Second Chances (8 page)

“Wouldn’t I have to have some kind of business license to do that? I doubt that this house, or street, is zoned to have any kind of commercial enterprise on it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, dear Abigail. There’s three B-and-Bs right on East Battery.”

“Okay, you’re right, but I can’t afford to go through the legalities needed to bring this house to whatever codes are required, like a second-story fire escape, and just the cost of a B-and-B license is probably astronomical. Anyway, we’d be trying to make this place an upscale boarding house, not a B-and-B. How are we going to accomplish that?”

Betsy gave Abby a sly grin and said, “Quietly.”

“Okay, on a serious note, how could we really pull it off?”

“I know a lot of high rollers in the fashion industry, and I do have a degree in marketing. There wouldn’t be any lowlifes trying to move in here. They couldn’t afford it anyway. We’d have to come up with a cost per room, both with and without a private bath, and then the cost per meal. It has to be calculated logically, plus it has to be competitive with what people would spend anyway on meals and lodging. I can use myself as one example. I paid a thousand fifty dollars for eight hundred fifty square feet of space. That was for a cramped kitchen and living room combination, one bath, and a tiny bedroom. My utilities were two hundred fifty dollars a month for everything, and I had to pay for a parking spot, which was another hundred bucks. I spent two hundred a month on groceries but ate out a lot, too, which was an average of another two hundred. Betsy, add all those numbers up, please.”

“That’s one thousand eight hundred dollars a month, Mel. You must make a good income.”

“I do, but look at the big picture here. I didn’t live in a stately mansion like this. I couldn’t wander around a six-thousand-eight-hundred-square-foot house and beautiful gardens like I can here. Nobody would have to cook their own meals, and look at the view. The park is right across the street and the ocean beyond that. What’s not to like? People will be banging the door down trying to be one of the lucky ones to live here.”

“I’m not too bad at reading people, for the most part anyway, having been a relationship counselor before. I’ll be in charge of interviewing potential tenants. We need a way to do a background check and verify their employment, too. I know there are programs you can subscribe to that do those types of things. It’s the same thing employers and rental agencies use. Right now, we have to figure out the room and meal cost that will make sense to anyone that rents. They have to see the benefit of living here over anywhere else. After that, we need to get these potential renters here for an interview without attracting attention from the neighbors.” Abby finally looked hopeful as she spoke. “No matter what, it will cost nearly five thousand dollars a month to support this place. Let’s figure out the cost per room and meals right now and see how it shakes out.”

Betsy disappeared into the kitchen while Mel and Abby worked on the room costs. Betsy would be the one to figure out food expenses for a houseful of people, day in and day out. Ten minutes later, she returned with a pitcher of sweet tea and an enormous turquoise melamine bowl full of popcorn. “I thought we might need a little snack to help us think. I’ve heard popcorn aids blood flow to the brain.”

“It does,” Abby said, “but not the buttery, salted type. I think our brains are in high gear already, but I love buttery popcorn, so thanks. Before we go to bed tonight, we’ll have a viable plan of action.”

With a half-hour break for popcorn and tea—and with a calculator clicking away beneath their greasy fingertips—the girls devised the perfect cost-effective scenario.

“This will make everyone feel like they’re getting more than their money’s worth while living in the best neighborhood of Charleston,” Mel said. “Abby, you’ll have plenty of money left at the end of the month to buy a car and save up for anything that can go wrong. With four people, including me, paying one thousand two hundred dollars a month for the large bedrooms with the private bath, and three people paying eight hundred dollars for the small bedrooms with hallway baths, it comes to seven thousand two hundred dollars a month in income. Betsy, how much would it cost to feed nine people for a month?”

“If I make a lot of pasta dishes, casseroles, and salads for dinners, and eggs and toast for breakfasts, everyone could be fed well on one thousand five hundred dollars a month,” Betsy said.

“Okay, so if we add two hundred dollars a month more to everyone’s rent, which would include breakfast and dinner, we can’t go wrong. They’ll be jumping at the chance to live here. As long as we can rent all the rooms, there should be plenty of money coming in. Everyone will have to sign a one-year lease. Now, the question is, how do we start a buzz in Charleston without the neighbors finding out?” Melanie said.

