Sisters, page 9
She nodded. “Yes, I hope that’s okay.”
“More than okay. Glad to have you along.” She turned to her client. “I helped Karyn find her house a couple of years ago.” If Tess thought it odd that Dean’s widow was helping Grayson Chandler find a place to live, she didn’t let on.
Karyn sat and nestled her purse in her lap. “By the way, thanks for the generous check you gave at the memorial event. Your support is so appreciated.”
Tess waved her off. “No problem. Glad to donate to such a great cause.”
The realtor pulled a piece of paper out of the file on her desk. “Grayson, I’ve narrowed the selections down to three listings I’d like to show you today.”
The first was a condominium in Elkhorn, which Grayson quickly nixed. “I’m not the kind to live stacked so closely with the neighbors,” he said. “I think a place where I can drink coffee outdoors without putting a shirt on might be a better option.”
An image formed in Karyn’s head of his bare chest. She quickly chased the notion from her mind, but not before remembering the easy way Dean strode from their bathroom in the mornings wearing only his drawstring pajama bottoms.
“I have what might be perfect for you. A place up Warm Springs that backs up to a creek lined with willows and aspens.” She gave him a wide smile. “You won’t feel the least crowded.”
He nodded his approval. “Sounds good.”
They left the office and climbed in her car, she and Tessa up front and Grayson in the back seat. A short drive later and they were parked in front of the potential property.
Even at first blush, the log structure was stunning. Spacious, but not too big.
Grayson seemed pleased. “Yeah, this is what I was hoping for.” He turned to Karyn. “What do you think?”
“I love the timber elements. The river rock. Great curb appeal.”
“Curb appeal?”
She exchanged an amused glance with Tessa and motioned for him to follow her up the sidewalk. “C’mon, let’s take a look.”
The home consisted of two levels, the bottom floor a large open area with vaulted ceilings and massive windows overlooking a stand of quaking aspens lining a brook.
Overhead was a loft. The railing of rough-hewn posts called to mind the early frontier days of this part of Idaho, when the Sun Valley area was a thriving silver mining town. Besides timber, and stunning river stone, portions of the interior had the traditional look of square-cut logs and chinking—sturdy and dependable, like the house could protect the inhabitants from even the harshest winter.
She sighed. “I think this house is perfect for you.”
His eyes twinkled. “Oh? And why is that exactly?”
Karyn moved to the fireplace and ran her finger along the mantle. She could almost see the flicker of flames casting their warmth, imagine sitting in front of the crackling fire nestled on a flannel throw with a glass of wine.
She turned and their eyes met. “The house has a homey feel, and the craftsmanship is remarkable,” she answered in part, skirting his question.
Tessa didn’t waste the opportunity to make her own sales pitch. “I agree with Karyn. This house displays rugged strength, yet is completely warm and inviting. No frills. Just raw, dramatic elegance.” To make her point, she led them to the open guest bath door. “Look at that mirror frame made of elk horns.”
Grayson’s face broke into a wide smile as he stepped to the counter and saw the basin made of stone. “Okay, I agree. All this is pretty cool.”
Tessa gave a satisfied nod. “Let me take you upstairs. The master has an unsurpassed view of the backside of Baldy that is stunning, most especially at night.”
Minutes later, they stood in the center of the main bedroom admiring the light-filled space.
Karyn could barely form words for the ambiance created by the windows. “Wow! It’s almost like sleeping outdoors.”
“You think so?”
His teasing tone didn’t stop her from going on. “You’d have to put the bed right over there, facing the fireplace.” She pointed. “A flat-screened television would be perfect in that spot right above the mantle. That way you can watch the news while drinking your morning coffee in bed.”
She whirled and parked her hands on her hips. “You need to buy this house.”
He laughed and held up open palms. “Point made. You like the house.”
She laughed too. “Yeah, well—” She looked around the room, appreciating all the details. “I do.” She nodded. “I really do.”
Tessa stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand. “Sounds like my job may have just gotten a lot easier.”
Grayson rubbed at his chin. “Is the house on city water and sewer?”
“I have more details if you’d like. Follow me.” She turned and headed in the direction of the stairs.
Before trailing after her, Grayson looked back at Karyn. “You coming?”
13
“Wait, you’re telling me Karyn went house shopping with Grayson Chandler?” Leigh Ann pulled her red sweater a little tighter across her bare shoulders as she followed Joie across the church parking lot.
“Yup.” Joie lifted a compact mirror from her pocket and applied lip gloss as she walked. “Dad heard it from Ben at Atkinson’s Market. Ben learned the news from the Dilworth sisters who had lunch with Tessa McCreary, Grayson’s real estate agent.
“I just talked with Karyn on the phone last night. She said nothing.” Leigh Ann followed the winding sidewalk leading to the front doors. “I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Life Expert Barbie. Let me guess.”
Leigh Ann gave her younger sister a sharp look before quickly pasting a smile as they neared the entrance to Grace Chapel. “Morning, Father John.”
The rector handed each of them a bulletin. “Morning Leigh Ann. Joie. Glad to see you girls this delightful summer morning.”
