the tent for the auction already, and they were putting in long days to make their way through as much as possible.
Andie had sifted through elaborate chased silver flatware, admired antique Depression-glass platters, and inspected dozens of handmade linens and doilies. All very nice items but no important discoveries. Oddly, Andie didn’t mind. It was fun looking through the items, and each day Emily seemed to thaw a little toward her.
Emily had been suspicious about how much Andie was going to charge for all of this, but when Andie said she simply wanted first dibs on some of the better pieces, for which she would pay fairly but with enough room to make a good profit, Emily had started to come around. Andie suspected the slow change in attitude might have had something to do with Rita and some of the ladies at Tall Pines vouching for her over and over again.
Emily had even offered her coffee and banana bread in the old-fashioned kitchen with its giant fireplace, and the two of them were settling into a routine that was almost friendly.
She was spending a lot of hours on the job, but from what she’d seen she’d be able to make good money from the choice pieces. She’d have no trouble selling them and had already lined up a buyer for a tiger maple bureau that was two hundred years old but in pristine condition and a set of Limoges china, also pristine. She wasn’t worried about the money, and she was having fun. Perhaps she’d set up a little service doing estate clean-outs after she was done. It felt good to help people.
“I think maybe we should look around in the attic next,” Andie said once they’d moved the last of the items slated for the auction into the living room. They’d decided to stage those items in there and then work from that pile to set them out on tables on the porch and under the tent for the auction-goers to preview.
Emily made a face. “I think it’s all old junk up there. Castoffs. No one has even been up in decades. Plus, it’s sweltering.”
It sounded perfect to Andie. In her experience all the best stuff could be found in attics and basements that everyone thought were filled with junk and where no one had been in decades.
Ten minutes later, Andie discovered that Emily hadn’t been exaggerating. The attic was sweltering, and it was also packed to the brim. There was no way they could get to all of it, so Andie decided to come up with a plan that included starting in the way back, as that was where she assumed the oldest things would be.
They made a path by moving old boxes and shoving broken dressers and chairs aside.
“I don’t think my ancestors threw anything out,” Emily said as she put an old rocker against the wall. The caning on the seat had broken and was hanging down.
“Their trash is our treasure.” Andie opened an old steamer trunk that sat under a window. Dust flew up and swirled in the sunlight. Emily sneezed.
Inside the trunk was an old dress made from a mile of fabric. It had once been black but had faded to brown with age. The fabric felt stiff and crackly as Andie carefully lifted it out.