“Let’s sleep on it and come up with something tomorrow. I’m beat,” Abby said. “Thanks, guys, for everything. This just might work out after all.” Lying in bed, Abby felt excited about the possibilities.
Life might turn out okay as long as I’m very careful with the tenants I choose. Remy and Mom, I won’t let either of you ruin my life. No pity parties for me anymore. I’m going to be in charge and live my life on my terms, bravely and passionately, with the best friends I’ve ever known. Thank you, Mel and Betsy, for being here for me. We can make this work.

“I’ve got to change my last name,” Abby announced as she walked into the breakfast room the next morning. The long, flowing robe looked beautiful on her tall, slender body.

She brought the carafe of coffee to the maple morning table and set it on a trivet. Betsy scooped the scrambled eggs into a bowl and served them family style. With a four-slice toaster, the toast was made and buttered in no time. Betsy stacked eight pieces on a plate and carried it to the table with a jar of peach jam. The girls helped themselves to breakfast.

“So what does that actually mean, and why would you do it?” Mel asked with a mouthful of perfectly prepared eggs.

“I’ve done the research, and it’s as simple as going to the courthouse and standing before the judge. As long as you aren’t a criminal trying to hide or you want to change your name to something really stupid, it goes through without a problem. I want to come across as the on-site property manager, so I don’t want anyone to know I actually own the house. Plus it’s a good way to never be used again for financial gain.”

“That’s a great idea. Have you thought of a new last name yet?”

“Sort of, but I want to run it by you guys first. Originally, I wanted to use my mom’s maiden name, but not anymore after the crap she put me through. How about Taylor? It’s a basic, common name. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

“I like it. Abigail Taylor, or Abby Taylor, has a nice ring to it. You look like you could be the granddaughter of Liz Taylor with your black hair and blue eyes,” Melanie said.

“Thanks, Mel. So it’s settled? You guys agree, Abby Taylor sounds okay?”

“It’s okay by me,” Betsy said as she cleared the table.

“Me, too. When are you going to do it?”

“I’ll have to call the courthouse and see when I can get in. Have either of you given the interview process any thought?”

“I think we should post an ad in every Starbucks south of Spring Street, plus I can spread the word at work. We have a bulletin board for employees in the cafeteria. A friend of mine at work can have her husband post an ad in the cafeteria at the hospital, too. There are young doctors and nurses working there that could easily afford to live here. We’re only interested in top quality applicants that will get along with us and each other.”

“Well, I know what I have to do before anyone moves in. I need to upgrade the water heater in the basement so there’s always hot water on demand, and I need to spruce up the hallway bathrooms a little. All the bedrooms we’re going to rent out need a fresh coat of paint, too. After that is complete, we can start the interview process. With the few thousand dollars I have left, I’m pretty sure I can find somebody to take care of those household issues pretty quickly. Today, Betsy, you and I are going to move furniture and pick out paint colors.”

Melanie had already left for work, and because it was such a beautiful day with low humidity, Abby and Betsy found a shaded spot outside to use as their work area. With the laptop wedged under her arm, a pencil lodged above her left ear, and a pad of paper in her hand, Abby sat down at the wrought-iron bistro set in the backyard. Betsy joined her with a fresh pot of coffee, two mugs, and two cinnamon rolls. Browsing through a website showing paint samples, Abby and Betsy made their selections. They could be more imaginative with the larger rooms, but the small bedrooms would need lighter colors to make them look bigger. Between the two of them, they chose a light blush for the small rooms and sage green for the larger rooms. Keeping the walls a gender-neutral color would help make them attractive to anyone. Abby found several ads online that offered handyman services. She set up appointments with three of them to compare rates and qualifications. By this time next week, they would be ready to open for business.

