The House

“An admirer,” Audrey said, looking girlish again as she took her dry cleaning from Sarah. “All right, all right. They're from Tom.”

“Very impressive, Mom.” She could see at a glance that there were two dozen of them. “Have you heard from him since he left?”

“We're e-mailing,” Audrey said demurely.

“You are?” Sarah looked amazed again. “I didn't even know you had a computer.”

“I bought a laptop the day after he left,” she admitted, and then blushed. “It's fun.”

“Maybe I should open a dating service,” Sarah commented, amazed at all that had happened in just a few days.

“You could use your services yourself.” Sarah had told her that she and Phil had broken up. She hadn't explained it, she just said that they had run out of gas, and for once Audrey just let it go at that.

“I'm too busy right now with the house,” Sarah said. She was wearing overalls again and on her way there.

“Don't use that as an excuse, the way you do your work.”

“I'm not,” she said, looking stubborn.

“Tom said he would love to introduce you to his son. He's a year older than you are, and recently divorced.”

“I know, and he lives in St. Louis. That's not going to do me much good, Mom.” Or maybe Audrey, either, but it had boosted her spirits and her self-esteem to meet Tom.

“What about the architect you hired to work on the house? Is he single, and decent-looking?”

“He's fine, and so is the woman he's lived with for fourteen years. They own the business together, and a house in Potrero Hill.”

“I guess that won't work. Well, someone will turn up when you least expect it.”

“Yeah, like the Hillside Strangler or Charles Manson. I can hardly wait,” Sarah said cynically. She was feeling bitter about men these days. Phil had left a bad taste in her mouth, after his final escapade.

“Don't be so negative,” her mother scolded her. “You sound depressed.”

“No”—Sarah shook her head—“just tired. I had a lot of work at the office this week.”

“When don't you?” her mother said, walking her to the door, and then they both heard the bell on her laptop ring and say “You've got mail!” Sarah raised an eyebrow and smiled at her mother.

“Cupid calls!”

They kissed each other, and Sarah left. She was glad her mother's introduction to Tom had gone so well. Nothing much could come of it, with him in St. Louis, but it was nice for both of them. She had a feeling he was lonely, and Audrey was as well. Everybody needed roses from time to time. And e-mail from a friend.

Chapter 16

By the end of February, Sarah had copper pipes throughout the house, and parts of the house had new wiring as well. They were doing it floor by floor. In March they started laying the groundwork for the kitchen. It was exciting watching things come in. She had picked her appliances from books in Jeff's office, he was buying them for her wholesale. The house wasn't ready for her to move in yet, but it was going well. They told her the rest of the electrical work would be complete by April.

“Why don't you go on a vacation?” Jeff suggested one night when they were laying down templates in the kitchen, to make sure all her appliances would fit. She was putting in a big butcher-block island in the center, and he was afraid it would be too crowded, but Sarah insisted it would work. As it turned out, she was right.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” She laughed at him. “Am I driving you crazy?” No, he told her, but Marie-Louise was. She was on one of her tangents, hating everything about the States, including him. She was threatening to go back to France. It was that time of year, when she was missing spring in Paris. She didn't leave for her three-month summer there till June. He was counting the days, although he hated to admit it. But she was hard to live with at times.

“There isn't much you can do right now till we finish the electrical and the kitchen. I think if you go away for a few weeks, you might be able to move in when you get back. That would be exciting for you,” he said, suggesting the vacation again. He loved helping her with the house. It reminded him of when he had done his own in Potrero Hill. Hers was on a far grander scale, of course, but the same principles prevailed, although every old house had quirks of its own.

“I can't stay away from the office for that long,” Sarah complained.

“Give us two weeks then. If you go away in mid-April, I promise you can move in on May first.” She jumped up and down like a kid when he said it, and that night she thought about it with some seriousness.