As Young As We Feel Read online

  Mom laughed loudly. "Thanks for the ice-cream maker, sweetie." She waved as she got into her old Willys Jeep, then drove away.

  Abby went back inside, but before she could close the oversized front door, a breeze blew threw the great room and, catching the heavy, solid door, slammed it with a loud bang that echoed throughout the quiet house. For some reason Abby heard a feeling of finality in that sound, like what it might be to have a prison door shut behind her after they'd locked her up and thrown away the key. Her picture-perfect house. Her prison. And here she was, crying again.

  Chapter 8

  JANIE

  "I'm so glad you called." Abby sounded genuinely happy to hear Janie's voice, which made Janie wonder once again if Abby was a bit lonely, although that seemed impossible considering her happy marriage, her hometown life, and her nearby family.

  Janie quickly explained her need to do something with her parents' home. "It seems the simplest solution would be to just sell it. But that could be a challenge from New York. I need a good realtor that I can really trust."

  "I know the perfect person for you. Her name is Lois Schuler, and she's worked in real estate for at least twenty years. She knows everyone in town."

  "I thought you'd have a good recommendation." Janie slid her feet into her loafers as she gazed out the window. Her hotel suite overlooked the wharf, and from what she could see, Monday was going to be another gorgeous day on the Oregon coast.

  "Lois has her own office," Abby continued, "just a few doors down from Clifden Coffee Company. Schuler Realty. There's a model of a big wooden lighthouse right next to the entrance."

  "Oh yes, I've seen that."

  "If you like, I could meet you in town for coffee, then introduce you to Lois. I'm guessing she won't be in before nine."

  "You don't mind? I don't want to take up too much of your-"

  "I'd love to come. Give me about twenty minutes, okay?"

  "Sounds perfect."

  "I wonder if Caroline would like to join us too." Abby sounded hopeful.

  "I can check and find out."

  "I'm sure Marley must be on the road by now."

  "Yes. She planned to leave early this morning."

  "Anyway, I'll see you in a few."

  They both hung up and Janie, out of habit, dug out her laptop and turned it on. She was supposed to be on vacation, but everyone in her firm knew there really was no such thing. And everyone knew never to go off and leave themselves disconnected.

  "No rest for the wicked," Phil used to say when they'd try to plan a quiet little getaway. But sometimes the constant need to be in touch did get old.

  Not surprisingly she had a few "urgent" e-mails. She handled one of them herself, delegated another to an underling, and flagged the last one for later. Then it was time to meet Abby. Of course, as she was leaving her room, she remembered Caroline. Abby had wanted to invite her. For some reason Janie had blocked that out of her mind when she hung up the phone. Probably Freudian.

  In truth she was feeling a bit jealous of Caroline and the way she'd so smoothly arranged to have a surfing date with Victor Zilkowski. Although Janie had no interest in surfing. The last time she'd attempted such a feat was in Hawaii when her kids were preteens and Phil had insisted they all take a lesson. A few nasty wipeouts later, Janie had bowed out and opted for a warm strip of sand instead. No, she had no intentions of squeezing into a smelly wet suit and attacking the Oregon surf. But she might like to watch.

  In the hotel lobby she dialed Caroline's cell phone, and when Caroline answered, Janie explained her plan. "Would you like to join us?"

  "Sure," Caroline said cheerfully. "But I can't stay long. I need to do a little shopping before I head over to Victor's."

  "Oh, right." Janie fibbed. "I forgot about your surfing date."

  Caroline laughed. "Oh, it's not a date. Just good fun. Do you want to come?"

  Feeling a little coy, Janie said she'd think about it, then told Caroline they could catch up at the coffee place. As she walked through town, Janie wondered what kinds of things Caroline would need to shop for before a surfing expedition. A bikini perhaps? Janie snickered at the idea of a fifty-something woman in a bikini. She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a bikini, but it was definitely BC-before children. After two cesarean births, Janie's midsection was not fit for public viewing.

