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Authors: Fern Michaels

Seasons of Her Life (68 page)

BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
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An adventure. Andy was going to have a fit, she thought as she started to run up and down the steps. She made it twice before she collapsed into the sleeping bag. She thought about the rats as she started to doze off, but flashlights she'd placed all over the floor might scare them off. Tomorrow she would set traps. Right now, her only concern was her health and the fact that she'd followed the doctor's orders for three full days. She thought she felt better. Most likely it was wishful thinking on her part. She didn't care about that, either.
Ruby slept deeply and dreamlessly. She was wakened promptly at seven
A.M.
by a sharp rapping at the door. The Semolina brothers chose not to be formal so early in the morning. They opened the door, walked in, and introduced themselves. Ruby gaped at them. They were as old as Angus, maybe older. They doddered.
“I'm Dick, and this is Mick, my brother. Tell us what you want done,” they said in unison.
Ruby told them. They nodded until she got to the part about calling Sears, Roebuck for a new kitchen.
“No need for that, missus. We can put a kitchen in here in two days' time. One you won't be ashamed of. We can have this pump primed in thirty minutes, and Dick here can jerry-rig some e-leck-tricity until the power company comes out. We can fire up them Franklin stoves if you bring in the wood.”
“Okay,” Ruby said, flustered. “I want you to do the whole place. The roof first.” God, she hoped they lived that long. “For now I can get by with a kitchen and bedroom and bathroom that work. Is that . . . is that okay with you gentlemen?” Both men nodded. She wondered if they were twins. And she would have bet her last five dollars they were related somehow to Angus Webster.
“We know this place like the back of our hand. We played here when we wuz youngsters with Angus. We're cousins. We know what to do to make this old place livable. Didn't think anyone would be fool enough to buy it. Gonna cost you a poke of money, missus.”
“We should . . . we should discuss just how much it is going to cost,” Ruby said.
“No need to worry, missus. We buy on tic from the lumber mill. We'll give you all the receipts. We wouldn't cheat a fine woman like yourself, even if you is fool enough to buy this place. It was grand in its day. Just grand.”
“Let's . . . let's do one room at a time.”
“We wuz going to suggest that, missus. First thing we're going to do is fix the back steps so you don't go breaking your legs. We have the lumber on the truck. You start fetching in that wood and we'll have you cozy warm soon.”
There was no need for further exercise for Ruby after she'd carried in her last armful of wood.
The Semolina brothers ignored her when she said she was going to Port Jervis to order the things she needed for the house.
It took most of the day to pick out furniture. She bought a kitchen set the proprietor of the store told her had been hand-crafted by the Semolina brothers and would last a lifetime. The table was round, with big claw feet that jutted from the center of the pedestal. The chairs were heavy and the back intricately carved. Ruby knew right then and there her dilapidated house was in good hands. She bought a gorgeous four-poster with a stool to climb into bed. The mattress was firm but comfortable, though it was so high that if she ever fell out of the bed, she'd break every bone in her body. She bought two double dressers and two rocking chairs, one for her bedroom and one for the kitchen. Her last purchases were a washer-dryer combination, a refrigerator, and a stove that worked on propane gas.
Ruby was so pleased with her accomplishments, she headed straight for the nearest diner and ordered a broiled salmon steak, rice, broccoli, and a huge salad with lemon juice. Then she drove to a motel, where she rented a room, showered, changed her clothes, and headed back to the house.
It wasn't until she was driving across the field that thoughts about Dixie, Calvin, and her health began to pester her, but now she knew the secret to dealing with those thoughts: keep so busy that you don't have time for them.
The Blue project, as they called it, proposed a challenge to the Semolina brothers. They debated for all of fifteen minutes before finally deciding that they had to call in reserves if they didn't want to go over their deadline. They allowed themselves only two weeks a year to work on renovations. The rest of the time, they built furniture. Elias, Eggert, and Eustace, the Semolinas' cousins, were recruited to put in a roof, new windows, and a new floor on the front porch.
