The House

She felt as though she were leaving home when she checked out of the hotel and took a cab to the airport. She could see now why Marie-Louise wanted to move back there. She'd have done the same if she could. It was a magical city, and Sarah's trip had been the best two weeks of her life. It didn't matter at all to her now that she'd gone alone. She didn't feel deprived, she felt richer. And Pierre's words were echoing in her ears, just as Stanley's had, Find a good one when you go back. Easier said than done. But in the absence of a “good one,” she had herself, which was fine for now, and maybe even forever. She wanted to come back to Paris again soon. It had been everything she'd hoped for and more.

She'd only heard from Jeff twice on the trip. Once about a minor electrical problem, and the second time about a replacement refrigerator, when the one they'd ordered didn't come, and wouldn't for several months. His e-mails had been brief. And her office never contacted her at all. It had been a real vacation, and although she was sad to leave, she also felt ready to go back. She wasn't anxious to go back to work. But she couldn't wait to move into her house. Jeff said it was ready, and waiting for her.

She took a flight out of Charles de Gaulle at four o'clock, which got her into San Francisco at six in the evening, local time. It was a beautiful warm April day. It was Friday, and she was moving on Monday, and going back to work on Tuesday. She had the weekend to pack the rest of her things, and even drive some of it over herself. She was thinking of sleeping at her new address that weekend, although the movers were coming Monday, on May 1st, just as Jeff had promised. He had set everything up for her.

She was anxious to see her grandmother to tell her all she'd seen and heard, but Sarah had had an e-mail from her mother, saying that Mimi was still in Palm Springs with George, and she had had a ball in New York with her friends. Her mother had become a wonder of modern communication, and now loved to e-mail. Sarah still thought it was funny. She wondered if her mother had heard from Tom again, or if things had already petered out. Long distance was too tough to really work. Sarah had tried it in college and never liked it. Geographic undesirability had been a turn-off to her ever since.

She took a cab from the airport to her apartment, and as she came through the door, it looked worse than ever. She felt like she no longer even lived there. She couldn't wait to get out. There were boxes everywhere that she'd packed before she left, and the rest of her belongings were in piles all over the floor. Goodwill was scheduled to come on Tuesday to take whatever she didn't move. She wasn't moving much. She was almost embarrassed to give it to Goodwill. She felt as though she had grown up in the last six months, ever since she'd bought the house.

She called her mother that night to say she was back. Her mother sounded rushed, she said she was flying out the door. She was going to Carmel for the weekend. She seemed to be moving around a lot these days, and having fun. Her mother said Mimi was due back on Wednesday. Sarah wanted them all to come to the house for dinner the following weekend. And she had much to tell Mimi, after her visit to Dordogne.

Sarah was surprised not to hear from Jeff that night. He knew when she was coming back, but he was probably busy. She fell asleep early that night, still on Paris time, and woke up at five in the morning, thoroughly jet-lagged. She showered and dressed, made herself a cup of coffee, and headed to the house at six. It was a gorgeous sunny morning.

When she let herself into the house, she felt as though she already lived there. She walked around her domain with pleasure. All the lights worked, the plumbing was fine. The paneling shone. And when she walked in, the new kitchen was gorgeous. It was even more beautiful than she'd hoped for. And she liked the replacement refrigerator even better. She was going to start painting the smaller rooms in the next week, and the professional painters were starting in two weeks to do the big ones. By June the house would be nearly complete. She was going to do the rest of the details slowly, over time, and begin looking for furniture at estate sales and auctions. That would take more time, but her money was holding up nicely, thanks to Jeff's help cutting corners and getting her everything wholesale. She was going to wait to do the elevator for now, because she really didn't need it. He had even given her the gardener he and Marie-Louise used in Potrero Hill. She had gotten everything cleaned up, and had planted neat rows of flowers, and hedges bordering the house.

“Wow!” she said, smiling to herself, as she sat down at her new kitchen table. “Double wow!” She beamed. She loved it.