  But Caroline had never had kids. Not only that, she was tan and fit and had those implants, too. No doubt she would look great in a bikini and probably would show a lot of skin today. Even as Janie thought this, she felt utterly foolish. What difference did it make what Caroline wore or did? For all Janie cared, Caroline could go in the buff. Really, what was it to Janie? And why was she acting like an adolescent, obsessing over the silliest of trivialities?

  "Hey there," called Abby as they arrived simultaneously. "Good timing."

  "Yes." Janie smiled.

  "You seemed deep in thought," Abby said as they went inside. "I hope nothing's wrong."

  "No." Janie shook her head. "Just thinking."

  They both ordered coffee, then found a table. "I took the liberty of giving Lois a jingle before I left home," Abby told her. "I know your time in town is short, and I thought we might want to make sure we caught her."

  "Oh, I appreciate that."

  "Anyway, she said she'd pop over and meet us here for coffee." Abby smiled in an apologetic way. "I hope that's okay."

  "That's fine. And Caroline should be coming too." Janie explained about Caroline's need to do some shopping before the big surfing date.

  "Is it really a date?" Abby looked surprised.

  "No, not really. In fact Caroline sort of invited herself."

  Abby's brow creased slightly. "Do you think Caroline is interested in Victor? I mean romantically?"

  Janie just shrugged. "Maybe. I don't see why not. He's a nice guy and he seems to be pretty comfortable. Caroline might think he's a good catch." Janie felt like she was being catty. "But I'm not suggesting that Caroline is out fishing for men."

  "She might be." Abby nodded. "I happen to know she's not that happy in her work and she-" She stopped herself, then waved. "There she is."

  Their conversation shifted gears, and by the time Caroline joined them with her coffee, they were discussing real estate. "The market's been pretty much like everywhere-pretty slow," Abby was saying. "Except our prices haven't dropped quite as much, but I think that has to do with the location. Coastal real estate holds its value better than some places."

  "So even if I list my parents' house this week, I might be waiting a while to see it sell?"

  "Lois can give you a better idea about that. But I'm guessing it will take some time."

  "Maybe I should talk to her about listing my mom's house," Caroline said.

  "You're really going to move her, then?" asked Abby.

  Caroline frowned. "I'm not sure. But I have until Thursday to figure it out. I don't know how I'll manage to get it all done by then."

  "I'm surprised you wanted to take the time to go surfing today," Janie said. "I mean, if you have so much to do."

  Caroline just smiled. "You know what they say about all work and no play."

  Abby nodded in agreement. "Yes, and when I think about poor Cathy Gardener, I think we all need to take more time to enjoy life."

  Janie considered this. "You're probably right. It just doesn't come easily to me."

  Caroline made a sympathetic face. "I don't know how you do it, Janie. Being a New York lawyer and all that responsibility and everything. It must be exhausting."

  Janie softened toward Caroline now. "Yes. Sometimes it really is. Even this week. I'm supposed to be on vacation, and yet this morning I opened my laptop and started to work."

  "You need to give yourself a break," Caroline told her. "Especially considering all that you've been through the past several years. Why don't you just take a month or so off? Rent yourself a little beach house in some nice sunny place like the Bahamas."

&nbs
p; Janie sighed. "I wish."

  "I'd be happy to join you there," offered Caroline. "I could be your cook and housekeeper."

  Janie laughed. "You make it tempting."

  "I want to come too," said Abby. "We could all run away."

  "And we should invite Marley, too," joked Janie. "Four Lindas on the lam."

  "Can anyone join this party?" said a tall, dark-haired woman in a taupe business suit. Abby introduced Janie and Caroline to Lois Schuler, and she joined them with her coffee.

  "I'm not a hundred percent sure I want to sell my parents' house," Janie admitted. "I need to figure out how much I'll lose in taxes and all that. Also, I need to see what the market's like and whether I might be better off turning it into a rental property."

  "Those are all good questions." Lois nodded as she made some notes. "My company also handles income properties as well as vacation rentals. Depending on the location and condition of your house, you might want to consider renting it as a vacation cabin."

  "It's close to the beach," Caroline pointed out.

