“Who’s that?” Jackson peered over her shoulder to see.
“These are your great-great-grandparents.” She flipped the photo over to show him where Poppa had written “My parents, Odell and Viola Jackson, 1909.”
“That’s more than a hundred years ago.” Jackson took the picture, examining it more closely.
“I think they were the original owners of this cottage.”
“Wow, that is so cool, Mom. We should hang their picture in our house.” He reached into the box for another old photo. “We should hang all these up. It could be our way to remember the past, kind of like saying thank you to them for giving us this cool place to live.” He looked hopefully at her. “Wouldn’t they look great on the fireplace mantel? Or we could just hang them on the wall. How about along the stairway? I’ve seen that before in movies.”
“I don’t know...” She wanted to say “no way,” because she knew family photos weren’t the best way to stage a house. And yet it was sweet that he appreciated his family history. “Do you really want all these old ancestors staring down on you? Isn’t it kind of creepy?”
“They’re our family, Mom. It would be like they’re here with us, watching over us.”
“Well, I’ll think about it.” She slowly stood. “What about Oliver? Any luck finding his owner?”
“Nah. Mrs. Campbell agrees with Taylor. She thinks one of the summer families abandoned him a couple months ago. She told me I should just keep him. And that reminds me, we should go get him some dog food today. And we probably need some other groceries too. We’re out of eggs, and I just finished the last of the milk.”
“Hallo up there,” Gordon called from downstairs. “I’m all finished in the bathroom. Wanna come have a look?”
As they clomped down the stairs to check out his work, Wendy knew this meant she’d have to give Gordon his final payment, and her resources were pretty tapped out. Still, having the bathroom done put them that much closer to selling. Somehow she had to stretch her budget to make these frazzled ends meet.
“I missed having my good work assistant with me today,” Gordon told Jackson.
“I’m sorry.” Jackson introduced him to Oliver, explaining his hunt for the dog’s owners.
“Looks like a good dog.” Gordon gently twisted Oliver’s ear. “Maybe you oughta keep ’im. Make a good watchdog.”
“Yeah, that’s what I told Mom.”
“It’s possible he belongs to someone else,” Wendy said a bit sharply.
“Take him down to the vet clinic,” Gordon told her. “They get lost dogs in there all the time. They got a bulletin board for it too.”
“Wow, this looks like arealbathroom.” Jackson was already in the bathroom, probably trying to segue their conversation. “You even put up the towel bars and stuff. It looks really good.”
Wendy hurried past Gordon to see for herself. “It’s perfect!” she said. “Thank you so much! It really does look like a bathroom now. Better than ever.”
“Well, you and your boy did the flooring and paint—and if you ask me, it’s not half bad either.” He handed her his bill.
She knew Gordon didn’t take credit cards, but even if he did, she wasn’t sure there was enough left on her card to cover this. “I’ll get my checkbook,” she told him. As she went to her bedroom, she felt a desperate rush of nerves. Her anemic checking account didn’t have quite enough to cover this, but she hated to ask Gordon to wait. She remembered the seashells that Caleb had made a check for. If she could pick that up and deposit it today, it would probably make up the difference. At least she hoped so. Just to be safe, she dated the check for tomorrow, and fortunately, when she explained it to Gordon, he didn’t seem to mind.
“Probably won’t make it to the bank until Monday anyway.” He slipped it into his pocket. “Feel free to call me if you need help with anything else.”
She thanked him, and as soon as he left, she told Jackson they needed to run to town. She pointed to Oliver. “But what do we do with him?”
“Can’t he come with us?”
She considered this. “Good idea. I think I’ll take Gordon’s advice and swing by the vet clinic to—”
“Do I have to go with you to town?” Jackson said. “If I stay home, I can start clearing out my room, you know, get it ready to paint.”
“That’s true.”
“Maybe you could bring home some dark blue paint.”
“I suppose I could.” If Caleb’s check was big enough to cover it.
“And Oliver can keep me company. Like Gordon said, he’s a good watchdog. He really makes me feel safe, Mom. You know, when I’m home alone ... or walking on the beach.”
