Page 17 of The Husband Hour
Lauren looked at her sharply. “What is it?”
“I’m going to stay here for the summer too. I can be a buffer between you and Stephanie.”
“You and Dad are staying all summer?”
Beth hesitated. “Yes.”
“Why? You never spend the summer here. I mean, I don’t want to be a brat. It’s your house. It’s just…” She looked out the window hopelessly. “I’m used to being here alone. I need to be alone.”
Just rip the Band-Aid off, Beth told herself. “I want to spend the summer here with you because…” She paused, probably more dramatically than she should have. But really, she needed a moment. Once she said it aloud to Lauren, it would become real. “It’s our last summer with the Green Gable. We have to sell this house.”
By four in the afternoon Matt still hadn’t heard back from Craig. But the woman renting out the room told him he could stop by and see it before six.
“You’re late for a rental this season,” she said over the phone. “But lucky for you, I’m late to the game myself.”
Matt parked in her driveway and noted a wooden stairway on the side of the house leading to the upper floor. He hoped the room was decent because he liked the location.
He rang the front doorbell. No response. He rang again. When there was still no answer, he wondered if the bell was broken and knocked. Still nothing.
Fighting annoyance, he walked around to the back of the house, passing the wooden stairs and a deck overlooking the bay. He could hear music playing. Nina Simone?
A woman was bent over a table painting a plank of wood with a wide brush. She seemed to be in her sixties and had cocoa-colored skin and a short salt-and-pepper Afro. She wore a blue smock and lots of beaded necklaces in reds and corals.
“Um, Ms. Boutine?”
Startled, she dropped her brush. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Matt. We just spoke on the phone about the room?”
“Oh, heavens. I lost track of time. And I have a party to get to!” She wiped her hands on the smock and held one out to shake. “Henriette Boutine. You can call me Henny. Follow me.”
She took him back to the side of the house.
“Are you an artist?” he said.
“It’s more of a craft,” she said, leading the way up the steps to a door on the second floor. “This stairway is an add-on. When my son finished college, he ended up back here for a year, and my late husband built this entrance for his privacy—and our sanity. But my son’s on the West Coast now and my husband passed, and here I’ve been, stuck with this eyesore staircase. But now it’s coming in handy. The Lord works in mysterious ways, right?”
“True,” Matt said. She opened the door to a large bedroom with a view of the bay. The space was decorated with eclectic bric-a-brac—a mason jar on the nightstand filled with shells, framed sand dollars on the wall, a smattering of wicker baskets. The sleigh bed was full-size and topped with a navy-blue comforter. Up above, a gently whirling ceiling fan. Behind the bed, a wooden sign in multiple hues of blue that read COTTAGE RULES: SAND. SUN. FUN.
He looked around for space to work and was pleased to see a small wooden desk in the corner.
“What do you think?” said Henny.
“The nightly rate is as listed?” he said.
“Yes. But I have to tell you, a couple is coming over tomorrow to see the room. So if you want it, I’m just letting you know it might not be available after tomorrow for about a week.”
“I would need it for about a week too.”
He glanced at his phone, willing Craig to call. If Craig came on board, his expenses would be covered. He didn’t want to front the cash so early, but he also didn’t want to lose the place. As was his habit, he took the gamble.
“I’d like it.”
“Really? You’re my first renter. I didn’t think this whole thing would work. My friends think I’m crazy to be doing this.”
Matt smiled politely.
“Here are the keys. The door will lock behind you automatically so be sure to take them with you. I need the first night paid as a deposit.”
