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"Hello," an older woman said, as she came around the counter with a suspicious and cool smile. She was quite tall, with dark hair and deep-set brown eyes. "I'm Marian. Are you a friend of Leo's?"
"As of a few hours ago. I'm Decker Hayes. I'm renting the apartment upstairs."
"Oh, you're the contractor. It's nice to meet you. I'm Marian Lassen, the assistant manager. I'm here most days, so I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot of you."
"Judging by how good this salad is, I'll be eating here a lot."
Marian smiled. "It's the best place in town."
Chloe returned with Leo's pasta and his chili. "I hope it's not too spicy," she said. "Sometimes Gus gets a little heavy-handed."
He scooped up a spoonful. "I like it spicy. This is perfect."
Chloe smiled. "I'm glad you like it. Gus and his sister Amy are my cooks, and they're exceptionally good. A lot of other restaurants in town have tried to lure them away, but they've been incredibly loyal."
"How long have you been running this place?"
"I've been working here since I was sixteen and running it since I was twenty-six. That's when my former in-laws moved to Florida. Before that, Joan was the manager and Jerry was the cook. But after Jerry had health issues, they retired somewhere warm and put me in charge."
"That was an enormous responsibility to take on."
"It was, but I was working here all the time, anyway. My ex-husband is a soldier, and he was deployed a lot. This place became my second home, and the employees are family to me. I couldn't run this place without them, especially Marian. She has really helped me keep this place going since Leo was born. Anyway, what do you think about the house? Are you interested in the job?"
"I am, but I need to go back in the morning and dig a little deeper. Then I can give you an estimate. Joel said he could help me find some day laborers, maybe a tile specialist to help with the bathrooms and kitchen. I can do it all, but a one-man show will take longer."
"I'd like it done as soon as possible."
"Which works for me, since I have a limited amount of time available."
"I wish I'd known that Eleanor was living like this. I could have offered to help her get organized."
"I'm surprised it didn't get around that she had a problem."
"I have to believe she never let her friends come inside. She doesn't have any relatives. I contacted her attorney after she passed away. He said she didn't leave any instructions about her personal property, and he wasn't aware of any relatives. What little money she had went to a local shelter for women and kids. But maybe there's someone he didn't know about. Someone who would want some of her things."
"If not, I'm sure there must be a junk service in town."
She frowned. "I can't just hire someone to clean it all out."
"Why not?"
"It feels too cold, like none of the things she treasured mattered at all. I need to at least look through what she left behind, see if there's anything of value."
"Her things might have mattered to her, but she's gone," he said. "That might sound cold, but it's the truth. To anyone else, her things will probably have no significance."
"If I could find a close friend, some of her personal things might be meaningful to them."
He thought she was about to do a lot of work for nothing, but that was her choice. Clearly, she had a big, kind heart. She was running a restaurant and two properties for people who were not in town, not to mention raising a child. Now, she wanted to find someone to give her tenant's things to. She was too nice, which was probably why she looked so tired. And he wanted to ease some of her burden.
"Why don't we meet at the house tomorrow after I look around?" he suggested. "We can talk about exactly what you want and look at what's there. Do you have time?"
"I could meet you after the breakfast rush tomorrow, around ten-thirty. Leo will be at preschool and daycare until three, so I have a few hours."
"That works for me."
She tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear. "Maybe things will look better tomorrow."
"I've often found that to be true," he said. But in this case, he felt her optimism was probably misguided.
