Next door, to the right, stood a grand, villa-style house. It was white with a blue tile roof and two verandas off the top story. A colorful variety of flowers lined the walkway.
“Hello. Are you Alissa?” A middle-aged brunette with a toddler girl on her hip stepped out of the large house.
“Yes. You must be Genevieve.”
“Yes, and this is Mallory. I’m sorry I was in such a hurry on the phone. I didn’t give you much information.”
Alissa noticed Genevieve’s accent. People had told Alissa that she, too, had a “potpourri” accent from all the places she had lived. She wanted to ask Genevieve where she was from but hesitated. She was cautious, not wanting to be impolite. That was how her proper Bostonian grandmother had taught her to behave.
“It’s this side over here.”
Alissa was pleased to see Genevieve was gesturing toward the unit with the lace curtains. “Is it available right away?”
“That’s what I didn’t have time to explain to you. My husband, Steven, and I are the landlords, but we actually have a tenant already. Shelly Graham. I don’t suppose you know her?”
Alissa shook her head.
“Shelly’s a flight attendant. Since she’s gone so much of the time, I’m helping her find a roommate.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize a roommate was involved.”
“I apologize for not making that clear to you over the phone.”
Alissa didn’t want to walk away. From the outside, at least, this was far more desirable than anything she had looked at all month. “What about the other side of the duplex? I suppose that’s taken?”
“Yes, it is.”
Mallory laced her pudgy fingers in her mother’s thick, shoulder-length hair. It was the color of dark brown sugar. Alissa noticed how pretty Genevieve was. Here it was the middle of the day and she was at home with a toddler, yet she wore gold hoop earrings and makeup to highlight her clear, gray eyes.
“How did you hear about the duplex?” Genevieve asked.
“Someone left me a note at work. I’m not sure who it was.”
“We haven’t advertised,” Genevieve said. “It’s all been through referrals. I wonder who it was?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Have you found another place?” Genevieve asked.
“Not yet, but I have a few options.” Alissa thought of the one small apartment she had just looked at that was immediately available if she wanted to sign a six-month lease. It was a dark downstairs unit with badly stained rose-colored carpet. But it was the only one on her list that allowed pets. And she would never give up Chloe.
“Do you allow pets?” Alissa ventured.
“Small ones, yes. Shelly had a kitten when she first moved in but gave it to our girls since she was traveling so much.”
“Whiskers.” Mallory said, then hid her face in her mom’s neck.
“My cat’s name is Chloe,” Alissa said, trying to draw out the little girl.
“Would you like to have a peek inside the duplex?” Genevieve asked.
Alissa agreed, and as they walked up to the front entrance, Genevieve said, “It would actually be like having a part-time roommate since Shelly is gone so much.”
“Like Daddy,” Mallory chimed in and hid again.
“My husband is a commercial pilot. He flies a route to the Orient.” She turned the key in the front door, which Alissa could now see was a two-part, dutch door. It added even more charm to the unit. As they stepped inside, she caught her breath.
“The furniture is like mine! Did Shelly buy the wicker pieces at Pier 1 Imports?”
“I don’t know.”
“And this poster of Portugal. I have one of the same place.”
“I would say there’s a good chance you and Shelly would get along. The unit has two bedrooms and a dishwasher but only one bathroom. My favorite feature is out here.” She led Alissa through the spacious living room and out the back door. “This is our garden.”
Alissa stopped and tried to drink it all in from the small landing that opened to lush green grass. Tall trees provided a canopy from the June afternoon heat. A brick trail lined a neatly kept rose garden and led to a wooden archway that housed two small benches facing each other. To the right side, toward Genevieve’s home, lay an intricate maze of colorful flowers lining the brick walkway. A swing hung by long ropes from a thick-trunked tree, and a small wading pool glimmered in the sunny spot of the common yard.
“This is beautiful,” Alissa said.
“Thank you. I love to garden.”
