There was nothing like having supportive parents, but one person’s idea of supportive was another’s of suffocating.
“Huh. That’s not the welcome I was expecting.” Her mother stood at the front door with her arms crossed.
“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t expecting you to drop in.”
“Well, maybe if I’d been invited, I wouldn’t have to drop in.”
Ginny was exhausted. It was Sunday afternoon, and what she wanted to do was close the door and crawl back under the covers, but that plan was scratched.
“Since I’m here, why don’t you give me the tour.”
“Mom. This was one of your summer rental listings. You know this place inside and out.”
“Not since you moved in.” Her mother stood on tiptoe, peering over her shoulder and into the cottage. “It’d be nice to see what you’ve done with the place.” As if that were decided, her mother sailed around her and into the living area. Ginny pushed the door closed.
“Well?”
Her mother glanced around, frowning. “You haven’t done anything with it.”
“Exactly. I’ve been here—what—a handful of days? And I’ve been working nonstop.”
Her mother pursed her lips. “Still. I’d have thought you’d get a throw pillow. Or something.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. It’s not like I’ve been lying on the beach all week.” Which was exactly how she’d hoped to spend her first day off since arriving. Right after the nap her mother had taken her hostage.
But her mother had already moved on to the fridge and was peering at the contents inside. “Honey, there’s nothing in here but wine and cheese. And this.” She pulled out a half-eaten container of hummus and scowled at it. “This expires in a week.”
Ginny plucked it from her hand, closed the fridge, and stood in front of it. “Mom, you stopped packing my lunches twenty years ago. I’m a grown-up.”
Nina raised one plucked eyebrow and shrugged. “Semantics.” Then she showed herself to the couch. “So, what’s new?”
There was no chance Ginny was getting her day back, so she collapsed into the rocking chair. “Well, since you’ve seen I haven’t redecorated the place yet, allow me to break the news that I have also neglected to procure a new fiancé.”
Her mother did not find this funny. “Oh, please.” And then, under her breath, “It’s only been a week.” But her expression grew serious. “I actually came by with some news. We’ve got an opportunity to land a new listing. A big one. It could really help the future of the Feldman Agency, if we get it.”
Ginny thought back to all the properties Sheila had shown her at the office that week. There were plenty, but many of them were summer rentals, like her own cottage, or smaller starter homes without big price tags. As Sheila told it, the competing agencies in town, Sotheby’s International and the Cramer Group, had become better known as the “luxury property” brokerages, scooping up all the high-end listings and courting out-of-town clients and urbanites, leaving Ginny’s parents’ agency the smaller family homes and seasonal lake rentals. It was enough for them to keep their head above water, but if they wanted to survive, they needed to land some of those coveted larger listings. “Where is it?” she asked.
Nina’s face fell. “It’s a sad story, I’m afraid, but business is business. Remember that beautiful estate up on Timber Lane?”
“White Pines?”
Her mother nodded. “The owners died quite suddenly a couple of weeks ago.”
Ginny recalled her mother mentioning something about a recent tragic accident in town, but between her job loss, the breakup, and her move across the country, the details were foggy. “I didn’t realize it was White Pines.” What she didn’t add was “That’s where Wendell used to work.”
“Yes. Apparently, an out-of-town family member has been assigned to manage the property, and she wants to sell. Her lawyer, Geoffrey Banks, reached out to us yesterday. I haven’t dared to tell your father yet; no use getting him all worked up in his present condition. But I had a meeting with Sheila this morning, and we both think we have a good chance. If you take it.”
“Me?” Ginny was both surprised and touched. “But I just got back. Nobody here knows me anymore.”
Nina was already shaking her head. “Honey, you’re young and sharp. And you’re fresh out of the Chicago commercial market. This will be smooth sailing for you. Besides, from what Mr. Banks said, this aunt is all business and straight off a plane from London.” She gestured to herself and smiled sadly. “Just look at me. Between your father’s health and the business struggling, I don’t think I can handle much more. I hardly look the part of luxury real estate tycoon.”
“Mom, stop, you’re doing fine.” True, her mother looked older and more tired than Ginny could recall seeing her. And Ginny was not used to seeing her in leisure attire, like the wide-legged capri pants and shapeless sweatshirt she sported today. But she was still a vital and competent woman who knew the industry in town better than anyone. “Mom, I’ll do whatever you and Dad need me to do. But White Pines is going to be a big fish to land. What do you think it’ll go for?”
Her mother swallowed. “Close to ten.”
“Million.”
“Yes. Million. She wants to subdivide it and has a developer lined up.”
“What a shame,” Ginny thought out loud. “That gorgeous estate chopped up.” When she and Wendell had been together, before he left for the National Guard, Ginny had visited White Pines plenty of times to drop Wendell off or pick him up from work. It was a magical property, complete with all the natural elements: a small private lake, fields and forest. Being up there had always felt like stepping into a different world, and she knew how much Wendell had loved it.
