Chapter 3
As Caroline reached for the doorknob, she realized they had been so distracted by Randy’s enthusiastic greeting they never looked around at the outside of the house. Oh well, she thought they could always do that on the way out. Her hand hovered in mid-air as she took a minute to steady her breathing; this was the moment she had been waiting for.
“What’s wrong?” asked Travis impatiently. “Don’t tell me the door’s stuck.”
Caroline sighed and rolled her eyes. She could hear the disdain in his voice and had to force herself not to turn around and stick her tongue out at him as she pushed open the door. As she stepped inside, all thoughts of her husband and his whiny attitude fled as she surveyed the room before her.
The first thing she noticed was the old brass chandelier hanging from the raised ceiling. It was dirty, covered in spiderwebs, and looked like a relic from the seventies, but with a bit of elbow grease, it would be good as new. Next were the hardwood floors. Made of oak and likely as old as the house, they were in rough condition, but nothing a good sanding and coat of varnish couldn’t fix. The one thing that did concern her was the crumbling plaster walls. Those would need to go with drywall put in their place.
“This place is a dump,” Travis complained. “I’ve seen enough, how about you?” he asked her.
Caroline turned to face him, anger flashing across her face. “You promised to give this place a chance,” she reminded him. “We’ve barely walked through the door, and you’re already ready to go? That doesn’t sound like giving it a chance.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down, the temperature in the room dropping a noticeable ten degrees.
“Babe, come on,” he pleaded. “I know you’re desperate to get out of the camper, but we can’t buy a house just because it’s cheap.”
“Oh?” she shot back. “But you can decide not to buy one based on just one room?”
“Ahem,” Randy cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt,” he said. “But I agree with Caroline. This place has great bones, Travis. Sure, it needs work, but nothing a little elbow grease won’t fix.”
Caroline glanced at Randy, amused to hear him echo her earlier sentiments. Having him on her side was definitely a bonus. There was no way Travis would turn her down now.
“Thank you, Randy,” Caroline smiled sweetly at the man. “Shall we continue on?” she asked her husband, her smile fading when she looked at him.
Sensing he’d been beaten, Travis shrugged. “Fine, but from what I’ve seen, this is a colossal waste of time.”
“Duly noted,” she waved him off as she led the way into what appeared to be the dining room.
Hideous burnt orange carpet covered the floor, brown floral wallpaper covered the walls, and there was evidence of a rodent infestation everywhere she looked. However, there was original wainscoting still intact, gorgeous crown molding, and an elaborately carved serving station built in between the dining room and what was likely the pantry. The walls and ceiling seemed to be intact, though they would have to remove the wallpaper to know for sure, and the same hardwood floors from the foyer were likely under the carpet.
Without comment, she continued into the living room, where more burnt orange carpet awaited her. A quick look showed red-papered walls with little blue flowers, a bay window, and enormous pocket doors. Yes, it needed a good cleaning, and yes, it desperately needed a makeover, but as she closed her eyes, visions of the past danced before her. It was beautiful once, and it could be again.
“This house needs to be burnt to the ground,” Travis snarked.
“What it needs is someone to bring it back to life,” Caroline shot back. “Give me one good reason why that person can’t be me?”
“Just one?” he asked. “How about you’ve never done a single remodel job in your life.”
“So,” she said. “How hard can it be to tear out carpet and paint a few walls?”
“A few walls?” he replied exasperated. “How about every wall. Not to mention all the walls that need to be torn down and replaced. Are you going to do that as well? Because I sure as heck don’t have time to do it.”
“But—”
“And don’t get me started on all the plumbing and electrical work this place needs,” he interrupted. “I doubt it’s seen an update since the seventies where all this carpet and wallpaper appears to be from. If then, and that’s a big if.”
“I could try to find that out for you,” Randy said helpfully.
Travis ran his hand down his face. “You know what? Don’t bother. I’m sorry we wasted your time, Randy, but this place is not for us.” He grabbed Caroline’s hand and tried to pull her toward the door.
“NO!” she screamed, stopping him in his tracks. “This place is my home, and I’m not leaving until you agree it’s your home, too,” she stepped toward Travis and looked him dead in the eye. “And if you refuse, it will be my home without you.”
“You don’t mean that,” he whispered.
“Yes, I do.”
Randy laughed nervously as he stepped between them. “Guys, how about we take a break and grab a bite to eat over at the burger joint?” he looped one arm through Travis’s and the other through Caroline’s and dragged them toward the door.
“But we haven’t finished the tour,” Caroline protested.
“We can come back,” Randy assured her.
She wasn’t happy about leaving but seemed to have no choice, so she went willingly. Once they were back outside, she took the opportunity to look around while Randy locked up.
The house was an ugly gray color, the trim around the windows peeling and faded. Large oak trees towered over two sides, shading it from the sun’s harsh rays. A brick pathway led around to the side of the house, where she assumed a garden, deck, or patio resided. The house would look grand if she were to plant some flowers and maybe a few shrubs for added curb appeal.
A glance at Travis showed he did not feel the same, but whatever. The house was so big they could practically fit the camper in the dining room alone. Even if it costs fifty grand to make the needed repairs, the house would still cost less than half the cheapest house in town. That had to count for something. Right?