“This is more than a garden,” Alissa said. “This is …”
“This is home,” Genevieve stated.
With a catch in her throat, Alissa swallowed and nodded. It had been a long, long time since she had felt like anywhere was home. Yet she had to agree. If any place on earth felt like home, this was it.
“I’ll take it,” she heard herself say.
Chapter Two
I wish it were that simple,” Genevieve said. “You see, the other part I didn’t explain yet is that it needs to be Shelly’s choice. I’m only helping her out by showing the place. She would, of course, like to meet and interview you.”
“Of course. When will she be back?”
“I’ll have to check her calendar. She’s usually gone four days at a time.”
Alissa’s heart sank.
“I can try leaving a message for her, if that would help. She could call you in a day or two, and perhaps you could chat on the phone.”
“I’m in a difficult situation,” Alissa said. She briefly explained about the landlord and needing to sign the lease agreement tonight or let the condo go.
“I see your problem,” Genevieve said. Mallory had hopped down and was stalking a butterfly in a bunch of Shasta daisies. “I wish I could make the decision for Shelly. But I can’t.”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to. I have to get back to work. I’ll give you a call this afternoon, and maybe we can figure something out.”
Back at the office, three customers were waiting, and both Cheri and Renée were on the phone and had customers at their desks. Alissa was nearly five minutes late. A stack of six messages waited for her.
“Who was next?” she asked.
An older couple rose together. He pulled out the chair at Alissa’s desk for the woman and made sure she was situated before he sat down. Alissa thought it was sweet to see a couple in their sunset years being polite to each other and holding hands.
“What can I do for you?”
They looked at each other tenderly, and the woman said, “We’d like to go to Italy.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Alissa said, smiling at the white-haired woman who wore slightly smeared red lipstick and had a bright gleam in her eye.
“Spare no expense,” the balding man said. “All the best hotels. Rome, Florence, Venice. Nothing’s too good for my Rosie.”
“Oh, Chet,” the woman purred.
Alissa reached in the side drawer for some brochures on Italy and smiled at the charm of this couple. “We have several tour packages available, or if you’d like, we can arrange the accommodations, and you can take the sightseeing at your own pace. How long would you like to stay?”
“A month,” he said. “Minimum. We’d like to keep our own schedule. And don’t rent a car for us. We’ll take the trains. First class, of course. Do they still offer those rail passes?”
“Yes. We can arrange Eurail Passes for you. When did you want to begin your trip?”
“Anytime after the fifteenth. That’s our wedding day.”
Alissa smiled again. She tried to guess if this was their golden anniversary. They looked old enough to have been married for fifty years.
Fifty years. What would it be like to spend fifty years with the same person?
“Would you like to start out in Rome or Venice?”
“Which is more romantic?” Rosie asked. Alissa thought she caught a hint of mischief in Ro
sie’s eyes.
“Rome is beautiful, especially this time of year before the late summer heat. I’ve never been to Venice, but of course it’s a fabulously romantic city.” Alissa opened the brochure and pointed to a photo of a gondola. “Hundreds of canals to explore. Lots of history.”
Chet leaned forward and said with a wink, “Don’t know if we’ll have time to explore all the canals. We’ll be busy making our own history.”
“Oh, Chet,” Rosie said pressing her cheek against his shoulder.
“Which one do you want to start with, honey? Venice or Rome?”
“Venice.”
“Venice it is.” Chet winked again at Alissa and said, “Reserve us the best suite in the whole city for our first night. It’s our honeymoon.”
“Your honeymoon?”
They nodded.
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations.” Alissa felt slightly off balance. They had a strong attraction and so much affection at their age. “Did you meet around here?”
“Oh, no,” Rosie said. “We met in Des Moines back in ’43. We were high school sweethearts.”
Alissa leaned back. She had to hear this story.
“Chet went off to war, you know.”
“But we were promised to each other,” he added. “Secretly.”