Leigh Ann nodded at the man who was also her dad’s closest friend. “It is gorgeous. Summer never lasts long enough for me.”
He smiled. “Ah, yes—but winter will return before we know it. I can’t wait to get back on the mountain myself.”
Inside, she and Joie made their way to their regular pew—middle section, third from the front, directly behind Andre and Dee Dee Hamilton and to the right of where Nash Billingsley always sat. Grace Chapel parishioners were nothing if not creatures of habit.
Leigh Ann slid in next to her dad and Karyn. Barely settled in her seat, she leaned over to Karyn and whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She’s upset that Karyn didn’t tell her she’s seeing Grayson Chandler,” Joie explained, dispelling their father’s puzzled look.
Their middle sister huffed. “What are you talking about? I am most certainly not seeing Grayson Chandler. He’s new to the area and he simply asked me to weigh in on a house he’s considering purchasing. Despite what you might want to think, that’s not exactly a romantic rendezvous.”
Leigh Ann slipped her arms from her sweater and folded it over her lap. “Well, half the town is talking about it.”
“Yeah? Well half the town needs to get a life.”
Joie reached for a hymnal from the rack in front of her as Mrs. Miller positioned herself at the organ and began playing. “Sounds like Grayson Chandler wants to take wire cutters to that fence you’ve had up.”
Karyn rolled her eyes before turning to their father for help. He sat silently with a wide grin on his face.
“Oh, now don’t you start too.” She looked around at her family. “Are you all intent on making a mountain out of a mole hill just to torture me?”
They nodded in unison.
“Well, job well done.” Karyn whipped a hymnal from the rack and flipped the pages to Blessed Assurance before securing it across her lap. “The fact that I’ve become friends with Grayson Chandler isn’t even remotely connected to anything romantic. Sorry to disappoint, but this isn’t a Hallmark movie, folks.”
Her dad’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I hear that Chandler guy bakes a mean apple pie.” He winked at Leigh Ann.
Karyn slapped at his arm. “Oh, please. All of you. Stop already.”
Leigh Ann grinned and lifted a hymnal from in front of her. “Speaking of pies, I saw Elda Vaughn in Atkinson’s Market yesterday, her shopping cart heaped with baking supplies. She had a mega bag of chocolate chips. Perhaps she’s diverting tactics and her next ploy will be a plate of hot cookies.”
Joie quietly laughed as Father John stepped to the podium. “On top of petitioning for world peace, we need to pray we don’t end up with a Bo Peep in the family.”
Their father cocked his head in her direction. “A what?”
She patted his arm. “Nothing, Dad. Just bow your head.”
Halfway through Father John’s sermon, Joie picked at her nails, a habit she knew drove Leigh Ann crazy.
Only yesterday, her older sister caught her pulling at a ragged edge on her thumb and had chastised her. “Why do you do that and mess up your pretty hands? People are going to take one look at your nail beds and think you’re a prisoner who recently dug out of Guantanimo.”
She’d rolled her eyes. “Speaking of Guantanimo, I believe sister torture was banned under the Hague Convention.”
A disapproving look fixed upon Leigh Ann’s face. “You might not care what others think of you, but you should. Despite how diligent you are in denying the fact, your reputation matters.”
“Are we still talking about my fingernails?”
Leigh Ann shook her head. “Doesn’t that chip on your shoulder ever get heavy? Seriously, Joie. At some point in your life you are going to have to grow up and—” She’d stopped mid-sentence, likely realizing the repeated warnings never did any good.
Truth was, that wasn’t entirely so.
Her older sister’s disapproval was nothing compared to the conga line playing in her head constantly reminding her of the ways she’d screwed up. Most recently that little stunt she pulled at Crusty’s. Her sisters were never going to let her live that down— especially Leigh Ann.
Joie closed her eyes and tried to focus on Father John’s message.
“We would all be wise to embrace the following truth.” The rector gently smiled out over his congregation. “We are beloved by our Creator and each of us has great purpose. Any dead fish can go with the flow. We are called to climb out of the boat and grip our destiny in order to fulfill what we alone were created to accomplish here on earth.”
Father John seemed to look directly at her.
“And in order to do that, some of us need to forgive. Maybe even ourselves.”
She drew a deep breath and looked at the floor. “Easy for you to say,” she thought.
Despite her steadfast public bravado, she’d marred more than her fingernails, and no one sitting in the pews of this chapel, let alone her family, knew the half of it.
Light filtered through the artistic spate of windows located behind the altar, a commanding view of Mt. Baldy anchoring the background.
She appreciated what Father John had to say. Unfortunately, standing tall and moving into her destiny wasn’t all that easy.
She glanced sideways at her dad and sisters.
Not when she’d had to make her choices.
Karyn should be listening to Father John’s sermon, but her mind kept wandering. People in town were talking, and she didn’t like being the subject of their chatter.
Sure, her family and friends loved her and wanted her happy again. She wanted that too. The dangerous side effects of receiving such generosity of spirit were the pesky symptoms of expectation—her every move and motive examined like she was a specimen on a tiny glass slide.
