“Catch up with me. We’ll have a drink or two this weekend.” J.J. said her goodbyes.
Libby and Hope got back in the Jeep, where the second phase of the charming lake offensive would nearly do Hope in.
ChapterNine
Hope
“Your generosity, it’s too much.”
Libby had driven them to Orchard Beach Drive. The place was three houses from the corner of Cottage and Orchard Beach and a mere two blocks away from Nora House on Sandy Beach Lane.
Hope looked at it and blurted out, “You gotta be kidding me!”
“Ha, cute, right? It was built in the early fifties, according to Aunt Emma. I haven’t had time to check.”
The little cottage had a center door with a window on each side, and flower boxes stretched the width of them, though no one had planted anything in them. The siding was a faded yellow and the door, chipped as it was, was still a welcoming green color.
“Don’t look at the paint. It needs to be stripped and redone.”
Hope listened but disagreed. It was tiny perfection.
“Who owned it before you got it?
“Back in our day, it was a family from Toledo worked at the Jeep plant, Emma said. Anyway, their kids moved out to Oregon and didn’t visit here. Sold it to Emma. She was convinced this was a prime spot, and well, she is right. The beach here is sandy, with easy lake access, sunsets, and the works. Even though the cottage is only eight hundred square feet.”
The cottage’s kitchen and living space were open to each other. There was a brick fireplace, a little table, chairs, a slipcovered love seat, and Hope was drawn to the vintage refrigerator.
“This is a vintage GE Deluxe! I mean, I’m dying!”
“Right? It works.”
“It’s all spruced up. Did you know I would come?”
“I just did,” Libby said. “Stove works too. No idea about that old Tappan oven.”
“Well, I don’t plan to bake here. I plan to bake out there.” Hope said and pointed to the lake.
“Well, there are three tiny bedrooms, one bathroom—ignore the pink tile—and there’s a shed out back. Not sure what’s in there. I’ve barely gotten to my own shed at Nora House.”
“You’re incredible. I mean, taking all this on?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but I needed this as much as it needed me,” Libby said.
She looked happy, and while she was clearly motivated and energized, she didn’t seem desperate. Vitality. That was the word. Libby Quinn radiated with vitality for life and this project she was pitching.
The best part was the last part. The little place was right on the water. Hope looked out the row of windows. They needed washing, no doubt, but the lake was the star of the show. Each window framed the lake, only a few feet away, out back.
“This place is clean, has all the basics, kitchen, linens, bed, chair, sofa, but it’s kind of bare-bones. No one has been in it for a while. My aunt had renters at one point, but then she couldn’t remember her VRBO password. It was a whole thing.”
“I can pay. Let me pay.”
“You are doing me the favor of being here, so no.”
Hope put down her bags. She was suddenly incredibly tired. The last few days started to press on her shoulders like a physical weight.
“Look, J.J. also stocked some food in the little fridge. You can just rest, chill, the water is warming up, so take a swim. I’m just down the road, walking distance.”
“I remember the way. Thank you, I am tired. I think I could sleep a bit.”
