AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When no one answered to the bell, Averil knocked loudly, and Mitch copied her by shoving the teddy bear he’d taken from the car into his left arm so he could knock with his right hand.
No response. “Talulah?” Averil yelled, knocking again.
Still nothing. Pulling Mitch along behind her, she went to the garage and used the flashlight on her phone to peer through the window on one side.
Talulah’s car was parked there.
She had to be asleep, Averil told herself, but when she went around to the back door, in case Talulah was in the kitchen where she could be seen through the windows, there was no sign of her.
“I’m tired,” Mitch said, starting to cry. “Can we go home?”
“Yes. We’re going now,” she said, but when she stooped to pick up her son, she saw a dirt path leading from Talulah’s house toward Ellen’s house next door. And the weird thing was that there were footprints in it, and one set was far too big to belong to Ellen or Talulah.
Could she see herself living in Aunt Phoebe’s house?
As Talulah got ready for the estate sale the following morning, she studied the old Victorian with a more discerning eye. It had diamond-pane windows, tall ceilings, wainscoting and plenty of built-in cabinetry. It would look great, renovated in the modern farmhouse style, which would be the direction she’d take it if she and Brant were to move here. But she certainly hadn’t expected to be in the market for a home in Coyote Canyon, least of allthishome. What would Debbie and the rest of her family think of her buying Phoebe’s house and moving back?
She wasn’t about to ask them. Not until she’d been in Seattle for a few weeks and had the chance to determine if she was out of her mind for even considering such a big change. Brant hadn’t mentioned marriage—other than joking that he knew better than to propose—so she still wasn’t sure what their relationship would look like. Would they simply live together? If so, for how long? He’d mentioned that he wanted kids. So did she. What would happen when babies came along?
She couldn’t imagine they wouldn’t marry then. Brant was far too traditional for anything other than the standard nuclear family. She wasn’t stuck on keeping her own name. But the prospect of facing another wedding scared her. From the way he joked, it scared him, too.
With a quick glance at the clock on her phone—it was just after six—she finished arranging all the things she was putting up for sale. She was exhausted and running out of energy, but she was almost ready. Some of the more sentimental stuff she’d stored in the attic to keep it safe from would-be shoppers. She’d take those boxes to Billings and store them at Debbie’s for when her mother returned. Carolyn could go through it all then and dispose of whatever she didn’t want to keep. What didn’t sell and didn’t go in that special pile, Talulah would donate.
Brant had offered to help her today, but she couldn’t even consider that. She’d heard from both Averil and Jane last night and sent them a reply this morning, saying she’d been caught up in getting ready for the estate sale and gone to bed early. She felt that was a fairly safe cover, but if they came to see how the sale was going, and Brant was around, Talulah had little doubt they’d put two and two together.
She navigated to the text she’d sent them a few minutes earlier to see if they’d responded. Neither of them had. But it was very early yet...
Slipping her phone into the pocket on her yoga pants, she did a final walkthrough to make sure everything was tagged with a price. She should get a good turnout. She’d put up a sign advertising the sale on the community bulletin board near police headquarters, and she’d added the information to the town website, which had a calendar feature. Thanks to Mrs. Carrier, news of the sale had also been sent in a churchwide email. Knowing some folks might come early, eager to get first pick of whatever was available, she hadn’t even dared let Brant stay for more than a few minutes when he dropped her off this morning. There was no point in getting careless now, the day before she was to have dinner with the Gerharts.
He’d taken the time to fix the screen door before he left, however. And he hadn’t said anything about the botched job Paul had done. She was glad he didn’t mention Paul very often—other than when he was referring to their business.
Her phone dinged with a message. Brant was home. Knowing that they’d gotten away with one more night together helped her to relax. But she was glad he’d left when he did, because early birds began showing up less than an hour later, even though the sale didn’t officially start until eight.
She’d sold quite a bit of her aunt’s furniture and various small household items before Ellen pulled up, carrying to-go cups from the tiny but popular drive-through coffee shop that’d opened on Grove Street sometime after Talulah had moved away.
“How’s it going?” she asked as she sauntered up the walk wearing cutoff sweats, Birkenstocks and an Ahimsa T-shirt she’d turned into a midriff.
Talulah had already had coffee. But she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep, so she welcomed another cup. “Thank you,” she said as Ellen handed one to her and gestured toward the cars lining the drive. “It’s been steady.”
“You making money?”
“I’m doing okay. I priced everything on the low side so it would sell.” Talulah slid over and patted the extra space on the swing beside her. “Want to sit down?”
Ellen glanced toward the house. “You don’t need to watch what’s going on inside?”
There were several small groups milling through the various rooms on the main floor, spare bedrooms and basement, but the door stood open, and Talulah wasn’t going to follow people around, regardless. “No. Everything’s tagged. Anyone who wants to buy something knows where to find me.”
Ellen lowered her voice as she sat down. “What’s Brant up to today?”
“Washing his truck, doing laundry, that sort of thing.”
“Did you guys spend the night here?”
“No. We came back early this morning, though.”
A puzzled look appeared on Ellen’s face. “How early?”
“Five thirty or so,” Talulah replied. “Why?”
