I watch as Mom tips her head to the side, clearly curious at his choice of words.
“We’re open until seven tonight; you should all stop by and celebrate,” Riley says, walking down the porch stairs. She smiles at Mom. “Happy Mother’s Day.”
“Thank you,” Mom says then looks at Jade. “Happy Mother’s Day to you, too.”
“Let’s check it out.” I take Mom’s hand.
“Will the owners mind?” Mom asks, voice shaking slightly as we head up the stairs. Rome. Hudson, CeCe, and Cora follow behind us.
She knows.
“Not sure.” Hudson steps around us and opens one of the wooden double doors. Rome opens the other.
As is the plan, I step into what one would call a quaint yet luxurious country lake cottage, but people like us, the Harts before my brothers became pro athletes, would drop the word quaint and admit it would be more than we ever dared dream of to live in a place like this.
If she had any questions before, they are being answered now.
To the left, the spacious living area is furnished with all the plush, overstuffed sofas draped in soft earth-toned throws that she added to one of many Pinterest boards that Mom and I have going. She and I were dreaming of the home we’d have once I finished school. A large stone fireplace’s flickering flames cast a warm glow across the room. Above, wooden beams cross the ceiling, adding a touch of rustic charm.
In the center of the room will sit a coffee table, if Mom wants one. The bare walls, a blank slate where I imagine she’ll hang pictures from the shops lining Main Street or ones she’ll take. The only exception is the large wooden plaque with the words, “Where Harts gather and love grows.”
She shakes her head and wipes away a tear with the hand not still holding tight to mine.
I lead her to the kitchen that has sleek granite countertops and custom-built cabinets, with maple finish that matches the beams. A farmhouse sink beneath a window offers a picturesque view of the lake, unobstructed by Hudson’s massive home. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts from a gleaming espresso machine nestled next to a row of polished copper cookware. Beside it are flowers with a card peeking out that says, “Welcome Home, Linda.”
More tears fall, this time hers and mine.
Beyond the kitchen, the dining area features a wooden table, surrounded by cushioned chairs, each one draped with a woven throw. Soft sunlight filters through lace curtains, casting patterns onto the hardwood floors below.
“I can’t find words.” She sniffs. “I?—”
“Find them after we’re done exploring your new home, yeah?” Rome suggests as he moves past us and heads toward the master bedroom.
Inside the master is a wrought iron bed, covered in white linens. The drapes are open, exposing the French doors leading to the side porch, offering another spectacular view of the lake. There’s the writing desk she’s dreamed of having in the corner and a vintage armoire that looks like the one I found on Pinterest and sent to them in our sibling group text we used while planning.
I look at Hudson, and he gives me a wink.
Another set of French doors leads to her en suite bathroom, with a soaker tub and separate shower. Inside the bathroom is also a walk-in closet.
Hudson nods back toward the kitchen. “Follow me.”
We pass the kitchen to the stairs, and he points up to the balcony of the second story. “There’s another master suite upstairs with a balcony, a smaller bedroom, and a second living area.” He opens the door under the stairs. “Half-bath here for guests.”
He looks at Roman, who stands by the bottom of the stairs, pulling the small ball of wood, called a newel cap, off the bottom post—newel post—and pulls out the deed. “This is yours.”
When she begins to sob, there’s not a dry eye in the house. Where Harts gather and love grows.
The parking lot is packed, but Hudson manages to find a place to park his massive Escalade.
“It’ a barn.” Roman chuckles.
“It’s a gambrel-roofed barn,” Hudson states as he opens his door and slides out. “Stick around here, and you’ll learn shit you never thought you needed to know.”
I look at Cora. “It’s a red barn.”
“With silos,” she adds as she moves to exit the third row.
“Silos?” I ask.