“My parents didn’t approve of his family,” Rosie confided, lowering her voice and shaking her head. “I kept his ring hidden, and he sent his letters to my girlfriend’s house. We planned to elope the moment he returned home, before my parents had anything to say about it. Then the letters stopped coming. I waited and waited.”
“They listed me as deceased,” Chet said. “Can you imagine? I took a tiny bit of shrapnel in the noggin. Right here.” He leaned forward so Alissa could get a good look at the top of his bald head. Sure enough, there was a two-inch long scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.
“They carted me off to some second-class army hospital where my ID got mixed up with someone else’s. I didn’t find out until I was ready to come home six months later, and she was gone.”
“Gone?” Alissa asked.
Rosie shrugged her shoulders. “I married Joe. I didn’t have a choice. Everyone in town believed Chet was dead.”
“She really didn’t have a choice,” Chet added. “You’ve never met her parents. They wanted her to marry an Elderidge boy since the day she was born. Elderidges had all the money, you know.”
Alissa nodded. “So what happened?”
Cheri stepped over and placed a note in front of Alissa. It read, “Please call Mr. Brannigan right away.”
“Would you two please excuse me a moment?”
Chet glanced at his watch. “Oh, dear, look at the time. We have to go, honey. The florist is expecting us in ten minutes, and you know how slow I drive.” He chuckled and grinned, exposing lots of gold in his back teeth. “We’ll have to come back and see you tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Alissa said reluctantly. She felt as if someone had yanked her away from a suspense novel right at the good part. “Tomorrow morning would be fine. I’ll put together a tentative itinerary for you, and we can discuss it then. Shall we say nine o’clock?”
Rosie and Chet looked at each other. “Don’t we meet with the caterer tomorrow at nine?” Rosie asked.
“I believe it’s the preacher at nine and the caterer at eleven.” Chet stood and helped Rosie from her chair. Alissa noticed for the first time that Rosie’s left arm hung limp.
“I’ll be here all day tomorrow,” Alissa said. “Come in whenever you can. I’ll look forward to seeing you then. I’m eager to hear what happened.”
Rosie gave Alissa a little-girl grin. “It’s like any good love story, dear. It has a happy ending.”
Alissa could see that. The two held hands on their way out the door.
Cheri motioned for Alissa to take the next call as it rang through to her desk. Slipping on the headset, she answered the call from Mr. Brannigan. “How are you, Mr. Brannigan?”
“We’ve decided to cancel at the Heathman altogether and go on the Alaska cruise instead. We’ll take the ten-day package.”
“All right,” Alissa said, swiftly entering the change into his electronic folder on the computer. “And which cruise did you want? The June cruise begins on the fifteenth, and the deposit is due ten days ahead which makes it …” She flipped through her desk calendar. “Tomorrow. Are you comfortable with that?”
“No problem. Put it on our account, and we’ll set sail on the fifteenth.”
Alissa hung up and with extra care planned a twenty-eight-day Italian tour. This was the part of her job she loved the most. Because she enjoyed traveling, whenever she planned an itinerary, it was as if a little piece of her stowed away and went on tour with the clients. Alissa wondered as she printed out Chet and Rosie’s schedule if she would be seventy before she ended up with the right man.
Then, as her own secret signature and blessing on the travel plans, Alissa kissed her fingertip and blew the kiss toward the still warm copies. Her action made her think of her dream to have her own travel agency someday. She would call it A Wing and a Prayer and would specialize in helping people realize travel opportunities they didn’t know were available to them. Alissa had a lot of dreams. But she had put them on hold far too long.
After work, she drove by the duplex. Again, the street, the front of the house, and the memory of the garden out back filled her with a peace that had been missing for a long time.