  "But it doesn't have an ocean view," Janie explained to Lois. "Still, you can walk there in about five minutes."

  "And you can walk to town in about five minutes too," Caroline added. "As I recall, it was really a cool little house."

  Janie told Lois the address, and the realtor nodded as she noted it. "That's one of those old neighborhoods that's becoming desirable again."

  "I noticed a lot of houses have been fixed up in there," Janie said. "Unfortunately my parents' house isn't one of them."

  "You should see my mom's house." Caroline shook her head. "Actually I don't want anyone to see it, although I know it'll be necessary. But I'm thinking it might be best to have it torn down so I can sell the lot."

  "You never know," Lois told her. "A lot of people are looking for fixers these days."

  "Well, it's a fixer, all right." Caroline rolled her eyes. "It would help if my mother could be coaxed to throw anything away. Really, it's a fire trap. I should probably call someone with some authority to come and look at it."

  Lois wrote down a name and phone number for Caroline. "Why don't you give her a call? I think she could help you to locate some resources."

  "Thanks!" Caroline glanced at her watch. "Well, I hate to drink and run, but I've got a busy day ahead. Nice meeting you, Lois. Will I see you over at Victor's, Janie?"

  Janie laughed. "I'm not sure."

  "You should come too, Abby," Caroline urged. "Maybe we can have a picnic lunch on the beach-kind of like we used to do as kids."

  Abby looked interested. "Sure, that sounds fun. Maybe I could fix something and bring it over."

  "All right." Caroline nodded as she hooked the strap of her oversized bag over a tan shoulder. "See you later!"

  "She's sure a perky one," Lois said as Caroline left.

  "She's always been like that," Abby told her.

  "So you've known each other for a while?"

  "Since first grade," Abby said. "Can you believe it?"

  "You're all the same age?" Lois looked surprised.

  "That's right." Janie nodded.

  "I know what you're thinking," Abby said to Lois. "I look like I'm at least ten years older than both of them."

  "No, no. That's not what I-"

  "You're right." Abby frowned. "I know it's true. I've really let myself go these past few years. But I plan to start doing something about it now. I really, really do. I just don't know what."

  They laughed.

  "Just take care of yourself," Janie told her. "Remember what we were saying? You need to put yourself back on the list."

  "That's right," Lois agreed.

  They finished up their coffee, and after Abby left, Lois offered to drive Janie over to walk through her parents' house. "It's a place to begin," she told her. "What you do from there is entirely up to you."

  "It's pretty run-down," Janie admitted as they pulled up in front of the small ranch-style house. The overgrown yard was weedy and brown, and blackberry bushes had swallowed what was left of a rotten fence. "I spoke to a landscape service about getting someone over here on a regular basis. I should've done it a long time ago, but life's been busy."

  "And New York is a world away from Clifden."

  "You got that right."

  Janie unlocked and opened the door. As always, walking into the musty-smelling old house brought back all kinds of memories. But nothing particularly happy. "It's pretty much cleared out," Janie told Lois. "Between Goodwill, Salvation Army, and a storage unit, I've been trying to get it ready to be sold. But I haven't had anyone come in to clean or anything yet."

  "At a minimum you should consider getting it painted in here," Lois said as they walked through the dingy living room. "Just a nice, clean neutral color."

  "There are hardwood floors underneath this horrid carpeting. I'm guessing they might be in pretty good shape."

  "These single-pane windows need replacing," observed Lois. "If anyone wanted to buy it with a conventional loan. But I did notice that the roof looks sound."

  "Yes, I paid to have it replaced about five years ago."

  "And be thankful that it's on a foundation. That's important. A lot of houses around here aren't."

  "Oh."

  Lois went into the kitchen and just shook her head. "Not much updating in here, I see."

  Janie laughed. "Nothing in here has changed since when I was a kid. I tried and tried to talk my mom into a dishwasher, but she was so set in her ways. She honestly believed that dishwashers couldn't get things really clean."

