Page 76 of Bountiful
Sigh.
Even if I hadn’t been so busy, the vague answer would have been irritating. But Dave was my Kryptonite. “Okay,” I caved. “I’ll meet you at eleven. Before the lunch rush, Iguess.”
“Thanks, gorgeous.” He repeated the address and we hung up. And an hour later I drove up the hill toward town. If I hadn’t been in a hurry, it would have made a lovely ten-minutewalk.
The address he’d sent me belonged to a single family house on the hill situated between the river and the tiny downtown area. It was only a mile from my coffee shop. When I pulled my aging car into the driveway, Dave stood beside his rental car, talking to two people. One was Mrs. Godfrey, a real estate agent friend of my mother’s. The other was a man wearing a tool belt. A van was parked at the curb.Karl’s Constructionit read ontheside.
It was allveryodd.
“Hi,” I said warily as I stepped out. “What are we, uh,doinghere?”
Dave beckoned me over. “I need you to take a quick peek inside this house.” He pointed at the white one with a long porch on the front. “And also that one.” He pointed at its neighbor—a brick Tudor with a peakyroofline.
“Why, exactly?” I wondered aloud. Mrs. Godfrey beamed and the contractor just lookedbored.
“You have to pick one, so I can let the contractor know,” Dave said. “Both housesneedwork.”
“The colonial needs a new kitchen,” Mrs. Godfrey put in, as if her opinion was useful right now. “New counter tops and appliances, atleast.”
“And I don’t like the electrical in there.” The contractor jerked a thumb at the white house. “Gonna need an upgrade if you want a dual fuel range.” He looked at me as if I knew what he was talkingabout.
I really didn’t enjoy being confused, and my natural response was to get snippy. “David,” I barked. “Come here a second.” I marched out of earshot of his new friends and over to a nice lilac bush in front of theTudor.
He followed me, and when I stopped, he put his hands on my shoulders. “Sorry, Z. I didn’t know everyone would show up at once. But I need you to take a look at these two houses andpickone.”
“Why?” My pulse fluttered, because it sounded like Dave was planning to buy a house in Vermont. Although that couldn’t be right. The man got paid a lot of money to play hockey in Brooklyn. But my foolish heart wished for itanyway.
He didn’t help matters by stepping closer to me and giving my shoulder muscles a squeeze. I looked up into his green eyes at close range and held mybreath.
“For you,” he said, in a low voice. “And Nicole. You said you were looking for a house on the way into town. With a yard. There are only two houses for sale that fit that description.Thesetwo.”
Wait.
“For me?” I squeaked. “I’m not in the market to buy a house right now.” Maybe five years from now I could afford to think about it.Notnow.
Dave stood back, and I lost his broad palms on my shoulders. “You know I have to go back to New York in a few weeks. So we need to do this sooner rather thanlater.”
“Dowhatnow?” I said, losing my battle with patience. “I can’t just buy a house today because you got the urge to think over my real estateissues.”
“I’m buying the house,”hesaid.
“Why?Forwho?”
“For you and Nicole!” He squinted at me as if maybe I’d lost a few brain cells thismorning.
I hadn’t, but I might if he didn’t start making more sense. He couldn’t just buy someone a house. “When you asked me what I needed from you, I don’t remember mentioning ahouse.”
“But youdidmention it. You said you were looking for a new place, just like these. And it’s a simple decision, okay? Because there are only two. Personally, I think Number 12 has the better yard. But if you have a thing for fireplaces, Number 14 has three of them. You’ll have to make up your mind in the next week, so the contractor can get the place ready for you. He had acancellation.”
“He had a cancellation,” I repeated in a brittlevoice.
“Right.” He crossed his big arms and stared down at me. “Would you please look at the houses? Silly me, I thought you mightenjoyit.”
Bitch mode kicked into a higher gear. Because I would enjoy looking at houses, if it didn’t meanowinghim. My heart thumped speedily against my rib cage, and I fought to downshift from bitch to grump. And didn’t quite manage it. “Fine,” I snapped. “Show me,already.”
“The previous owneropened up the kitchen to the dining room, converting this to a lovely family floorplan,” Mrs. Godfrey gushed as I walked around the pretty space onceagain.
Both houses had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Tons of space for one prickly woman and her toddler. First we’d toured the white colonial. As advertised, the kitchen was about thirty years out of date. But the Tudor was lovely inside, with cozy family spaces and a big cherry tree with a swing in the backyard. Like astorybook.
