Page 4 of Dream House
I laugh. “Good one.”
Pen blinks her impatience. “I’m serious.”
Again, my heartbeat steps up. “H-H-How would that work? Just share the house with a bunch of strangers?”
“You could pick and choose who you’d want as a tenant-slash-roommate.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Besides, this house is so big, it’s not like you wouldn’t have privacy. You and Tyler and Maisy could have the whole second floor.”
I frown. “But then I’d be giving the en suite bathroom to someone else.” Nanna’s bathroom is nothing short of wondrous. High back, cast iron, claw-footed tub, chrome-plated space heater—sure it’s a safety hazard, but I remember the enveloping heat like a comforting hug when Tyler and I would sleep over in the winter—and a stained glass window of blooming magnolias...
“No, if I’m living here, that bedroom—Nanna’s bedroom—is mine.”
Pen’s eyes sparkle. “That’s more like it.”
“What?”
She nods. “That fire. That pull to keep it.” Her smile is so smug I almost roll my eyes. “I’m glad to see you’re finally being honest with yourself.”
“I saidif. If I’m living here.”I don’t want to admit it, but she’s right. I want to be here. I already see myself here. But I’m still not sure how to make it work.
Pen glares. “Don’t tell me you’re still thinking of selling.”
I draw in a deep breath. If I sell, I don’t have to worry about the utilities. Or the roof. Or the insurance. Or the property taxes. Or the upkeep.
But then someone else—someone with no connection to Nanna Estelle—will be living in this house. Soaking in that cast-iron tub. And probably yanking out that space heater. Let’s face it, they’d probably change a lot of other things I love about this place too. The telephone stand tucked under the stairs. The glass door knobs. The heavy-duty monogrammed screen door with theLfor Nanna’s maiden name stamped in the aluminum grill.
I shake my head. “No, I’m not thinking of selling.” When I speak the words out loud, it happens again. My heart thumps quickly, like it’s a restless bird trying to lift me off the ground. And I don’t know if it’s afraid for me or ready to soar.
Maybe both.
Because I can’t just do this by myself. “You’d move in?”
“And pay rent,” she says nodding.
I frown. “I couldn’t ask you to pay rent. That’d be weird.”
Her scowl is almost mean. “You think you can keep this place from falling downandopen your dream salonandtake care of Tyler and Maisy all on your measly paycheck?”
“It’s notmeasly.”I do okay. With Tyler’s disability check, we make ends meet. I’ve even managed to save a little this last year.
“I’d pay rent,” Pen says again, giving me her best no-nonsense face. “And you have three other rooms you could rent out to help you make this place what you’d want it to be.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Wouldn’t that just be weird, though? Living in a house with strangers? Sharing bathrooms and a kitchen?”
“How’s that any different from a dorm?”
“I wouldn’t know.” No dorms in cosmetology school.
Pen snorts. “You well remember crashing in my dorm after nights at Marley’s.”
“I may not remember all the nights—” I give her a wry look. “But I do remember the mornings after. A hangover in a community-style bathroom is not something I want to revisit.”
Pen’s laughter is contagious.
“But, remember, you won’t have to. En suite bathroom and all that,” she teases.
I’m quiet for a while, considering. “You really think people would want to pay to rent a bedroom?”
Her brows climb. “Have you seen the rent prices around here? This house is only four blocks from the university. You could rent each of those rooms for three or four hundred dollars a month.”