  Lois looked at the old aqua-blue appliances and smiled. "These might actually be collectable, although I hate to think of how much energy they use. Is this fridge running?"

  Janie nodded. "I'm afraid so."

  "You might as well unplug it and have it removed. No sense in throwing your money away on electricity."

  "Right."

  Lois was peeking in the half bathroom now. "This old tile looks like it's in nearly perfect condition," she said wryly. "And the fixtures, too. Now, if you can find a buyer who's into fifties retro and mint green, you'll be set."

  "But hasn't Mid-Century Modern been popular?"

  Lois laughed. "That's true, but I'm afraid most of those people are thinking more along the lines of Frank Lloyd Wright. They don't necessarily appreciate Pepto-Bismol pink plumbing fixtures."

  Suddenly Janie was seeing her parents' house with different eyes. "What if this place was stripped clean? I mean what if I removed all the old horrible cabinets and fixtures, and the nasty carpetingand replaced the windows? And I'd put in some sleek Mid-Century Modern touches and good paint colors. I wonder what a place like this could sell for."

  "I can do some comps for you if you like," offered Lois. "Put it side by side with homes in this neighborhood that have been renovated."

  "Yes." Janie nodded. "I'd like that."

  "Well, I have an appointment for a showing at ten thirty." Lois glanced at her watch. "I should be going."

  Janie smiled and shook her hand. "I'm going to stick around here for a bit," she said. "I can walk back to town. Thanks for your help. I'll be in touch." After Lois left, Janie continued to walk around her parents' house. No, she told herself, this wasn't her parents' house anymore. It was Janie's house. And she could do what she liked to it.

  She imagined sleek maple cabinets, granite countertops, and state-of-the-art stainless appliances in the kitchen. With glossy hardwood floors and modern furniture, this sleepy old ranch house could get a new life. Maybe she could too. The strangest part of her imaginings was that she thought she might actually be able to live here.

  That was pure craziness.

  "No way," she quietly told herself as she locked up the house and stepped away from the door. "I must be losing it. There's no way I could live here and be happy. No, I was delusional. The sea air must've messed with my mind." She turned her back and walked away, saying, "No way. No way. No way." Really, there was no wa
y. Or was there?

  Chapter 9

  MARLEY

  Marley switched over to the fast lane again. It was her best method for remaining alert and awake and safe. Stay in the fast lane. Focus, concentrate, don't be distracted, and don't get a speeding ticket. Her insurance had already gone up twice. Since her divorce she'd become careless about driving and had racked up one fenderbender and three speeding citations. Any more unfortunate traffic troubles, and she'd have to store her car and start using mass transit or biking to work.

  Biking actually sounded like fun. Once upon a time she'd been an avid bicyclist and one of her goals was to do the coast highway from the Oregon-Washington border down to California and maybe farther. But John always balked at the idea. "It would take too long. It's too dangerous. Why not just drive?" Not that they ever had driven it. Perhaps she'd go dig her bike out of the storage unit and get it tuned up. She could imagine herself biking around Seattle. It would be fun. Except for those cold rainy days that could pop up any time of year. That might not be so fun. Plus she'd have several challenging hills to climb just to get back and forth from work, and navigating city traffic might be frightening, not to mention slightly suicidal. No, her best course of action might be to avoid any more traffic tickets. So she made her way from the fast lane over to the slow one. Really, wasn't that kind of how her life felt anyway? Like she was stuck in the slow lane?

  To distract herself from thinking-make that lamenting-over the metaphorical speed of her life, she turned on some music, cranking it up high. A Carly Simon CD was in the player, and before long Marley was rocking out to the old "Mockingbird" song. But then she felt depressed as she wondered, not for the first time, why Carly Simon and James Taylor (two of music's most talented people) were unable to make their marriage last. Of course, she hadn't done any better with hers. But still.

  As she was singing along to "Haven't Got Time for the Pain," the lyrics hit her in a slightly painful way. Driving the speed limit, heading north on 1-5, Marley began to weep. First she thought her grief was aimed at Cathy Gardener-she no longer had time for the pain either. Not after Saturday night.