Her world had definitely tilted after losing Dean. That didn’t mean she was incapable of maneuvering her own life without people weighing in, no matter how well intentioned.
She was making every effort to right herself and stand straight again. Life moves on—even after tragedy. Sometimes you had no choice but to say goodbye to the one you loved, stare down that long road ahead of you and take the first step forward.
Karyn glanced across the aisle to where Dean’s parents sat. Without honing in her gaze, she knew Aggie’s eyes would fill with tears at the first strains of Amazing Grace . . . still.
Her heart filled with sadness at the notion. Yet, did that mean she couldn’t break from following suit? Wasn’t it healthy to want to walk away from the pain and feel good again?
Her hand slid into the pocket of her jacket and she quietly lifted her cell phone out and stared at the text message on the face.
“Thanks again for helping me the other day. I really enjoyed your enthusiasm for the new house. Would love to see you again. Dinner sometime?”
She swallowed.
After having read the text multiple times, each letter of that message was now imprinted on her brain. Before responding, she needed to consider all the angles.
Was she really ready to start dating?
No doubt each of her sisters would want to offer counsel on every detail, smother her with concern and advice. Not to mention how having dinner with Grayson Chandler would only serve to create more fodder for discussion in the supermarket aisles.
What about Bert and Aggie? She knew Dean’s parents wanted her happy, but they might be hurt to know she’d allowed someone new a place in her heart so soon—even if the relationship was limited to friendship more than anything else.
There would be no turning back after taking such a huge step. Yet, hadn’t she vowed to start living again?
Her thumbs slowly moved to the keyboard.
Leigh Ann leaned over. “Who’s that?” she mouthed.
Karyn glanced up at her nosy sister. “No one,” she whispered and pocketed her phone.
Father John stood at the podium, his familiar voice clear and strong. “Any dead fish can go with the flow. We are called to climb out of the boat and get on with our destiny—”
A slight line of sweat formed at her hairline. She nibbled at her bottom lip and stared at the morning light streaming through the windows at the front of the church.
She might be a young widow, but she was no dead fish.
Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her phone and quickly tapped out a response.
“Sure, that would be nice.”
Her finger wavered slightly as it hovered over the face of the phone. She took a deep breath, held it and pressed send.
Grayson Chandler strode across the asphalt of the Friedman Memorial and headed for the hanger where he kept his Cessna 206, the way he habitually did on so many beautiful mornings like this.
Being a backcountry pilot suited him—the quiet, simple routine, the work of packing and loading supplies for delivery, doing a flight check, and ultimately taking to the wide-open sky.
While his ex had discounted the value of his career choice, had even pushed him to consider a more conventional option that might carry more prestige, he’d never once regretted his decision and the lifestyle his avocation provided.
Today, instead of cargo, he’d be transporting an author and his publishing team to Roosevelt Lake for a photo shoot. The little known spot located in a remote mountainous area near Yellow Pine had been the seat of mining back in the early 1900s when a mud slide blocked Monumental Creek and flooded the entire area, leaving the town of Roosevelt under water. Remnants of the historic buildings could still be seen below the surface.
Normally, he left before dawn on such a trip, but he’d received a text from the head publicist that the group had stayed out a little too late on Saturday night and they were late rising from bed. She hoped that didn’t cause him too much trouble.
“No trouble,” he’d written back. He was here to serve the needs of his customers. He scrolled up to the even more important message he’d sent over a day ago.
Karyn had a great time looking at houses, and while it was a bit unnerving to venture out and send the message in the first place, he’d hoped she’d be happy to see it and would agree to move the relationship forward a tiny step.
But she hadn’t responded, leaving him feeling unsettled, and yes, disappointed. Maybe he’d misread the situation, jumped ahead. Might even have made a fool of himself.
He shook his head.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
He was getting ready to pocket his phone when it dinged. A message appeared.
“Sure, I’d love dinner. That would be nice.”
Grayson’s face broke into a wide grin.
A good day had instantly turned a whole lot better.
14
Leigh Ann reached into her grocery cart and grabbed the Oreos. “Like you need those,” she scolded before placing the package back on the shelf. No one would say she was fat. But neither did she enjoy the fine-boned structure both of her sisters took for granted.
She pushed her cart down the aisle and away from the temptation with determination, instead heading for the pasta aisle. Another food item that went straight to her hips, but Mark loved anything with basil and garlic. Tonight, she’d surprise him with her special lasagna recipe using the canned tomatoes in her pantry, and would serve a loaf of crusty garlic bread he loved.
A night filled with all his favorites would provide a perfect springboard for her idea for his upcoming birthday and the trip she’d arranged to Seattle.
Normally, she’d prepare her lasagna noodles from scratch using her fancy pasta maker, a Christmas gift from Mark. Okay, admittedly she’d ordered it out of the Williams Sonoma catalog and put his name on it. Today, she was running late and she’d have to make do with the packaged variety.
On the way to the other side of the store, she passed the wine aisle and stopped to consider the selections when she overheard Mark’s name.
“Are you sure it was Mark Blackburn?” While muted by the music piped from the overhead speakers, the familiar voice on the other side of the aisle clearly belonged to Trudy Dilworth.
