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“Yes, that’s me.”
“Ahhh, I know her place well,” she chimes. “I was wondering what you would decide to do with the property. I’m so sorry for your loss. Olivia was a very welcomed member of our community. Such a shame she’s gone.”
I press my lips into a hard line, not really knowing how to open my mouth without turning into a blubbering mess. “She was,” is all I manage to get out before swallowing over the lump in my throat and trying to get back on track. “So, the plan is to sell, though it does need a little work. It’s very dated compared to what’s available on the current market so I was hoping to get your advice on what you think would be best. I mean, I don’t exactly have the funds to gut the property and start fresh, but I’m pretty good with a paintbrush.”
“When were you hoping to get the property on the market?”
“As soon as possible,” I admit. “I have a lot going on back in New York, so the sooner the better.”
“No problem at all,” she says, sounding all too cheery about the fact we’re talking about selling my family home. “I’ll put you on the schedule for mid-January and we’ll go from there.”
“Woah. What do you mean mid-January? I was hoping to get the property listed in the next week or so and be home for Christmas, or at least New Year’s.”
Estelle laughs. “By all means, dear. Fly home for Christmas and New Year’s, enjoy yourself, however, the property won’t be on the market. This isn’t New York where they work themselves to death. We’re in Blushing, and here, we close for the holiday period. Besides, there’s really no rush. Property in Blushing isn’t in high demand, they’re not flying off the shelves like hotcakes. Depending on the upgrades you’re able to achieve and the price you’d like to get, I suspect we won’t be closing on a sale until at least mid-year.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “That long?”
“Yes, dear. However, you don’t need to remain in Blushing. You can head back home after your renovations, and I’ll be in contact with any updates or potential buyers. Just leave me a key for property inspections and we’ll be good to go.”
“Oh, that easy?”
“It certainly is. The hard part is signing on the dotted line and having to say goodbye.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” I mutter.
Estelle goes on to give me all her advice on what updates she thinks would be beneficial for sale, and as my gaze sails over the multiple lists stuck to the fridge, I’m pleased to find that I’ve got most of them accounted for. Fresh paint. Carpets. New fixtures in the bathroom, laundry, and kitchen. Light fittings. And of course, flooring.
The kitchen cupboards are a little outdated, but I’m not exactly made of money, and replacing the kitchen isn’t something that’s going to happen, but Estelle suggests that replacing the cupboard doors and giving them modern handles would make a world of difference.
Ending the call with Estelle, I grab my lists off the fridge and manically add her suggestions to them before I forget everything she said, and by the time I’m done, I realize that these renovations aren’t going to be as simple as I thought. There’s a lot to do, and there’s no chance in hell I’ll have it all done before Christmas.
I suppose for the first time in six years, I’ll be spending Christmas in Blushing.
8
BLAIR
Rena’sfaceappearsonmy laptop as I scroll through endless paint colors, all of which are doing nothing but giving me one hell of a headache.
“Ugh. You look like shit,” Rena tells me from her bathroom as she works on her makeup.
“I feel like shit.”
“Sick? Hormonal? Or just a bad day?”
“A seriously bad day,” I tell her. “Turns out, the one and only real estate agent in Blushing will be taking the holidays off, so I won’t be able to get the house on the market until at least mid-January.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, on the bright side, that gives you plenty of time to get all the renovations done and bring your nana’s place into the twenty-first century.”
I roll my eyes and let out a heavy sigh, letting her see just how unhelpful her comment was. “It also means that I’ll be stuck in Blushing for Christmas and New Year’s.”
“And?” she prompts. “It’s not like you had plans anyway. I don’t recall a single Christmas in the last five years where you haven’t spent the day working.”
“Yeah, but—”
