Page 26 of Blue Jean Summer

I had to scrub the house that smelled like a hospital. I had to store everything in a corrugated metal unit that I never wanted to have to open again.

I had to do it all while holding my breath and blinking back tears. There was no time to grieve. Maybe that was one reason why I had said yes to Hayes’s proposal. The absurdity felt like a necessary shock to my system.

“No,” I answered honestly. “I’m not. And I’m okay with that.”

Hayes nodded in grave understanding. “Same.”

The single word was the most comforting condolence anyone had offered.

He pulled out the first suitcase. “With Lewis around, I can’t guarantee peace. But there will be space, and I’ll be taking advantage of that where he’s concerned.”

“How long is he planning to stay?” I asked as I shouldered two smaller duffel bags.

Hayes took both of them off my shoulders, then grabbed a suitcase. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

I grabbed another suitcase as he began to pack mule my things into the house.

Hayes stopped in his tracks. “Leave it. I’ll come back down to get everything.”

“I packed them up. I can carry them inside just fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cath, I’m not letting you carry your own bags.” He tipped his head to the house. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, I followed him up the path, through the kitchen door, and up a discreet staircase that led from the kitchen to the second floor.

I knew the first floor like the back of my hand. It was where guests were entertained. Whenever I hung out with Zach so Hallie could have a little time to herself, we stayed downstairs. The living quarters on the second floor were new to me. Massive was an understatement. I had never lived in a house with wings before. Shoot—every house I had ever lived in was smaller than the kitchen here.

“That’s the west wing,” Hayes said as he cocked his head toward a curving hallway to the left of the staircase. “Hallie and Zach live on that side.”

We passed a small sitting area that was filled to the brim with dark-lacquered bookcases packed with a little bit of everything.

“That’s Lewis’s room whenever he’s here.” Hayes motioned to the cracked bedroom door. Clothes and bedding were tossed all over the place. Every flat surface was cluttered.

“This one’s yours,” Hayes said as he moved down and paused in front of a set of double doors to the left of Lewis’s room.

“Where’s your room?” I asked.

Hayes set the bags down and pointed down the hall and to the right. “In the east wing.”

I hated the idea of being close to Lewis, but at least Hayes was nearby.

“Just so you know, this used to be Granddad’s room,” Hayes said. “And in case you’re superstitious, he did not die in there.”

I laughed under my breath. “I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

“Hallie got it ready for you. She moved some things around to freshen it up. But if you want to change anything, that’s fine.”

I watched with curiosity as he pushed open the double doors. Sunlight flooded in from the massive windows that covered the longest wall. A four-poster bed stood tall, piled high with linens in pale blues and whites. The mahogany chest of drawers was gleaming, with a small vase of roses on top. More flowers dotted the bedside tables and the coffee table in front of the small sitting area next to the windows. A fireplace stood stalwart across from the foot of the bed. I imagined watching the snow fall outside those windows as firewood crackled.

“There’s an en suite bathroom. Cleaners come every Tuesday, so try to have things picked up before they come. Laundry is on your own, but Hallie does the linens on a schedule so the washing machine isn’t tied up all the time. Put yours in the laundry room on Wednesday mornings and she’ll bring them back up in the afternoon. If you run out of trash bags for the bathroom or toilet paper, it’s in the storeroom in the kitchen. When it gets cold, you can use the fireplace but talk to Mason first. Hallie will have guys come out to sweep the chimneys before the first cold snap, but Mason will talk you through how to use the fireplace and show you where the split wood is.”

The room was massive, easily bigger than the entirety of my last apartment. The walk-in closet was a full-size room in and of itself. The bathroom door was open, giving me a peek at a massive vanity complete with a tufted seat. I was utterly spoiled with both a walk-in shower and a behemoth claw-foot tub.

Hayes kept rattling off the schedule of how the house worked, but it faded into a blur as I slowly crept toward the wall of windows. That was when I realized they weren’t actually windows. Some of them were, but in the middle was a set of gleaming glass doors that led out onto a small balcony that overlooked the rose garden.

The view was breathtaking.

I moved mindlessly, opening the doors and stepping out into the warm May air.