Seeing is Believing (Cuttersville #3)(39)
Author: Erin McCarthy

There was an exaggerated silence before Darius spoke up, clearly trying to gloss over the sudden tension. “So how long are you in town?”

“A few weeks.”

“Good, great—we’ll have to get together. It was nice meeting you. Abby, let’s head out before Marge goes off on us for blocking the tables.”

She nodded. “I’m glad you’re home, Brady. And my sister has the information you’re looking for. Go see Bree at the library. She can help you with your research.”

Goose bumps rose on his arms. How could she know he was looking for answers about Brady and Rachel? God, he didn’t remember Abby being this out there. He had no idea what to say, so he just nodded. “Good luck with the baby.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and reached out and squeezed his hand. “See you soon.”

He supposed she would know.

Brady sat back down and stared at the menu, the words blurring. Suddenly he wanted a beer way more than he wanted a sandwich. Maybe he should swing around to his gran’s for some of her special lemonade before hitting the hardware store.

* * *

“OH, MY GOD, I’LL CALL A CLEANING SERVICE FIRST thing tomorrow.”

Piper sighed, wishing her mother had let her come to the house on Swallow by herself. But after dinner, when Piper had mentioned she wanted to see the house and take some measurements, Amanda had insisted on accompanying her. Now her mother was standing in the living room frowning, her designer handbag in fuchsia held in front of her like a dust shield.

“I can clean it. It’s just a little dusty.” The house had the musty smell of one that had been sitting empty for a while, and the dust motes danced in the fading sunlight from the grimy windows. But the floor looked like it was in decent shape and a glance into the kitchen showed it was the original fifties style, which Piper preferred over an eighties reno gone bad. It was kitschy and suited her. A sense of relief washed over her, and some of the anxiety she had been feeling since she’d opened that door to Brady on Friday eased.

It had been crazy impulsive to verbally agree to a rental she’d never seen, though she doubted Jessie would have held her to it if she had changed her mind. But she didn’t want to change her mind. She wanted to make decisions for herself, move out and move forward with her life. The house gave her a good vibe.

Best of all? There was no hint of ghosts.

“So I talked to Jessie and she said we can choose whatever color we want for paint as long as it’s not obnoxious. Given that she usually looks like a bedazzled produce bin, I think we’ll be safe with whatever we choose.” Amanda pulled a color swatch book out of her purse and fanned it out. “I was thinking a light gray with purple undertones.”

The fact that her mother had paint samples in her purse did not surprise Piper. She had everything but miniature ponies in her handbag. It had been like falling into Narnia when she was a kid and had been allowed to look into it. There were sweets and beauty products and weaponry in it.

“I was thinking yellow. Or pink.”

Acrylic nails paused in the blue family. “Pink? Are you serious?”

“Yes. I like soft colors. I want it to be like . . . a teacup.” The rooms were small and demanded delicate furniture. The cottage details should be highlighted, not ignored, and Piper envisioned lots of plump pillows and fresh flowers, crisp whites, and soft, aged fabrics.

“When you were little, I had to beg you to dress like a girl. Now you never see a floral you don’t like.”

It was probably because when she’d been really little, she had thought girly was the same as trashy. It had taken a few years to sort that out. “I guess I had to grow into it.”

Her mother immediately started sniffling. “I can’t believe you’re moving out. I’m going to miss you.” But then she shifted colors resolutely, holding up a swatch like she was determined not to cry. “How about a white backdrop? Fresh and clean, and then you can go to town with the florals. It will be beautiful, like you.”

Oh, dear. Piper gave her a wan smile. “Thank you.” If her mother started crying, she would start crying, and then they’d be a blubbering mess together.

But Amanda suddenly lifted her head and snapped her fingers. “Oh, my God, I have the best idea ever. You know what goes perfectly with this look you have in mind? Wicker! We’ll give you the porch furniture and you can use it in the living room. You need furniture, right? We’ll just freshen it up with some new pillows for you. There’s a sofa and two big chairs. It will be perfect.”

Piper also wanted to laugh. Her mother hated that wicker and she’d been looking for an excuse to get rid of it for years. “I thought Grandma bought that furniture.”

“Oh, she might have.” She waved her arm around. “But you’re her only granddaughter.”

Like somehow that explained everything. “You don’t have to go to all that trouble. I don’t really need anything other than my bed for a while.”

“Oh, I want to. I really, really want to do this for you.”

That was code for she wanted the wicker gone.

“And good grief, Piper, do you seriously think your father and I would let you live in an empty house?”

“No.” They would offer and she would protest, and in the end, they would give her way more than she had ever expected. That was the way it always went. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. Especially since I didn’t really plan for this very well. I do have a lot of money saved, though, so I’ll take a little of it and get my kitchenware.”

“We’ll go to Walmart, my favorite place after the Prada flagship store in New York.” Amanda winked at her.

Piper laughed. “Yes, your favorite place in the whole world. Daddy always says you should buy stock in it.”

“Let’s write down everything you need.” A tablet came out of the handbag and her mother started muttering and typing. “Twelve bath towels, hand towels, washcloths . . . shower curtain, cotton ball container.”

Even if she didn’t do laundry for nearly two weeks, Piper didn’t need twelve towels, but she didn’t say anything. In the end, she would have to downsize whatever list her mother came up with by about 90 percent. But it would give her a jumping-off point. Hugging herself, she wandered into the bedroom. It was perfect for a full bed. Anything bigger would be a squeeze. There was a bedroom upstairs that ran the length of the house, but Piper wanted to be downstairs, by the bathroom, and with the big window overlooking the backyard. She didn’t want to be stuffed in the attic.