The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(42)
When she reached the table, Ryan refilled her glass and then retreated to small talk. “So, do you and Claire have your eye on any interesting projects?”
“We’re submitting a bid for a substantial renovation on Hightop Road. I need to hire another set or two of hands before we can really grow.”
He nodded, staring into his cup again. Then he glanced at her with a funny look in his eyes. “Gretta Weber told my mom she’s putting her mom’s house on the market soon.”
“Really?” She sat forward, alert, her heart thumping back to life after its postdance slump. He knew that Wedgewood-blue cottage at the end of his street had long been her favorite house in town. “When?”
“Soon, I guess. Gretta wants to move her mom into a nursing home because she can’t take care of her there. Dementia . . .”
“That’s sad.” Steffi’s sympathy for the Webers, while genuine, quickly took a back seat to her interest in getting her hands on that house. “I wonder if they’ve already got a broker, and how much they want.”
She doubted she could afford it for herself, but maybe she could remodel and flip it.
When she and Ryan had been younger, they’d agreed that, if they ever had the chance, they’d make it their home. She’d walked past it a zillion times, always noting things she would change. Move the garden here. Put in flagstone pavers there. Add a flower box beneath the second-story dormer. Build an in-ground fire pit. The sweetness of those youthful dreams throbbed painfully in her chest, the same way indulging in sugary icing, while delicious, produced a toothache. Ryan and she had been starry-eyed about their future with the zeal reserved for teen invincibility.
Those old dreams were dead, but she might at least have a hand in making the place sparkle.
“No idea. It can’t be in great shape, though. I doubt Mrs. Weber did much maintenance in the past decade. In fact, I bet they’ve never updated the place once in all these years.”
“Just imagine it cleaned up.” Her eyelids grew heavy with pleasure from the thought of restoring it. “That’s one of my favorite front porches of all time.”
The front door sat on the right side of the home, with the wide porch running to the left along the front. It had two thick white columns, a porch swing, and French doors that probably led directly into the living room. The whole place looked to be no more than twelve hundred square feet. A story and a half, with a shed-style dormered roofline, and ivy climbing up one side. She’d pictured so many lazy nights with Ryan on that swing.
“You should buy it,” Steffi blurted out.
His brows rose. “I can’t buy anything until my divorce is final. At this rate, mediation expenses, alimony, and day care will likely eat up the equity I got out of my last house.”
“I’m sorry, Ryan.” She sipped her beer, her mind torn between fantasies about the cottage and consolation for Ryan’s dilemma. She couldn’t let go of her idea. “But seriously, how perfect would it be for you to be on the same street as your mom? Emmy could hop off the bus and hang with your parents for a couple of hours, which means no day care. And you’d be waterfront and easy biking distance to the marina.”
His expression turned glum, but he kept quiet.
“You don’t agree?” she asked.
“In my experience, it’s better not to waste time wishing for things you can’t have, that’s all.” A shallow grin appeared before he gestured with one hand. “But you go ahead and dream away if it makes you happy.”
Dreaming about that house had always made her happy. Staring at it and projecting had softened the blow when he’d left for college a year ahead of her. Ironically, back then she’d been convinced he’d meet someone new in Boston and dump her. He’d promised the distance wouldn’t break them up. Promised he’d love her forever and that someday they’d get married and buy that house.
But Steffi had destroyed that love, and now the cottage would become some other young couple’s dream.
Benny and Claire returned to the table then and flopped onto their chairs with sweat-soaked hair. Steffi noticed Claire rub her hip while Benny dabbed his forehead with a napkin.
Steffi turned to Claire, firing words out like a machine gun. “We need to talk. The Weber cottage is going on the market, and I want to buy it and flip it.”
“Are you insane?” Claire’s eyes flashed her disbelief. “Real estate speculation isn’t our business plan. We do work for hire.”
“I know, but it’s such a great little house, there’s no risk! I know it’ll be snapped up, especially after we renovate. Perfect location. Unique. And small enough to be more affordable for most.”
“No.” Claire shook her head. “There’s no such thing as a risk-free flip. And you have no idea how much work needs to be done, or what kinds of nightmares are hidden in those ancient walls.”
“That’s what an inspection is for.” She looked to Ryan and Benny for support. “Tell her. This could be a great opportunity, especially if we can avoid paying broker fees.”
Benny held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”
“Chicken!” Steffi barked.
“Hey, I don’t want any blame if it goes south.” Benny smiled and chugged some beer.
Steffi waved him off, aware of Ryan’s intent stare. She gripped Claire’s forearm. “Let me ask Gretta what she’s thinking in terms of price. If it’s not astronomical, I’ll take a look to see if the house is salvageable. Don’t say no yet. Just trust me.”