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CHAPTERTHIRTY
Liz watched Sally Littlefield as she measured the wall surfaces to determine the scope of the project. The older woman sure was a character. Liz liked her no-nonsense attitude and could tell she was a hard worker.
“Looks like about a three-day job.” Sally stood back and looked up at the ceiling. “Unless you want the ceiling done too.”
Liz glanced up. The ceiling did look a bit yellowed, and as far as she could remember, her parents never had it painted. “I probably should. How much time will that add?”
“Just a day.” Sally pulled a pencil from behind her ear and a piece of paper from her back pocket. She licked the end of the pencil and started scribbling then held the piece of paper out to Liz. “Here’s the estimate.”
It looked reasonable and wouldn’t even use all the money she’d gotten from Andie for the antiques. “Sounds good.”
“What about the other rooms? As I recall, there are three bedrooms and the kitchen. Kitchens usually need ceiling paint.”
“As you recall? You’ve been here?”
“Ayuh. Knew your mom—she was a peach. Then played poker with your dad and the gang in later years.”
The gang? It seemed funny to think of her dad having a gang of poker-playing friends.
“He was a peach too. I was really sorry to hear of his passing.”
“He was a peach? Never heard him described that way.”
Sally laughed. “He was always talking about you kids.”
“Really?”
“Ayuh. He was especially proud of you and your good grades. Said he always knew you could get into the best college with those grades, and that would be the best thing for your future.”
Liz frowned. “Are you sure? As I recall, my grades were never good enough. He was always getting on me about them. Seemed to disapprove of everything I did.”
Sally studied her for a few beats. “I think you might be remembering it from a teenager’s perspective. When you’re a teen you think you are invincible, and thinking about your future involves worrying what to wear to the next party. From an adult perspective, things look a lot different. Adults know how hard life is when you are on your own and how important it is to get a good start. Some fathers think they have to be tough to push their kids to do their best.”
Had Liz done that with her own kids? There were plenty of times she had to be a lot sterner than she’d wanted. At least she’d had a soft side and hadn’t been as bad as her father.
“You should have seen how my father treated me.” Sally snorted. “But our parents were from a different generation. Their parents gave them tough love, and that’s what they passed on. Didn’t mean they didn’t love us.”
Liz looked around the room as Sally’s words sank in. More memories surfaced, this time the bad ones, but now she saw them in a different light. She could see herself storming out the front door after one of the many fights. But hadn’t her dad been calling after her to come back? And hadn’t he treated her to ice cream or something special after? And the sofa where her father had waited up when she’d came in late… she’d assumed it was so he could catch her and yell at her for staying out past the time she was supposed to be home, but was it really because he was worried and couldn’t sleep until she was home safe?
The way he’d kept on her about her grades… She’d seen it as not being good enough, but did he really want her to just do her best so she could have the best opportunities in life?
Could it be that she’d had everything wrong all along?
The house took on a whole new feeling. The new paint to match her new perspective would make it seem like it was her own. A new start with the best opportunities for a good future. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay here until the house sold.
But the house was full of drop cloths and paint fumes, so it looked like she’d be staying at Tides a few more nights.
