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CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Liz had just finished cleaning out the old bookshelf next to the fireplace, and Sally had just finished painting the living room when the doorbell rang.
A young woman in her mid-thirties stood on the doorstep. She was dressed in a tan T-shirt with crochet detail and striped linen pants. Comfy but not too casual. Her straight blond hair hung just below her shoulders, and she had wide-set blue eyes that brimmed with energy. She was holding a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade. Boy, this neighborhood sure was big on bringing food.
“Hi! I’m Emma Chamberlain from number nine. Bunny said you’re re-doing the house, and I saw you here working and thought you might need a break.” Her eyes widened as she peered past Liz’s shoulder into the living room. “Wow, this place looks great!”
“Thanks. I’ve cleaned a lot of my parents’ stuff out, and I’m having it painted.” Liz pointed at Sally.
“Hey, Sally.” Apparently, everyone in town knew Sally, including Emma.
“Emma, how’s the deck holding?”
“Great.” Emma turned to Liz. “Sally fixed the deck on my house last year. She’s the best.”
“Come on in.” Liz shooed her all the way in and shut the door. “How long have you lived in the neighborhood?”
“Just about eight years. I moved here with my daughter after the divorce.”
“Did you know my dad?”
Emma nodded. “He was so nice to Avery. That’s my daughter. She’s in school right now. She was just little when he was here, but she used to come over when he was outside tending to the yard, and your dad would be so patient with her, explaining all about plants. I guess she needed a father figure.”
Would the surprises never end? Liz was learning more and more about her dad.
“Anyway, I was so sorry to hear that he passed. We used to visit him up at Tall Pines.”
“That was nice of you.” Liz felt new guilt that Emma had probably visited her father more than she had. “Let’s go eat in the kitchen. I’m starved. What about you, Sally?”
Sally eyed the platter as if she wasn’t sure if she was invited.
“I made enough for all of us.” Emma said.
“Well, I am pretty hungry.”
“We both deserve a break.” Liz herded Sally and Emma toward the kitchen. She paused at the doorway and looked back at the living room. All the clutter was gone, and the walls looked fresh and crisp with their coat of warm gray paint. “You did an awesome job.”
“Thanks.” Sally smiled with pride.
Liz got out plates and glasses, and everyone sat at the table.
“This house really looks good. I hope whoever you sell it to appreciates your hard work and is a nice neighbor.” Emma took a bite of her sandwich. She’d brought an assortment—ham and swiss, tuna and egg salad, all cut into neat triangles.
Liz picked an egg salad triangle off the tray. The thought of someone else living in her house was unsettling. Especially since she’d just put so much work into it.
“Seems a shame to move out of this nice place,” Sally said, as if reading her mind.
Liz looked around at the familiar, homey kitchen. Okay, maybe it could use new cabinets and granite counters, but it still felt comfortable and familiar.
“Why don’t you just stay here?” Emma asked.
“I own it with my siblings, so we have to sell and split the money.”
Emma nodded. “Of course, and I suppose you have your own home somewhere too.”
“Actually, I don’t. I moved into an apartment after my divorce, and they’re turning it into condos that I can’t afford.”
Emma nodded in sympathy. “I had a similar experience after my divorce.”
