“Callie,” Olivia said, entering the kitchen with a man. He had dark hair, a thin build, and a smile that would put any stranger at ease. “This is Aiden Parker. He’s finalized the plans for the back porches.”
Callie walked over and shook his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said. Olivia had driven up to the cottage the day Aiden had come to survey the property, but Callie was still settling things back in Richmond, and she’d told Olivia to just go with her instincts on the plans. Callie trusted her more than anyone else, and she knew that Olivia would make a perfect choice regarding the back porches. After seeing Aiden’s initial plans when she’d first arrived at The Beachcomber, she realized she’d been right.
Callie dried her hands on a towel and stepped over to them to give them her full attention. “Olivia’s told me a lot about you.”
Aiden cast an amused glance over to Olivia. “That’s scary,” he said with a grin. “Considering most of our stories have something to do with college parties…”
Olivia and Aiden had gone to college together, and he’d lived in the same apartment building on the floor just under hers. He’d been the first person Olivia had met when she’d gotten to college, which happened to be her birthday. He’d taken her out that night, and every year after until they graduated. With life having pulled them in different directions after graduation, Olivia had said she was glad to have a chance to see him again.
Callie jokingly scolded Olivia with a look to let her know that she’d held out on her. “Well, clearly she wasn’t telling me the right stories, then.”
Aiden laughed and looked over at Olivia again. When he did, it was clear by the friendliness in his face that their shared experiences were all happy ones. “I’m glad she asked me to do this. I haven’t been back to the Outer Banks in ages. I’ve forgotten how great it is.”
“Did you used to vacation here?” Callie asked.
“I lived here for quite a few years.” He peeked out the back window, changing course. “I think adding the back porches will really change this place.”
“Thank you for giving us such a deal,” Olivia said.
Aiden had done all the plans for free. They were only paying for the crew, which, given their budget, was still a hefty price tag, but the result would be amazing.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Anything for a friend.” He smiled warmly at her. “Mind if I run out to the car? I’m going to grab my laptop and take a few measurements and photos. When I’m done, I’ll be able to show you a mock-up of what it will look like.”
“Oh, that’ll be wonderful,” Callie said with excitement, but before she could say anything more, there was a click and a hum—the most glorious sounding hum ever. She ran over to the floor vent and stood on it, feeling a rush of cool air on her bare feet. “Air’s on!” she said to Olivia, unable to control her happiness. The HVAC people had been upgrading the outdoor unit this morning as well. Things were moving right along, and she couldn’t be more thrilled.
After she’d seen the mock-up, Callie left Olivia to tend to Aiden while she got busy working in the formal living room. With all the rough spots sanded, and the painting started, she was just finishing up. She poured light blue paint into the tray and slid her roller through it, rolling it back and forth to get the excess off. Then she pushed it along the wall, the beautiful color transforming the space right in front of her eyes.
Callie had gotten the other half of the room done before Gladys let herself in. She had suggested Gladys come over if she got bored, so they could chat while she worked.
“Oh! It looks nice!” she said, tottering into the room. “It’s going to be just lovely. I can hardly take all this excitement with you all across the street, the changes to the house, the thrill of the bed and breakfast and all the delightful visitors it will draw… It’s all just wonderful!” She dropped herself down into the chair.
“This house has been very quiet for a long time after Alice closed the bed and breakfast. But I understood. She was aging, you know. Her hips didn’t work like they used to, and she just couldn’t do all that running around anymore.”
“We found something else of hers,” Callie said as she climbed down the small ladder she’d been using to paint up near the trim at the ceiling. “We think. It’s an old lockbox.”
Gladys frowned. “Really? Anything in it?”
Callie shook her head and went to get the box from the kitchen pantry where they’d stowed it away.
“Look,” she said, coming back in with it. She sat down in a chair and scooted closer to Gladys, turning the box around. “It says ‘FM’. That could be her brother.”
Gladys rubbed her hands together, thinking. “It would make sense. Frederick McFarlin.”
“We should get it back to him,” Callie said, moving closer and wiping the initials to try to clear the old brass again, but she was unsuccessful. The metal had aged with time, the shiny finish she kept striving to get, gone. “But there were so many Frederick McFarlins when we looked the other night, remember?”
Gladys tucked her hair back behind her ear dramatically. “I might know someone who could get us in touch with him.”
“Oh?” Callie had picked up the roller again to paint but set it back down.
“I have coffee with some ladies in town and one of them, Adelaide Foster, might know him. She used to do business with him, I believe, but it’s been quite a while. He was a handyman. I’ll see if she still has his number.”
“That would be great.” Callie felt so good knowing that the lockbox might be returned. While there was probably nothing of worth inside it—or surely Frederick would’ve kept it—it still had an air of mystery around it since it had obviously been hidden away in that built-in. “Maybe we could give him the journal too, since it was his sister’s.”
“Have you peeked inside it anymore?”
“No.”
Gladys nodded with understanding, probably knowing how private Callie was. She’d feel guilty prying. “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said, fluttering her hands in the air. “Paint, paint!” She set the lockbox down beside her chair while Callie resumed her work. “So tell me while you work. You’re spending some time with that young man, Luke Sullivan?”
“He’s just a friend,” Callie said, the prickle of emotion causing a flutter and making her cheeks burn as she pushed the roller up the wall.
When Gladys didn’t say anything, she turned around.
“You didn’t sound very convincing,” Gladys said with a smirk.
“Well my tone was by accident then. I barely know him.”
Gladys nodded. “He certainly seemed interested in you—I could tell by the way he looked at you.”
“Do you think?” She took in a breath and resumed painting, trying to keep the ridiculous smile off her face. With her focus still on the wall, she asked, as coolly and collectedly as she could, “What do you know about him?”
“I don’t know him,” she said. “But I saw him do something really nice once.”