He sighed. “I’ve actually considered calling a dump truck to haul it all away.”
“No.” She firmly shook her head. “There are obviously a lot of great things here, George. But it looks like too much for just one person. You know that Josie was eager to help.And I’ll bet Collin would help too. He’s got Monday and Tuesday off.”
George frowned at the crowded foyer. “The trouble is, I honestly don’t know what to do with all this stuff. I try to sort it out, but then I get frustrated.” His expression looked frantic. “I just wish it would all go away.”
“You should have an estate sale, George. Maybe you could use the proceeds for fixing up that kitchen and—”
“I can’t do that. I’m no salesman. It’s been hard enough bringing this stuff down. I can’t organize a sale. I have no idea how to price this junk.”
“It’s not all junk,” she protested. “I’m sure there are some valuable items here.”
“I removed the valuables years ago,” he said. “My grandmother’s jewelry and important papers and all that sort of thing. I worried the house could be burglarized. Although that never happened.”
“Even so, you don’t want to throw away items that you could sell instead. I worked at an antique sale back in college, so I know a thing or two about what’s valuable and what’s not.” She held up a finger. “And I have a good friend, maybe you know her—Betty Harris. She used to have an antique shop here in town. She’s retired now, but I bet we could recruit her help.”
“I don’t know ... doesn’t sound worth it to me.” George looked so overwhelmed that Willow’s heart went out to him.
“You need help, George. It’s too much for one person. Let Josie and Collin and me help. We can recruit a few others too.” She glanced toward the packed living room. “We should start by selecting what pieces you’d want to keep.”
“I don’t want any of it! Not a single stick.”
“Nothing?” This was worse than she thought. George was losing it.
He waved both hands. “I just want it to all go away.”
Willow felt worried. It was as if something in George had snapped—or was about to snap. “George,” she said slowly. “Do you believe that I’m your friend?”
He nodded somberly.
“Then, can you trust me?”
He shrugged. “I think so.”
“How about if you let me organize your estate sale? I’ve been a businesswoman for more than twenty years. I can handle this for you.”
He looked close to tears now. “It’s too much to ask.”
“I’m your friend, George.” Willow spotted Baxter cowering between an old trunk and a rocking chair. “I think you and Baxter should go home. You take a nice, long shower, and let me start working on this in an organized manner. I’ll get Josie and Collin over here to help with the heavy stuff.”
“I can’t just leave you—”
“Just take a break, George. Come back whenever you feel like it.”
“I guess I could use a break.” He removed a grimy handkerchief to wipe his brow. Then he handed her the keys, loaded Baxter into his cat carrier, and left. Of course, as soon as he was gone, Willow wondered ... Had she bitten off more than she could chew? But she was used to challenges. In fact, she rather enjoyed them. It was something that had often frustrated Asher. But after a few years, they learned to give each other their space and their freedom. In the end, it had strengthened their marriage. Perhaps helping George like this would strengthen their friendship.
First Willow called Josie, asking her to come lend a hand. “And you can collect some treasures while you’re here. George has made a nice little pile for you to choose from.” Then she called Collin, explaining how overwhelmed George was right now. “I know you work until two today, but if you feel like helping afterward, I could really use your muscle.” After he agreed, she asked him to drive her car over so they could load some things into it.
Next Willow slowly strolled through the maze of boxes and furniture, going from room to room and trying to put together a plan for an estate sale. Finding a tablet and pen in what appeared to have been a den—although it was so cluttered it was hard to tell—she began to make notes. Then she called her friend Betty and explained the situation.
“An estate sale at the Rockwell Mansion?” Betty said with enthusiasm. “How exciting. When do you think you’ll have it?”
“Well, I’m up here right now trying to organize, but it’s a bit chaotic. I’ve enlisted my kids to help. Hopefully for the next couple of days.”
“My granddaughter, Savannah, is staying with me this summer—and complaining of boredom. Perhaps she and I could come over to help. I know I’d love to get a peek at the place. I might even be in the market for a few things myself.”
Willow arranged for them to come on Tuesday afternoon. “That’ll give us a chance to bring some order to the place. It’s on the verge of dangerous right now.”
“When do you expect to be ready for the sale?” Betty asked.