“Lord,” she whispered, “I haven’t asked you for anything in a long time. This duplex seems like the perfect home for me. Is this where you want me to live? I don’t know what you want from me anymore. If you want to know what I want, this is it. As long as Shelly is a normal person, that is. At this point, only you can answer that. Okay, Lord? Do we have an understanding here? It’s down to the final hour. I need an answer. Please.”
No answer rolled in through her open car window. No fingers wrote yes or no in the sky.
“I wish you wouldn’t make me trust like this. I wish you’d make decisions like this a little easier.”
After letting out a heavy sigh, Alissa popped her car into gear. She drove past the duplex and down the street, no further along in her decision-making than she had been an hour ago.
As soon as she unlocked the front door of her condo, Alissa called for Chloe. The big, midnight black cat with a white patch on her nose came out of the bedroom with an affectionate “meow.” Alissa lifted her and went into the living room. They settled in the middle of the wicker love seat, where Alissa began to stroke Chloe and to line up her options one more time. “I don’t know what to do, Chloe. Should I go on faith and assume I can get the duplex?”
Chloe meowed.
“Oh, excuse me. Should I assume we can get the duplex? You’d love the backyard, Tiger. It would be your jungle, and you’d even have Whiskers to keep you company.”
Chloe meowed again.
“I know. It sounds too good to be true. That’s what I thought.”
A silent moment stretched between them.
“You know what? I’m going to do it.”
Alissa jumped up, taking Chloe under her arm into the kitchen. “We’re going to sign off on this place and hope and pray and pray and hope we get the duplex. I told Genevieve I’d call her and we’d try to work something out. Let’s call her.”
Chloe jumped onto the counter as Alissa fished in her purse for the apartment list. She called Genevieve and asked if she had heard from Shelly yet.
“Not yet. I left a message. Hopefully she’ll call this evening. I gave her your number. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“No, of course not. I hope she calls, too. Thank you.”
Just as Alissa hung up, the doorbell rang twice. “Go see who it is, will you, Chloe?”
Chloe meowed, and Alissa roughed up her fur, saying, “I was only teasing. I’ll get it. As always. Come with me.” She picked up her pet and went to the door. The new landlord s
tood there with the papers in his hand.
Alissa hesitated a bit before saying, “I’m not going to sign. I’m going to move.”
The short man looked furious as he snapped the papers back and said in a controlled voice, “Then you must be out within two weeks. It is the law.”
“Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll be out in two weeks.”
The phone rang, which offered Alissa an excuse to close the door on the man. She grabbed the receiver and balanced it on her shoulder. “Hello?”
It was Shelly. Alissa felt a little tremor of goose bumps dance up her arm. Whenever coincidences like this happened, Alissa felt as if God was alive and right there with her rather than watching from a distance.
“Thanks for calling back. I suppose Genevieve told you I’d like to talk to you about the duplex.”
“She did. And she told me you liked the place. Apparently we have matching furniture or something.”
“The wicker,” Alissa said, feeling comfortable with Shelly’s lively voice. “I have the love seat and one chair to the set.”
“Sounds like a match! Will you fill out a credit check and all that preliminary stuff, and do me a favor and drop it by Genevieve’s so she can run it through? Then when I come home next Monday night, we can get together and decide if our personalities match as well as our furniture.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Great! And you have a cat?”
“Yes, Chloe. She’s been with me through thick and thin for almost seven years now.”
“She sounds like a sweetie. I have to run. I’ll give you a call on Monday. Nice meeting you over the phone.”
“Nice meeting you, too.”
Alissa hung up and headed for the refrigerator. “A little cream to celebrate, Chloe? Looks like we won’t be out on the streets.” She poured the half and half into a saucer and placed it on the floor. Chloe immediately entered into the celebration.
Alissa recognized the familiar feeling coming over her. For the past few years, her relationship with God had been a tug-of-war.
Not that she thought God was always wrong and she was right, nor that she always expected to have her own way. But after all she had been through, she needed proof, evidence of his supreme power. Facts, not feelings. She had had enough feelings for one lifetime.