Not to be outdone, the Semolina women, consisting of Hattie, Addie, Erline, and Delphine, brought basket lunches to their men, clucking in approval at their handiwork. When the picnic baskets were repacked, complete with red-and-white checkered napkins that were washed and ironed on a daily basis, they cleared the flower beds, raked the yard, and stacked firewood.
While all the pounding and hammering was going on, Ruby whiled away her time with trips to Port Jervis, buying whatever struck her fancy. Each merchant was told the same thing: delivery in two weeks. Ruby thought it an impossible deadline, but the merchants didn't seem to think so when she told them who was doing the work on the house. She could hardly wait for delivery day. This would be the first time she had full control of decorating a house that belonged solely to her. She didn't have to consult anyone.
The first weekend after the house was completed she would invite Andy for a look-see. Andy would be the final judge.
The roof had been repaired, and she now had electricity and an electric pump as well as a generator in case the power went off, which Mick said happened real often. She had a telephone and answering machine hooked up in one of the empty rooms.
Ruby had no idea how they did what they did. After one day she had a new roof, after another, a brand-new kitchen. It didn't take a day to sand all the floors. The new windows went in so quickly, she was dazzled. Eggert said that when you knew what you were doing, things ran smoothly.
The cousins, who admitted to being on the shady side of seventy, hung new chandeliers, bopping up and down the ladders like youngsters. Elias said they were sure-footed.
Eustace, the only cousin with a wife, was the plumber of the group. With Hattie handing him his tools, he had all the drains working and the toilets flushable. They squabbled often and loudly, with Hattie calling her husband a horse's ass more often than she called him darlin'. Eustace called her his buttercup, and it was easy to see who wore the pants in the family.
Ruby wondered what would have happened if she'd said she didn't like oak. The brothers and cousins probably would have departed en masse because they said oak was the only wood worth using, as it lasted a lifetime. Ruby wasn't sure whose lifetime they were referring to.
“Missus,” Mick said on the morning of the thirteenth day, “you won't be able to stay in the house today. Today we varnish all the floors and lay the new floor in the kitchen. Tomorrow afternoon you can return. We want to be paid then.”
“Of course,” Ruby said. “What time?”
“Afternoon,” Mick said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Need to talk about the barn and outbuildings,” Dick said. Ruby waited.
“We can do it next year. It will take two weeks.” Ruby nodded again. “House is good as new.”
“It's beautiful,” Ruby said sincerely. “You do magnificent work.”
“We know. Big house for just one lady.”
“I've been thinking about a pet.”
“Used to be square dancin' in the big room years ago.” It was the first casual sentence Mick had volunteered. The big room was the living room, which ran the whole length of the house. Seven thousand square feet of living space. What was she going to do with this big old house after she furnished it, and who was going to
clean
it? She gave voice to the thought.
“Tsk, tsk,” was the only answer she got.
“I guess I might as well get my stuff together. I'll be at the Holiday Inn if you need me.”
“Why would we need you?” Dick asked.
Ruby shrugged. “You never know,” she said lamely.
“Four o'clock tomorrow,” Mick said.
Ruby looked at Dick, or was it Mick? “You said afternoon, you didn't say a time.”
“I did now. Four o'clock.”
“Okay.”
 
When Ruby returned the following day, promptly at four, the Semolina brothers, their male and female cousins, and Angus Webster were waiting for her on her new front porch. She felt curious as to how much it was all going to cost. For days now she'd kept a running tab in her head. Somewhere she'd zeroed in on a hundred thousand dollars, probably when she'd seen the loads of lumber arrive, or maybe it was when all the new windows and sliders appeared. She also wondered if they made out receipts or if they worked like Angus Webster, on a handshake.
She noticed something different about them today. They weren't in their working clothes; even Hattie had a dress on. God, she dithered, it must be closer to one hundred fifty thousand dollars.
Mick handed over three sets of keys to brand new locks. “Front, back, and side.”
“Wood for the rest of the winter is piled up on the back porch and covered. 'Nuff wood upstairs to last a week or so for your bedroom,” Dick said.
“Stoves all fired up. Got a real good blaze in the kitchen going for you,” Eustace muttered.
