Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(46)

“Nobody gets through the years without a ton of pain, you know?” And then David yelled at him. “Oh. Please,” he said, opening his mouth for a fish. He chewed and smiled. “You’re going to get so sick of the good manners here. It gets old.”

The door to the bar opened and Cheryl Creighton stuck her head in. “Jack, we’re all done over at the house and I’m afraid we filled up your Dumpster. The house isn’t how it should be, but it’s cleaned up some. Let me leave you a key. If anyone needs to use it, just let me know, huh? Mel’s got my number. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it yet. But really—”

“House?” Dan said. “Trailer? Condo? Room? Shed? Lean-to?”

“Cheryl’s house is empty,” Mel said. “She says it’s not in good shape.”

“Would you let me see it?” Dan asked.

She frowned. “Listen, it’s falling apart. It’s—”

“Does it have hot water? A toilet that flushes? Lights that turn on and off?”

“And that’s about all.”

“Would you let me see it? Is it for rent?”

Cheryl frowned slightly. “Listen, first of all, you’re not going to need much of a look to see you’d be better off sleeping in your truck. And second, I’ll only let someone stay there on a recommendation from the Sheridans. I don’t really care if the thing burns down, but I don’t want anything bad to happen in that neighborhood because I let some riffraff in.”

Dan smiled slightly. “First of all, I am sleeping in my truck. And second, I could maybe get a reference from my boss. He seems to like me.”

“I’ll vouch for him, Cheryl. If he thinks he wants to rent it,” Jack said.

This caused a look of surprise to take over Dan’s face, but it disappeared as David was shoving a Goldfish into his mouth.

Cheryl thought about it for a second. Then she shrugged. “Well, at least it’ll go cheap if you’re interested. But you won’t be interested. Come on, let’s get this over with. I want to get home.” And she turned and left.

Dan stood and hefted David toward Jack. “Well, gee. Maybe my luck is turning around.”

“If I vouch for you,” Jack said, “I’ll be watching you.”

Dan laughed. “Oh golly, Jack. I just wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dan got in his truck and followed Cheryl the short couple of blocks to the neighborhood. She had three other people besides herself in an extended cab truck—one guy, two women. The truck bed was loaded with what appeared to be broken-down furniture, covered with a tarp and tied down. He supposed if they were cleaning out the house, she had needed some help.

He looked first at the neighborhood in general—it wasn’t upper middle class, that was for sure. The houses were small, most in poor repair. But there were a few that stood out and looked as if they were maintained with care, kept immaculate with tidy flower beds and healthy yards. When Cheryl pulled up in front of an old house, some of the flaws were instantly apparent—the porch was missing boards and was about to fall down altogether, one window was covered with plastic kept in place by duct tape and the roof was about half-rotten shingles. Well, he wouldn’t be getting up there. But he worked for a builder who had roofers—maybe he could get a discount to keep the rain off his head.

Inside was actually better than he expected. It didn’t smell great, but all that would take was soap and water. He stepped right into a living room/dining room—the walls needed plaster and paint, the floors needed resurfacing, that window needed glass, the lighting fixtures were ancient and therefore so was much of the wiring. But there was a large stone fireplace on one wall, large windows on the other. A door off the dining area probably led to the bedroom.

The kitchen was small, barely room for a little table and four chairs, about 1950s vinyl decor. The linoleum on the floor was scarred, cracked, peeling and permanently stained. A couple of cupboard doors were missing and the stove and refrigerator were at least as old as he was. There seemed to be a room behind the kitchen, but the add-on was sloppy—it wasn’t level with the rest of the house. Dan stepped carefully across that uneven chasm and pushed the door open.

“There’s a larger bedroom off the dining room,” Cheryl said. “Bathroom’s right there.” She pointed to the right of the kitchen.

He peeked first into the bathroom—nice size with a newly installed, as of about fifteen years ago, perfectly hideous shower. It was more like a large pan on the floor with a drain in it, a disgusting-looking shower curtain on a circular rod attached to the wall. He tilted his head and frowned as he studied the contraption.

As if she could read his mind, she said, “My mother was a very large woman and couldn’t handle the tub, so my dad, who is obviously not very handy with things like this, put in a shower for her. It’s a terrible-looking thing, I know. And it needs a new curtain, but honestly, I never expected anyone to want to look at it. And when you get down to it, I don’t have the money to make things nicer around here. It’s as is.”

“Is there a washer and dryer, by any chance?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. They still work, too. Out back on the porch. It’s not heated out there, but it’s enclosed. And the water heater is only a few years old, so that should make it a while.”