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CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
After Liz dropped off the books, she picked up a lobster roll and returned to the house. She’d cleared some space off the kitchen table earlier, so she sat down and bit into the sweet buttery sandwich. It was just the way she liked it—a buttered, grilled hot dog bun with nothing inside except lobster meat, mayo, and crispy iceberg lettuce.
As she looked around, a feeling of nostalgia crept in. She smiled, remembering fighting with Shelly and Peter over who would wash the dishes and who would dry. Nights at this very table playing Scrabble with the whole family. Now that she’d cleared out the dust and clutter, the house wasn’t too bad. It had been kept up nicely, and she liked the retro feel.
Her phone blared.
“Peter! How are you?” Liz had only talked to her brother once since the funeral and was genuinely happy to hear from him.
“Good. You? Shelly said you were working on the house already.”
“Yep. Cleaned out some junk. Boy, was it full.”
Peter sighed. “I know. I’m sorry about that. Dad couldn’t keep up with it, and I guess none of us noticed. When he had the stroke and I came in to close things up, I was shocked. I guess I should have cleaned up, but I was more worried about getting back to the hospital. We didn’t even know for a while if he would make it.”
“You did the right thing,” Liz assured him, just as she always did.
“So it’s not too much work? I could get some time off—”
“It’s fine,” Liz interrupted him. Now that she was in a groove, she didn’t want anyone coming in and messing with her process. She wanted to do things on her own timeline.
“Okay. What about all the stuff. Are you dumping it? Do we need to do any repairs or fix things up for sale? There’s still a little bit in Dad’s savings, so let me know if you need it.”
“Thanks, I actually might be able to sell some of this old stuff. Believe it or not.”
“Really?”
She told him about Andie and how she’d volunteered to take a look. “If it turns out there’s a million-dollar masterpiece in the attic or something, you’ll find me on a tropical beach,” Liz joked.
“We can only wish! But if there is anything of value, you can keep the money. You’re doing all the work.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll put it into any repairs.” It was nice of him to offer, but Liz didn’t need handouts like that.
They chatted a bit about their families, and then Liz got back to work. She wanted to go through most of the closets and drawers and pull out anything she thought Andie might be interested in. Some things she didn’t want to let go of, like the vintage silver flatware her mother always put out on holidays and the living room lamp that had been her favorite.
She found the old photo album in the cabinet next to the fireplace. She was almost afraid to open it, worrying that it would bring up bad memories and ruin her good mood. But as she sat on the sofa and flipped the pages, she began reliving happy times.
Photos of her and her siblings when they were little. The yard looked so strange, since it had hardly any trees back then. The giant maple was much smaller too.
Thanksgivings with the table loaded with a giant turkey and all the fixings. The big tree her dad would drag home every Christmas loaded with tinsel and those giant bulb lights they had in those days. And the toys! Dolls, play kitchen sets, trucks. If only some of those were still around, they’d probably be worth a bundle. But they’d been well played with and tossed or given to younger cousins decades ago.
She paused at one photo. A picture of her with the German shepherd mix, Ranger, they’d had when she was eleven. In the photo, she was sitting on the grass with Ranger right beside her. Her hand was on his back, and they were both smiling at the camera. She remembered that day and the warm reassuring feeling of Ranger’s back as if it were yesterday.
How nice would it be to have a dog now? She was sort of lonely. Her kids called frequently but rarely came to visit. Her daughter, Sophie, was busy with her own toddler, and her son, Matt, was away half the year on a crab fishing boat.
But before she could get a dog, she needed a place to live.
But where? She wasn’t tied to her old town. In fact, she wanted to be far from it, since Kyle had settled near there. She needed a change. Someplace friendly. Near the beach would be nice. A small town like this one, with a garden and neighbors that were like family.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Bunny. Liz invited her in, and they sat on the living room sofa.
“So, tell me more about this neighborhood.” Liz put on some tea while Bunny talked about each house, who had lived there in the past, and who lived there currently. It was easy to see why Bunny loved living in the neighborhood. As she talked, Liz started to form a plan.
