1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [94]
Olivia wasn’t surprised. The owner’s manual was a good hundred pages thick. She’d read shorter novels.
“The grounds at the complex were so lovely, too.” Charlotte turned the conversation away from the stove and back to the retirement complex.
“Mom, are you talking about Stanford Suites again?” Not that Olivia was complaining…
Charlotte nodded and looked at Ben. “They have a container garden there. Bess told me. The zucchini for the zucchini bread she sold me came from the garden. And the green tomatoes for the mincemeat, as well.”
“Really?” Ben raised his eyebrows.
Olivia reached for her car keys. It no longer seemed necessary to say anything. Her mother was doing all the talking.
“So you liked Stanford Suites?” Ben asked Charlotte.
“Yes…I did.”
Ben caught Olivia’s eye. “Charlotte, do you feel we should live there? I thought you were dead set against it.”
“Well, I was, but after being there today and meeting Bess’s friends, I think I might like it. I never believed I would, but I can see the advantages to us. And really, Ben, nothing will change other than our address.” She paused. “Bess said they have two openings coming up.”
Ben didn’t look nearly as convinced. “What about the house?”
Charlotte grew quiet. “I forgot about that.”
“Will and I may have a solution,” Olivia said, trying not to reveal how eager she was to tell them. She and Will had been talking about this all week.
Her mother and Ben turned to her. “You do?” her mother asked.
“Will wants to buy it from you.” This was the news her brother was supposed to be there to impart. Well, she’d have to do it for him.
“Will wants to move into this old house?”
“You can discuss the details with him. We planned to talk to you this afternoon, until he got called away,” she said.
“What about the apartment he fixed up at the gallery? Surely he doesn’t want to just abandon it after all the work he’s done there.”
“It won’t go to waste. In fact, he’s already got a potential renter.”
“Who?”
“Miranda Sullivan. She works at the gallery nearly full-time now, and she said she’d be happy to rent the space, which would be ideal.” This possibility had evolved during the past few days. Olivia was pleased by the growing closeness—professional and, she guessed, personal—between Miranda and her brother.
“It’d be a good solution for us,” Ben said thoughtfully.
“I know I’d feel much better about leaving the house if Will would buy it.” She chuckled. “You tell him, though, that he’ll have to get me another Christmas present—otherwise, I’m taking that new refrigerator.”
Twenty-Nine
“Come on, Dad, it’s Thanksgiving,” Jolene said. “You’re being a real drag.”
Bruce forced a smile. There’d been plenty of Thanksgivings with just him and his daughter before, but this year, without Rachel, was different. He’d picked up a precooked turkey with fixings at the grocery store, and everything was in the oven heating up. This wasn’t the kind of meal he wanted, but unfortunately it was the best he could do.
Jolene had set the table. She’d brought home a decorative papier-mâché pumpkin she’d made in art class, which served as the centerpiece. Using a white linen tablecloth and their good dishes, his daughter had gone to some trouble to make this a special event. He tried to show his appreciation, but his attempt had fallen decidedly short.
Jolene threw herself down on the sofa next to him and sighed. “It doesn’t feel right without Rachel, does it?”
He was shocked that his daughter was willing to admit it. “No. I wish she was here.” Despite Jolene’s unexpected concession, he braced himself for her backlash. But he didn’t really care; he was tired of pretending, of putting on a brave front. Every day was an effort without Rachel.
“Can we call her?” Jolene asked, shocking him again.
Bruce shook his head “She blocked all my numbers.”
“She didn’t block mine.”
Bruce stared at his daughter. “How do you know that?”
“She said