“So, if I agreed to take this on, I’d report to you? Does this mean you’ll oversee everything? The bathrooms, the finishing choices, the furnishings, everything?”
Willow frowned. “To be honest, I’m not sure that George is ready to redo everything in here, Donna. I’m afraid we could be jumping the gun. I only asked you up here as a friend ... to talk about ideas.”
“It sounds like you already have your ideas.” Donna looked disappointed. “This house could be so beautiful—done right. If you just want to do it piecemeal, well, at least it will be an improvement. But nothing like it could be.”
“I know.” Willow nodded. “But, you see, George is very easily overwhelmed. And like I said, he’s not feeling too well right now. I think the best plan might be to proceed slowly.”
“Well, you’re a friend.” Donna smiled. “So how about if I give you the number of my favorite contractor. Cliff Grant has more than twenty years’ experience in this town.” She elbowed Willow. “And he’s single.”
“And he’s good at kitchen remodels?”
“The best. Anyway, you get the wheels rolling, and if George decides to take it to the next level, you give me a call. Okay?”
Willow smiled. “Yes. That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
“I’ve heard that George Emerson is a bit of a character.” Donna winked. “He’s been sitting on this gorgeous property for years. I’m impressed that you’ve gotten him to budge on it at all, Willow. Good luck.”
Willow thanked her, and then, feeling overwhelmed, sheput Cliff Grant’s number in her phone while she walked Donna to the front door. Even though George had asked her to handle these improvements, Willow felt uneasy. Yet as she looked at the big old house, which was steadily emptying—and she knew the profits from sales were adding up—she felt eager to see this place taken to the next stage. Perhaps it would be just what George needed to begin feeling better. Maybe he’d wanted to do it himself, but had become overwhelmed while emptying the attic. To be honest, she felt her interest in working on the Rockwell Mansion was somewhat selfish too. It would be just plain fun! As an artist, Willow had always entertained an interest in interior design. She’d taken charge of all the improvements in their Sausalito home—and it had been a pure delight. Plus, knowing that the gallery was in good shape ... well, why not?
So Willow went out in the front yard and called the contractor, explaining the project and asking for him to stop by at his convenience. But like Donna, when he heard it was the Rockwell Mansion, he was eager to come see it. “How about Monday morning?” he asked.
“That’d be great. Hopefully, we’ll have everything cleared out by then.” She explained about the estate sale, and he reassured her he could see past that. As she hung up, she decided that he sounded like a very nice man. And if he was as good as Donna had insinuated, this should be a piece of cake.
By late in the day Saturday, Willow could hardly believe how cleared out the Rockwell house had become. “It almost seems a waste of time to have the sale tomorrow,” she told Savannah as they were closing it down.
“But some people said they’re coming back,” Savannah said. “They expect everything to be half off.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Willow turned off the lights. “I forgot that your grandmother put that in the ad.”
“So I plan to be here,” Savannah assured her. “Collin said he was coming over to help too. Don’t tell him, but I’m going to ask him to go out with me afterward.”
Willow smiled. “Good for you.” She waved as Savannah got onto her bike, thanking her again for her help. Even though Savannah had been “paid” in the form of some collectibles, Willow felt like the girl’s contribution was probably worth more than the secondhand items she’d chosen. But she appeared to be enjoying herself. Not only that, she’d impressed Willow enough to secure a part-time job in the gallery this summer. Hopefully it wouldn’t go south the way it had with Marissa.
Willow wasn’t going to worry about that. Right now, she was more concerned about George. She hadn’t heard anything from Josie and hoped that didn’t mean that George had rejected her offer to help. Willow planned to drop by on her way home. If George had refused Josie’s assistance, Willow wasn’t opposed to forcing her way in and taking over. But when she got there, she was surprised to see that Josie was lounging on the sofa and George and Baxter were in his chair—watching a black-and-white movie on the old-fashioned television. And the house was a wreck.
“Sorry to barge in.” Willow tried not to stare at George’s wrinkled and stained shirt—or the pile of junk food wrappers splayed across the coffee table. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
George shrugged, but remained slouched in his chair. “I think I’m better. We’re watchingBright Eyes.”
Willow blinked at the old-fashioned TV. “Is that Shirley Temple?”
“Shhh!” Josie scowled at them.
“She’d never seen Shirley Temple before,” George whispered. “This is our third one. Do you want to sit down? It’s barely begun.”
“No, no, that’s okay.” Willow remained by the door. “I’m tired and in need of a good long shower.”
Josie shushed them again, so Willow gave a little finger wave and slipped out. But as she went out to her car, she felt dumbfounded. Not that Josie and George were watching Shirley Temple films together. That was rather sweet. But seeing George in those dirty clothes with messes all over the place ... well, that was pretty concerning. Especially since she’d sent her daughter over there to help out. To be fair, Josie would never earn a Good Housekeeping Seal. Still, it was somewhat disturbing. It was almost as if George had simply given up.
But why?
Willow was just sweeping the worn wood floors in the spacious Rockwell living room when she heard someone at the front door. “It’s me—Cliff Grant,” a man called out. “The door was open so—”
“Yes, yes, please come in.” Willow hurried to the foyer and introduced herself. As she shook his hand, she felt pleasantly surprised to see that Cliff Grant was quite good-looking—tall, dark, and handsome. And hadn’t Donna mentioned that he was single? Willow guessed that he was probably in his forties—not that age differences had ever concerned her much.
“This is quite a place.” He gazed around the foyer.
“I really appreciate you coming on such short notice.”
