I peeked at it and noted that, although the bathroom measured half the size of the one at Sam’s place, it didn’t feel cramped. The pedestal sink, tub and toilet abutted the wall shared with my bedroom. White tile covered the walls to about midway except for the shower area where the tiles ran from tub to ceiling. Dark blue paint coated the walls offsetting the overabundance of white. She’d also defused the white of the plastic shower curtain by layering a dark blue cloth shower curtain over it using a cute white flower clip to swag it to the side. Everything looked neat and clean.
Finally, she led us to the kitchen. An addition to the kitchen, extending it five feet into the backyard, brought it from worthless to functional. Just inside the kitchen arch, to the right, a table for four abutted the interior wall. Beyond that, on the wall facing the driveway a counter supporting the sink ran from wall to wall, providing two cupboards on each side of the sink in addition to the two cupboards below the sink. Two separate wall cupboards hung on either side of the sink allowing light through the kitchens only window. The refrigerator stood to the left of the arched kitchen entry, along with four more cupboards top and bottom. Standing free the stove occupied the unclaimed space on the exterior wall. Just enough room separated the cabinetry from the stove to allow the bottom cabinet door to swing open. A garbage can hid between the stove and the door leading to the wooden deck and backyard.
Overall, the exterior condition of the house didn’t match the inside. The exposed carpet in the living room looked worn but relatively stain-free. The walls and ceiling could use a fresh coat of paint, but with the string of switching roommates over the last five years, the landlord probably hadn’t had a chance.
Rachel concluded the tour out on the back deck. “We’ll take turns mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow. The garage is only one car. To be fair, we’ll switch parking too, but we’ll work that out when it starts snowing.”
I nodded in agreement looking at our small backyard. It reminded me of the Newton’s and I suffered an uncomfortable moment of longing before I clamped down on the feeling. A new looking barn-red wooden fence separated our backyard from the neighbor’s behind us, while evergreen hedges barred the rest of the yard from the neighbors on each side. With the deck and garage, there really wasn’t a lot of grass to mow in back, but the front yard made up for it a bit.
During the tour, Sam remained quiet closely looking over the house, trailing behind us. Outside, he stood beside me studying the backyard as well. After a few moments of quiet, he sighed and said, “Well, Gabby, looks like you’ll be comfortable here. I’d better start heading back. You need anything, let me know.” He patted my cheek and stepped off the deck, neither of us good with drawn out good byes.
I watched him climb into his truck and waved when he looked back. Again, my emotions ran amuck for a few moments as I watched him pull away, nostalgia robbing me of my moment. I’d been so ready to leave and start out on my own I’d not inspected my feelings for Sam too closely. Now I knew. I’d miss him a lot.
Rachel seemed to understand and chatted as we went back into the house to settle me in.
“You have a nice Grandpa,” she said sitting on my bed as I unpacked.
I agreed, trying to shake the unhappiness I felt. Less than five hours ago, I looked forward to making my own rules. Here, in this house, I had the freedom I’d wanted. No more obligatory weekends in Canada. No meeting men I didn’t want to meet. My internal pep talk began to work and I started to unpack with more enthusiasm.
Rachel took a few of the wire hangers from the closet and helped hang the t-shirts I’d crammed into a bag. “Please tell me there is more in these bags than t-shirts,” she said sitting on the bed again. “I don’t mind them, they’re comfy, but where’s the night out clothes?”
“Um, I really don’t own any.” Watching her while I said it, I didn’t miss the shocked expression that briefly flitted over her features. I looked over my small pile of clothes, most of it already on hangers thanks to her help. It lacked diversity. I never noticed before.
She changed the subject. “Got your bathing suit handy? With the backyard surrounded, the deck is perfect for working on a tan.” Without waiting for my answer, she popped up from the bed and said, “Join me when you’re done,” as she left the room.
I finished unpacking and heard the back door a few minutes later. Bathing suit? I didn’t even own one.