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“Looks a little rough.”
I snort at Savvy’s cautious observation. She’s being diplomatic; the place is an absolute disaster.
My plan was to come up here by myself, get a lay of the land so to speak, but somehow Savvy found out and insisted on coming. There is no saying no to Savvy, she just got in her cruiser and followed me up. I suspect it was either my father or Rick who tipped her off, since I already turned both of them down.
When I confronted Pops about the letter, he said he didn’t know about the house. All Mom had told him was she’d invested some money she’d inherited after my gramps died and I was the beneficiary.
After that, my mother’s letter was burning a hole in my pocket, so I called the lawyer and was able to meet with him on Saturday. A kind, older man, he only had a few papers for me to sign before handing me the keys to the house. That was it. I’m not sure what I expected, but the whole thing was a bit anticlimactic. I guess I always imagined becoming a home owner would be a milestone moment, one for the books, but it was, in fact, quite uneventful. If anything, it was bittersweet.
Anyway, I didn’t want to make a big fuss coming here, but it is obvious Savvy has different ideas when she pulls a couple of glasses and a bottle of pricy champagne from the back seat of her cruiser.
“It’s barely nine thirty in the morning on a Monday,” I point out.
“So? Pretend it’s a mimosa,” she suggests. “Besides, I also have some cheese and one of Beth’s crusty olive loaves to soak up the alcohol. I’m not a complete savage. But first, let’s have a look inside.”
I glance over at the house and, at first, notice all the things that are wrong with it. Missing shingles, two cracked windows, ripped siding, peeling paint, broken steps to the porch, and junk littered everywhere. But then I start to see the house underneath: from its simple roof lines, steeped dormers, slatted window shutters, to the small carved details on the porch posts.
Yes, it’s in rough shape, but it once was a beautiful house and can be so again…with a little elbow grease.
I’m mostly scared of what we’ll find inside though. Aside from the fact nobody has been here for a while, I’m not sure how Dozer would’ve left the place. Only one way to find out, I guess.
Leading the way, I take a big step over the broken treads onto the porch. An old rocking chair, weathered by wind and rain, still sits in the corner. If the wood is still good, I’d like to restore it to its former glory. I can see myself sitting here with a cup of coffee in the morning, listening to the birds wake up as the sun rises.
The spring on the old screen door groans when I pull it open, but the key turns surprisingly easy in the lock, and the hinges on the ornately carved, solid wood front door only lightly squeak when I push inside. The first thing I notice is how light it is. The house looks so gloomy from the outside, I expected it to be much darker. The reason is the large picture window and sliding door at the back of the house Dozer must’ve had put in at some point.
The layout is simple, a centered entrance with a large living and dining area on the left, a stairway up to the second level straight ahead, with the entrance to the kitchen at the back of the house behind it, and two closed doors to the right. One leads to what looks to be a den or home office, but it could be turned into a bedroom, and the second opens up to a small bathroom with just a sink and a toilet.
What strikes me is how well-maintained it appears to be. Sure, there is dust everywhere, dead flies in the windowsills, and the decor and appliances are definitely outdated, but despite its obvious age, the inside of this house was clearly taken care of, in contrast with the neglected exterior.
“I’m actually impressed,” Savvy announces as she pokes around the kitchen, checking cupboards and drawers for anything left behind.
Dozer didn’t leave much, just a large old stone jug on the counter I’m pretty sure was once used for milk, and a couple of mismatched kitchen chairs. Other than that, there isn’t much furniture left down here.
“So am I,” I second. “Judging from the outside, I was bracing myself for the distinct possibility it would be filled with trash, but it doesn’t even smell that bad in here.”
It smells musty, like something that’s been closed off for years, but nothing fresh air from a few open windows wouldn’t fix.
The upstairs has one large space on the left over the living and dining areas, and a full bathroom and bedroom on the right side of the stairs. From the imprints left on the old carpet, it would appear Dozer used the larger space as his bedroom, which is exactly what I plan to do.
I’m pretty sure at some point this was two separate spaces—back when this house was built, they wouldn’t have built such a frivolously large room. But despite windows in front and at the back of the house, the room is still quite dark. The windows look to be original and are tiny for the large space, so that’s going to be one of the first things I’ll want to change.
I linger up here, trying to imagine what this space could become and compiling a list of things to do on my phone, while Savvy disappears back downstairs. I can hear chairs scraping and the front door opening. Moments later she hollers up the stairs.
“Are you gonna come down?”
“Yep.”
Even though the stairs feel solid, the railing is a little loose, and I make a mental note to add that to my list as well. I have no doubt that list will be as long as my arm before long, but with each item I’ve added, I’ve felt my excitement grow. I have no idea how I’m going to find the time to tackle all this, when I’ll have to get back to my job at the hospital soon. I already don’t know how to juggle work and helping Pops keep the pub running, but those are big issues I don’t want to think about today.
“Here.”
Savvy shoves a champagne flute in my hand and holds up her own for a toast. “To new adventures!”
I carefully tap my glass to hers before taking a sip.
New adventures, indeed. Although, at the moment, it looks more like a whole lot of work that feels a little bit overwhelming.