The flashing light on Abby’s phone caught her attention.
Damn it, I missed a call
. She listened as the message from the county clerk told her what day and time to appear in front of the judge for her name change request. Abby was more than excited. It would truly be a new beginning for her, a do-over, and in a way, a second chance to get things right. Going forward, she would determine her own fate, good or bad. She would have nobody else to fall back on and nobody else to blame. Her future rested on her, and she liked it that way.

Today, three different handymen had appointments to give Abby a quote for the work she wanted. She said she would like to see their qualifications and read a few reviews of their work when they came by. The appointments were scheduled two hours apart, beginning at eleven a.m. The first man showed up fifteen minutes late.
Not the best first impression
, Abby thought when she welcomed him in. John Beck handed her his business card, mumbled something about hitting every red light in town, and followed her to the basement. He carried a clipboard with a pen, and he looked like a mild-mannered middle-aged handyman. Abby showed him the water heater that needed replacing.

“This doesn’t look that old. Isn’t is working right?”

“Well, yes, it works fine, but right now there are only three of us. I hope to fill this house up soon, and I don’t think a forty-gallon water heater would be adequate.”

He gave Abby a slow, deliberate once-over, lingering far too long on her ample chest. “So what makes you so smart? Aren’t you the little lady of the house? I’d peg you to do more showing than thinking.”

“What? Excuse me? I think I’ll show you something, Mr. Beck. The door.” Abby headed up the stairs, stomping a little harder than necessary.

“I thought you wanted me to see the bedrooms, too,” he smirked.

“Not anymore. I think we’re done.”

She slammed the door behind him, hoping that wasn’t an indication of what self-employed handymen were like. With John Beck’s business card shredded and in the garbage can, Abby and Betsy had lunch on the veranda, enjoying the view of the park and people walking their dogs. “Can you believe my mom gave five million dollars to the Charleston Animal Society?” Abby stared at every size and breed of dog being walked up and down the neighboring sidewalks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love animals, but holy cow, that’s a lot of money. My mom never owned a dog in her life. That’s what blows my mind. Mittens is the only pet I ever remember having, and she’s pretty self-sufficient. Did my mom ever feed her or change her litter box that you can recall?”

“Nope,” Betsy said, “not as long as I’ve lived here.”

“Well, whatever… I know the money is going to a good cause, but I sure could have used some of it.”

Abby looked up as a panel van slowed down in front of the house, with a man craning his neck out the window, looking at addresses. He found a parking spot three houses down and slid his van in behind a Volvo. He checked himself in the side mirror when he got out and walked toward the Italianate mansion.

“That must be handyman number two,” Abby said. A crumb of bread stuck to her lip as she spoke.

Betsy turned to respond and laughed. “If you think that guy is as hot as I do, then you better wipe the crumb off your mouth before he gets through the gate.”

“Crap. Help me, hurry! Is it gone?”

“Yes, it’s gone, and you look beautiful.”

Abby adjusted her tank top and smoothed her shorts as she stood up. She met handyman number two at the gate and let him in.

“Hi, I’m Abby. You must be Erik Christiansen. Welcome to Melrose Mansion. It’s nice to meet you.”

He reached out and shook her hand. “Thanks. Nice to meet you, too.”

They reached the veranda, and Abby introduced Erik to Betsy. With a firm grip, he shook her hand.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to give you a little personal background. Would it be okay if we sat for a few minutes?”

“Of course, please.” Abby pointed to an empty chair while she took the seat next to Betsy.

“I don’t feel I should take up your time and enter the privacy of your home until I show you my credentials. Here are a few business cards, just in case you know of anyone else who needs work done.” He set down the worn leather satchel that was slung over his shoulder and reached in. He glanced up at Abby as he handed her the cards and showed his deep dimples when he smiled. He pulled out a sheet listing jobs he had worked in the past, as well as some very favorable reviews.

“It looks like you’ve done restoration work on some very historic buildings around Charleston. That’s a relief. I want to feel confident about the people I hire. So, Mr. Christiansen, how long have you been in this line of work?”

“My father owned a remodeling company for over forty years. I worked side by side with him until he retired a few years back. Business slowed down a bit during the recession of 2008, but things are picking up again. I guess I’d say I’m capable of doing just about anything.”