Holding On (16 page)

“Here,” Daniel slicked her hair back and turned it twice, then bent it upward. He reached over and took the hairclip and clamped it onto her thick wavy locks. “How’s that?”

Marienne turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Ella taught me.” He left his hands on her neck, massaging gently. “Plus I’ve seen you do it two thousand times.” He kissed her shoulder.

“I really wish we were going with you.”

****

Daniel left after the kids were asleep. He figured there would be less traffic if he drove late at night, and he was right. Once he crossed the Tappan Zee Bridge, the roads were nearly empty.

Arnold had told him that he could arrive any time. He and his wife were away for the weekend, so Daniel wouldn’t be waking anyone. He said he’d leave the door unlocked, but in case he forgot there was a key in the flowerpot on the back porch. “Are you sure it’s safe to leave a key like that?” Daniel had asked.

Arnold laughed. “This is New Hampshire, not New Jersey, I assure you it’s perfectly safe.”

Daniel couldn’t quite imagine someplace where you don’t need to lock your doors at night. It sounded nice. Weird, but nice.

By the time he arrived, it was almost three in the morning. He was glad the house was empty, and he wouldn’t be disturbing anyone. Arnold’s driveway was at least a half-mile long, winding through dense woods.
No wonder it’s safe to leave it unlocked. No one can even tell it’s here.

He parked in front of the garage and got his bag out of the back seat. Stretching his legs felt wonderful after the long drive. He arched his back to get a kink out of his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the sky. It was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

Daniel had long been a fan of stargazing, but he’d never seen such a clear night in his life. Without any city lights nearby the sky appeared black, not a cloud in sight. All that showed were countless shimmering stars. Not just individual ones, but clusters that seemed to blur together in wispy streaks. It looked like the planetarium shows he’d watched as a child.
Marienne is going to love this. Our kids are going to grow up with this as their night sky.

Daniel walked up the front stairs, but couldn’t bring himself to simply open the door, unannounced. He rang the doorbell first and jumped when a cat pounced onto the stoop alongside him.

The house was dark, and no one answered the bell, so Daniel tried the handle. Sure enough it opened. He stepped inside as the cat scooted past him. “I sure hope you’re Arnold’s cat.”

Daniel flipped the light switch. The cat jumped onto the couch in the front room and began licking its paw. A note was taped to the mirror on the coat rack.

Daniel,

Make yourself at home. The guest room is at the top of the stairs on the left. Help yourself to whatever you’d like in the fridge. Cynthia left you muffins for breakfast. I trust you can figure out how to operate the coffeemaker. The realtor dropped off some papers for you to look at. They’re on the kitchen table. Hope you find a great house. Sorry we couldn’t be there to see you. We’re looking forward to having you up here full time.

Arnold

Daniel put his bag down and headed to the kitchen. He was relieved to see food and water bowls on a paw print shaped placemat. “Oh, good, you do live here.” The cat trotted past him and began to drink.

The rest of the kitchen made Daniel laugh out loud. Pig salt and pepper shakers. Pig clock. The potholders, kitchen towels, vase, napkin holder, all pigs. Even the knobs on the cabinets were silver pigs. He pulled out a chair and took a seat. The bright pink cookie jar in the center of the table was a shiny, round pig. He read the message scrawled across its head: Go ahead, make a pig of yourself. He chuckled as he lifted the pig’s head. The scent of Oreos wafted out of the jar, and he helped himself to four.

As he munched he opened the yellow envelope and flipped through the listings. Some were houses he and Marienne had seen online, but others were new.
How on earth am I going to describe these adequately to Marienne?
It seemed insane for him to be making such an enormous decision without her.

He glanced at the pig clock and realized how late it was. The realtor was picking him up at nine in the morning, and he knew he needed to get some sleep. He made his way up the stairs, looking at the photos that lined the wall. Arnold’s wedding photos, showing a much younger, thinner version of the man Daniel had known the past decade. Photos of his children at all different ages. At the top of the stairs was a baby picture, most likely Arnold’s new grandchild.

This is the hallway I hope to have some day. A wall full of memories of my wife and kids, and their kids.

It was all he’d ever wanted, but something he’d never had. A big family.

He flopped down on the bed in the guest room, breathing in the fresh night air that wafted in through the open window, and was asleep within seconds.

****

Daniel awoke to the sound of birds chirping. Sunlight streamed through the window, across his face. For a moment he had no idea where he was. He stretched and remembered. He squinted at the bedside clock. It was only eight in the morning. Yawning broadly he gave strong consideration to the idea of going back to sleep for another half hour, but he decided he’d better get up and try to be presentable when the realtor arrived.

He showered and trotted down the stairs. Arnold was right. Daniel figured out the coffeemaker without any trouble. He found the fridge stocked with half and half and a bowl of fruit. He grabbed a handful of grapes and sat at the table while he waited for the coffee to brew.

The house looked much different in daylight. Bright and airy. The rear deck was surrounded by flowers, and there was an enormous garden in the back yard, complete with rows of apple trees along one side.

This is amazing
.

The plate of muffins beckoned to him from the counter. He lifted the domed cover, and his stomach growled. Besides the Oreos and grapes he hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. He bit into the muffin, feeling its buttery texture melt on his tongue. Lemon poppy seed, filled, to his surprise, with raspberry jam.
Marienne is going to want this recipe
. If Arnold’s wife could bake that well she and Marienne would already have something in common. He hoped they could be friends. Knowing how worried Marienne was about fitting in made Daniel feel that much more nervous about the move. He wanted her to be happy.

His phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh really?” Marienne’s voice floated through the phone. “What about me?”

“Lots of things, but primarily that you’d love to have one of the muffins I’m eating.”

“What?”

“Arnold’s wife left them for me. They’re wonderful. Not as good as yours, of course.”

“I let you out of my sight for a few hours, and you’re already raving about another woman’s muffins. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“I have some ideas….” He was thrilled to hear her in such a good mood. “How are the kids? Any better?”

“Much. Ella says her ear is barely sore, so the antibiotic must have kicked in, and Drew actually slept five straight hours last night.”

“Wonderful. That’s about an hour more than I slept, and I’m not even teething.”

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, to concentrate on her voice. He pictured her in their kitchen, head tilted to the side, phone cradled between her chin and shoulder.

“That’s what I figured. I called to make sure you got up in time for the realtor.”

“I’m ready and waiting.” He poured himself coffee and watched as the cream made tie-dye swirls in the mug. Sugar….he looked around for a second before spotting the pig-shaped sugar bowl. “You and the kids will get a big kick out of Arnold’s pig-themed kitchen. Apparently one of them has a thing for porcine porcelain.”

Marienne laughed. “Good to know.”

“The realtor left me some photos to look at. They must be houses that aren’t online yet.”

“Take lots of pictures if anything looks promising.”

“I will. I’ll email them to you as soon as I get back from looking.” He took a sip of coffee then went back to work on the muffin.

“Find us a good house, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Marienne turned the volume on her computer up so she would hear the minute her email notified her of new messages. Daniel had called and said he’d be sending her pictures of the houses he’d seen. She fed Ella an early dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup then settled her in with her coloring supplies. Marienne scrubbed the stovetop, looking over her shoulder every two minutes to check and make sure her inbox wasn’t flashing. She struggled to remember every detail about their trip to Hanover, what the streets looked like, what stores they had driven past. The ding of her email sent her flying to the computer. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and sat down, one leg tucked beneath her.

Two messages from the realtor and six from Daniel, all with attachments. One of Daniel’s was entitled Read Me, so she opened it first.

I’ve sent you photos of each of the houses I liked best. Call me when you’ve looked at them so we can discuss.

Love you,

D

She clicked on Constance’s emails and opened the listings to read the technical details. Since the houses weren’t multiply listed yet, there wasn’t even a picture, just room dimensions and a description.
This tells me next to nothing
,
I need to see it.

She opened Daniel’s next message and found four attachments. Lovely tree-lined street, huge family room with fireplace, tiny kitchen with outdated appliances, small back yard.
Wouldn’t be my first choice.

The next one had another five attachments. The house looked very close to the street but the interior was beautiful. Large rooms with high ceilings, including a big kitchen.
Looks nice.

The third had taken longest to load. Marienne noticed there were six attachments and Daniel had written a note that there were more in the following message.
This must be the one he likes best.

She held her breath as she clicked the first image. The grey clapboard and black shutters were the backdrop for a beautifully landscaped front yard. Azalea and rhododendron bushes lined one side of the twisting driveway, and shrubs of various shapes and colors adorned the dark mulch in front of the house. A cobblestone path led the way to the granite front steps. No front porch, though.

She clicked through the rest of the photos. Two story inlaid stone fireplace in the family room. Wood burning stove in the living room. Enormous kitchen with smoky grey granite counters, cherry wood cabinets, a six-burner gas cooktop and double wall oven.
I’ve always wanted wall ovens.
The bedrooms were large and each had a unique feature, an alcove with built-in bookcases, a bay window with what appeared to be a built-in toy box beneath it. The master bedroom had a tray ceiling and a dark wood ceiling fan.

She moved on to the next batch of photos wondering what else he’d wanted to show her. The bathrooms had been remodeled and featured deep tubs, including a jetted one in the master bath. The back yard was surrounded by towering trees, and there were already tire swings, plus what appeared to be a small play cottage. The last photo was taken through French doors and showed some sort of enclosed porch.

Her heart beat faster as she dialed Daniel’s cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

“Did you get the pictures?” He sounded excited.

“I just looked at them.”

“What do you think?”

“They all look nice, but the last one, the one you sent the most photos of, looked the nicest.”

She heard him sigh. “It’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” She wondered what had him so sold.

“The house was built in the 1920s, so it has a very classic feel to it, but it was a custom home, so it has all these quirky little features. I have more photos I didn’t send, but there’s a butler’s pantry off the kitchen, there’s a fifth bedroom upstairs, and there are two extra rooms downstairs that could be offices. One is a den now, and the other is being used as a sewing room, but it would make a beautiful studio for you. There’s a whole wall of windows looking out at the garden in the back yard. Did I send you a picture of the garden?”

He was talking so fast she could barely keep up. “No, I didn’t see the garden yet.”

“I’ll send that now. And the studio shot.”

She could hear the keys clicking on his laptop as he typed. She wished she could be there, looking over his shoulder rather than hearing his voice over the phone.

“On its way.” He took a breath. “There are built-ins of some sort in every bedroom. You saw the French doors?”

“Yes, is that an enclosed porch?”

“It’s something they call an all-season room. It’s basically a sun room, the top and sides are entirely glass. I guess it stays warm enough for part of the year, but for the cooler months there’s a potbelly stove, and you can heat the room with that. It’s right off the dining part of the kitchen. You’d love it.”