“Brought you a picnic supper,” Hattie said. “A bowl of lemons, too.”
“You want to look around, missus, before you pay us?” Mick asked.
Ruby nodded. She fit the shiny brass key into the lock of the heavy oak door. She blinked, first at the shiny floors and then at the braided rug she was standing on.
“I made the rug,” Addie said. “One by all the doors.”
“Thank you. Thank you so very much.”
For twenty minutes all she said was thank you—over and over again—as she trooped from one room to the other. She'd saved the kitchen till last.
She was speechless, tears brimming in her eyes. She clapped her hands in delight. The bow window was beautiful, and one of the cousins, probably Erline, as she said she had a green thumb, had hung a monstrous, lush green fern in the center of the overhang. Bright green pillows lined the window seat.
She now had a solid oak counter and magnificent oak cabinets that were to die for. She touched them reverently. “It's beautiful,” she said softly.
“Never said we didn't do good work.”
“No, you never said that,” Ruby said in a hushed voice.
“That be my present to you, missus,” Angus said, indicating a solid oak rocking chair. “Was my mother's. Mick and Dick fixed it up and now you got it. Used to sit where it's sittin' now. 'Course the cushion was different then. Addie made the new cushions. Do ya like it?” he asked gruffly.
“Like it! I love it! How can I thank you?”
“By paying us,” Mick said. Clearly the social end of things was at an end.
“It will be my pleasure,” Ruby said, opening her purse. “How much does it all come to?”
Dick handed her a slip of paper. “This is on tic at the lumber mill. They take checks.” Blinking in stupefying amazement, Ruby wrote out a check for seventeen thousand dollars. “This is what you owe us. We don't charge for these here gifts we brought. They're grat-tus,” he said, handing her a second slip of paper.
Ruby's eyes popped. Eight thousand dollars. It couldn't be right. He must have left off the first number. “Are you sure this is right?”
“Now, missus, we don't haggle. That's it. That's what we charge. Not a penny less.”
“That's not what I meant. I thought . . .”
“. . . you were gettin' us cheap. We don't work cheap. We do quality work at quality prices. You unhappy with somethin', missus?”
“No, sir, not at all. I thought you would charge me more. I expected to pay more, not
less
.”
“How much more?” Eggert asked craftily. Ruby shrugged.
“A fair day's work for a fair day's wages, that's our charge. Be obliged, missus, if you'd pay us now, so we can be on our way.”
Ruby counted out ten thousand dollars and handed it over. Mick spit on his fingers and counted the bills behind her. “Too much here, missus.” He handed back a sheaf of bills.
Ruby watched her guests leave, a helpless look on her face.
Andy was
never
going to believe this. Hell, she didn't believe it.
No one
would believe it.
With every light burning in the house, Ruby trooped through the rooms again. She toed off spaces where her new furniture would go.
It wasn't until she was dozing off in her sleeping bag in front of the kitchen fire that she wondered how she was going to spend her time in this monstrous house.
“Like Scarlett said, I'll think about that tomorrow,” Ruby murmured sleepily.
 
Ruby woke with the roosters. She replenished all the fires, poking down the wood with a fire tong. She replenished the water in the old iron pots on all the stoves to add moisture to the air. She added extra logs to the fireplace in the kitchen. While she waited for the kitchen and bathroom to get warm, she fixed her daily bowl of bran cereal. Soluble fiber. It supposedly would help cleanse her clogged arteries. She wolfed it down along with a banana and an apple and two glasses of water. She took her pills neat. She rocked contentedly until the kitchen felt just right. The bathroom, she knew, would be just perfect. Toasty really.
At seven-thirty she was ready for her new day in her very own house. Her first delivery was scheduled for eight-fifteen. Her bedroom was the only room in which she was installing carpet—a deep apple-green, thick pile. The drapery people were due at eleven to hang the custom-made curtains for the wraparound windows in her bedroom. They'd also custom-made a bedspread and a vanity skirt to match. Just the way she had always said she would someday. Well, her someday was here. She was finally going to have a frilly, feminine bedroom. She'd earned it.
BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
11.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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