Page 103 of Summer Longing
“You look very dapper today, Clifford,” she said.
“I always dress up when I show houses for sale,” he said. “Although I give myself some sartorial leeway when I’m showing rentals. Glad you could join us, Ben.” Then, to Ruth: “I asked Santiago to meet us here too in case you have questions about what can be done in terms of renovation or additions.”
“Do you think it needs renovation?” she said.
“No. I think it’s perfection. But it’s your house,” he said with a wink.
“Well, we’ll see,” Ruth said, glancing at Ben.
They followed him half a block to a three-story Greek Revival, white clapboard with green shutters. It had a front portico and another porch to the left; there was a small cupola on the roof. The brick walkway was flanked by pink and blue hydrangeas.
“The house is named Blue Stone,” Clifford said, “after the tiles that used to line the walkway. Talk about curb appeal, am I right?”
Inside, the house had been modernized; there were wide entranceways between rooms and an open kitchen with granite counters and state-of-the-art appliances, yet it still had an informal, beachy feel to it. Upstairs, the four spacious bedrooms continued the low-maintenance vibe with paneled walls and French Country furniture. Ruth was already imagining her own decorative take on the interior. She would gloss it up just a bit but keep the overall character of the home.
“And the pièce de résistance, the backyard,” Clifford said.
A red-brick patio had been added to the house, topped with a vine-laced pergola. The foliage was lush and just a little wild. Behind the plants and flowers, in the very back of the lawn, a classic white gazebo.
Ruth let out a sigh. “It’s perfection, Clifford. It really is.”
“What’s the asking price?” said Ben.
With a flourish, Clifford produced a small notepad, jotted down some numbers, and passed the page to them both. Ben let out a low whistle.
“I’ll make a cash offer,” Ruth said. Why not? The house was breathtaking. She had the money. And the sooner she could move out of Shell Haven, the better. The truth about Mira’s maternity was eating at her more and more with every passing day.
“I like your style, Ruth Cooperman,” Clifford said.
Ben reached for her elbow. “May we have a word alone for a minute?”
“Of course! Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll go call Santiago to let him know his services will not be needed today.”
Ben walked from the porch into the sunlight and crossed the lawn to the gazebo. She followed him, jarred by the intrusive fantasy that this was their home, that they were spending a leisurely afternoon together. “You don’t like the house?” she said.
“It’s a great house. But that’s a lot of money, Ruth.”
“Well, what better way to spend it than on a home?”
“So you’re really doing this? You’re moving here?”
Give me a reason not to, she thought.“Looks that way,” she said.
Ben nodded, smiled, and said, “Well, then—congratulations. I’m happy for you, Ruth.”
She should have been happy too. Overjoyed. She would finally have what she’d set out looking for last winter: her retirement beach house. She remembered the frustration of arriving on that mid-May morning, not finding the keys in the Shell Haven mailbox, running around town like a lost tourist. But now she belonged. She had friends, she had a renewed relationship with her daughter, and soon she would have a home to call her own.
That would have to be enough.
Olivia was elbow-deep in oyster cages when she remembered she was supposed to try to meet her mother on Nickerson Street. “What time is it?” she asked Marco. He consulted his waterproof watch and informed her of an hour much later than she’d thought.
“You tiring out on me already?” he said, teasing her.
She told him about her mother’s house hunt, that she was afraid she would overpay for something because she was so eager to have her own home. “I want to try to make it in time before she does something impulsive.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Marco said. “Some of the asking prices for these houses are outrageous.”
They wrapped up early, leaving a bunch of cages unchecked. To save time, Marco suggested she just shower at his parents’ house. “No one’s around. They took Jaci to visit friends in Truro.”
