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“Dude.” Nathan tugged his hoodie back over his head. “Can’t even . . .” He left the rest unsaid as he fished his phone out of his back pocket and sank his face back into the screen.
Bennett’s chest tightened. Had the kid been serious? He looked back at the pink chair rail. Could Bennett live with that kind of visual assault every single day for the next . . . who knew how long? He looked at Hazel, hoping that for some unknown reason, she’d be able to help. He found Hazel’s attention fixed on Nathan, and shockingly, she wore compassion.
“I think I might have a solution.” Leslie spoke after a taut void had filled the house. “I know Bennett said Gemma could take her first pick of rooms, but . . .” She waved for them to follow her. Her cowboy boots made a soft clunking sound as she led them to the stairs, and then the click became sharper as she walked up the painted wood risers.
Bennett cringed. Man. Stripping that awful yellow paint to uncover the natural wood was going to be brutal. His knuckles already crawled with the dry itch that came from hot water, paint stripper, and a hard grip on a scraper for days on end, and that was just from the thought of it.
They reached the second floor—and Bennett’s guess had been accurate. It was more of a loft than a true second story. Bennett hunched his shoulders and ducked his head to accommodate his over-six-foot frame to this less-than-six-foot ceiling. Leslie motioned for them to file through the door on the right.
Tie-dye.
The room was like a 1980s tie-dyed shirt. Colors spiraled on all four walls, and a disc ball hung in the center. Nathan lowered his phone and stepped into the middle while he gawked up at the ceiling and then the walls.
A slow, Jim Carey–Grinch-like grin crawled over his face. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”
Gemma, not willing to step foot into that madhouse of visual cruelty, popped her fists on her hips. “Nathan, what in the world is wrong with you?”
He shot that grin—wider still—over his shoulder and winked at his sister. “Can you imagine Dad letting me do this?”
“Not on this side of death.”
“Heh, heh.” Nathan returned his broad smile to the shiny ball in the middle of the room. “Exactly.”
Ah. Suddenly Bennett understood perfectly.Whatever Dad wants, I want the opposite.He knew that sentiment all too well.
“I want it,” Nathan proclaimed.
“It’s yours.” Gemma shook her head. “I don’t want to be caught dead in that sicko mess.”
“All the more reason,” Nathan said.
Leslie met Bennett’s appreciative glance with a smile. “The other upstairs room is across the hall.” She pointed.
Gemma spun around to investigate. Bennett followed, and Hazel waited between the two rooms at the top of the stairs.
The second bedroom was the same size, same basic layout, with a dormered window facing the opposite direction. But the walls were merely the Pepto pink that had had its way with the first floor.
Gemma blew out a dramatic breath. “We can paint it, right, Bennett?”
“First thing.” Bennett nodded.
“There’s some wallpaper at the Pantry you might look at,” Leslie said. “Some really soft, pretty patterns. Mama B has good taste.”
Gemma looked past Bennett and at Hazel. “Is that true?”
“I think so.” Hazel propped one hand on the doorframe. “Her daughter, Janie, was always into trendy magazines and stuff. And her café is pretty cute. You could talk to her. I think she’d be thrilled to help.”
This time Gemma’s cautious look met Bennett’s.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Whatever you want, Gem. We’ll make it home for you. And I’d bet Hazel’s right—Janie would lend a hand, and you would like her.”
Gemma nodded slowly as she wandered toward the window that faced east. “At least the fall trees are pretty.”
Hazel walked into the room and stopped beside Gemma at the six-paned window. “You have a good view.” She tapped the upper right-hand pane. “See that dip in the land right there?”
Gemma nodded.
“That’s Elk Creek. The sun will come up between the folds of hills that hem it in. It will be quite a morning show.”
