Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(5)

Reluctantly, Noelle stood, and the kids showed her through the downstairs, Piper tagging behind, her toenails clicking on the floor. The large dining room had a braided rug anchored by a long oak table. Above it hung an ornate chandelier that had three unlit bulbs. A buffet lined one wall, but the focal point of the room was the picture window that overlooked the harbor. A pier jutted out into the water, and beyond that there was nothing but ocean.

“The kitchen’s through here,” Max said, leading the way.

Meridith entered the sunny yellow room. The countertops were durable Corian, and the linoleum was clean but worn. She saw a trickle of water and followed it to a puddle at the base of the dishwasher, which hummed loudly. She turned off the machine and grabbed a towel from the stove handle.

“It does that sometimes.” Noelle tipped her chin up.

“It does that all the time,” Max said.

“How would you know?”

“’Cause Mom was always complaining about it,” Max said.

“Shut up.”

“All right, that’s enough,” Meridith said. “I’ll look at it tomorrow.”

If it had been leaking for long, the floorboards were probably rotted. If the water had gotten back to the wall, they might be looking at mold.

After soaking up the water, she followed the kids up the back staircase to the second story. The stairwell was narrow and the wooden stairs were covered with a non-skid runner, but there was no banister. She started a mental to-do list.

“Our rooms are on this side of the house,” Max said.

The upstairs opened to a loft with five doorways and a hall. Another chandelier hung from the center, shedding golden light over seafoam green walls. The wide chair rail and baseboard looked to be on its tenth coat of white paint.

“This is my room,” said Max.

“And mine.” Ben scrambled up the bed’s ladder and dived onto the top bunk, making the whole unit shake.

“Careful,” Meridith said belatedly.

A few clothes littered the floor. The room smelled like dirty socks. Boat models lined a shelf, and a decorative oar hung above the top bunk.

“Somebody likes boats,” Meridith said.

“Me.” Max grinned. “Noelle’s room is next to ours, and here’s our bathroom.” Max nudged open a five-panel door and flipped the switch. Nothing happened.

“Sometimes it don’t work,” Max said.

“Doesn’t.” Noelle disappeared into her room.

Meridith flipped the bathroom switch off, then back on. Still dark. She’d have to check into that.

When Meridith peeked into the room, Noelle was leaning over a computer desk, her hand on the mouse. Her walls were cotton candy pink, and her drapes and bedspread were a delicate eyelet white fabric. The shaggy green rug between her bed and desk was the only item that said teenager.

“I like your rug.”

Noelle barely looked away from the screen.

“Anything from Uncle Jay?” Max asked Noelle, who shook her head no.

So that’s what she was checking. Can’t wait to get big sis out of the house.

That wasn’t fair. The children needed familiarity, and their uncle was the closest family they had.

“When’s he due back from his vacation?” Meridith asked.

“We don’t know,” Max said. “He runs around during the winter on his cool Harley.”

Noelle glared at her brother. “He travels through the south during slow season.”

Max shrugged. “That’s what I said. He e-mails when he finds a computer.”

“How often is that?” Meridith asked.

“As often as he can,” Noelle said.

“I miss him.” It was Ben’s soft voice coming from the top bunk. He was lying on his side, his knees drawn into his stomach. Meridith was sure the little boy missed more than his uncle.

“This was Mom and Dad’s room.” Across the hall, Max touched the doorknob reverently.

“Don’t, Max,” Noelle said.

Meridith wondered if the girl had eyes in the back of her head. She wandered into the only other bedroom. “Is this my room?” It was noticeably cooler inside. Maybe the vent was closed when the room wasn’t in use.

“Yeah. Rita put on fresh sheets and stuff,” Max said.

She had a view of the front yard from an old wooden window. A quilt hugged the full-size bed. A matching dresser stood across from it, bare except for a dainty ivory runner. A nightstand and chest rounded out the room. Rita had cleaned, if the lemony pine scent was any indication.

“It’s lovely.”

“Wanna see the guest wing?” Max asked.

“Sure.”

She followed him down a short wide hall, leaving Ben and Noelle. Pictures of the children dotted the walls, then the hall opened into a loft identical to the family wing.

“These two rooms are suites. They have their own bathrooms and everything. These two don’t.”

There was nothing but a short corridor dividing the family wing from the guest wing, which meant strangers frequently slept just down the hall. Unacceptable. It seemed negligent that their parents hadn’t secured the family wing. They needed a solid keyed entry at the hallway and another at the back stairway.

Meridith peeked into the rooms. Honey-stained floors stretched under quaint rugs. Each room had its own beachy color scheme, each bed covered by coordinating quilts and puffy pillows. Homey. Attractive.