“I hate the thought of it, too,” Nina agreed. “But regardless how we feel, someone is going to get the listing. Why not us? Besides, it could save our agency.”
Ginny sank back into the couch cushions. Working the local residential estate market was a far cry from the commercial work she’d done in the city. Back in Chicago, ten million and above wasn’t out of this world for some of the downtown buildings she’d handled for developers and investors. But here, in a small New England town, it was a high-stakes opportunity. “I’ll do it. We should probably get started today.”
Her mother let out a hoot. “Really? That would be wonderful, honey. Because she’s asked us to come by tomorrow. And we need to present our most polished marketing plan if we’re going to land this.” She lowered her voice. “Apparently, Sotheby’s and Cramer already met with her. But don’t worry! The last interview always stays freshest in the mind.”
Ginny forced a smile. She wanted to do this for her parents because of all they had done for her over the years. And to help them out of the hole their family business was in that they’d been too afraid to tell her about. She had a lot of guilt over that one. Staying so far away for so long, she’d lost touch with the two people who should’ve meant most to her.
But she also felt a flicker of hope in her chest for herself. Her whole life had fallen apart in the last few months, and this was her chance. To distract herself. To brush herself off and get back in the game. Whatever you wanted to call it.
Ginny threw on jeans, swept her hair up in a quick ponytail, and grabbed her laptop. The Feldman Agency was closed on Sundays, outside of appointments to show properties, so no one would be seeing her. On her way over, she began crafting her pitch. All she knew of this out-of-town relative now in charge of White Pines was her name and that she’d flown in from London. As such, Ginny figured it was fair to assume she wouldn’t know Saybrook or the market as well as a local. She’d probably also want to secure a quick sale and wipe her hands of it. The first thing Ginny would do was look up Candace Lancaster and try to put together a profile. The next thing she’d need to do was learn all she could about White Pines. She didn’t have much time.
She’d been at the office for three hours when she couldn’t ignore the growling in her stomach anymore. Nina had been right: she needed more in her fridge. Ginny glanced at the messy desk in front of her. Thanks to what she could glean from Google and town property records, she’d already filled several pages of notes about both the seller and the property. Candace Lancaster was a wealth management consultant for a private outfit in London, and her net worth was nothing to sneeze at. Ginny would have to bring her best game. As far as White Pines went, she had no idea what Candace would be asking, but in the case of Connecticut real estate, the sum of the parts was often more valuable than the whole, and if Candace wanted to subdivide, Ginny would need to see surveys and maps of the proposed division to properly assess the lots and come up with a final figure. There was still much to do, but she was starving.
The Feldman Agency was smack dab in the village center, bookended by the hardware store and the post office and directly across the street from Audrey’s Café. Ginny glanced over there now, longingly. She hadn’t exactly been eating well or taking great care of herself lately; a salad was what she needed, but a sandwich was what she wanted. As she slung her bag over her shoulder, she wondered if they still made that mouthwatering Reuben she and her dad used to split.
The second she walked through the door, Audrey spied her. “Wow! I heard you were coming back, but I didn’t believe it.” Audrey had been Ginny’s childhood friend’s older sister. Alice had moved to New York, but Audrey had stayed on and opened a family business with her husband. Now, she pulled off her apron and hurried around from behind the counter to give her a big hug.
“Back for the summer,” Ginny said, aware that others in line for lunch were watching them curiously. “You look great!” Audrey was only four years older but had been Ginny’s idol when they were growing up. She was the big sister Ginny never had, the one who taught her how to apply mascara, the first one to play spin the bottle, the one whose training bra Alice and Ginny had secretly tried on in a fit of giggles when they snooped in her closet. Now, though she looked no different than Ginny, the chasm between them remained: Audrey was a happily married woman with two kids and a successful business. Who, despite all that, managed to look fit, put together, and happy. “I have to confess, I’m here for the Reuben. Please tell me it’s still on the menu.”
Audrey laughed. “It is, but even if it weren’t, I’d make you one.” She went back around the counter and sent Ginny’s order to the kitchen with a cute teenager in a matching striped apron. “I was so sorry to hear about your dad,” she said quietly.
“Thanks. He’s doing really well, thankfully. But I’m trying to help out with the business.”
“Yeah, three realtors in one small town is tough. But your folks are the best. I’m sure you’ll help them keep it going.”
Ginny smiled tightly. So the word was apparently out that Feldman Agency was struggling. And that she was the one swooping in to help. Hopefully.
She thanked Audrey and stepped aside for the growing line while she waited for her order. She had a few new texts: two from work friends in Chicago, asking how she was settling in. And one from Thomas. Her heart caught in her chest. Despite the fact that she really did not miss Thomas, being alone all of a sudden was hard. A few times since arriving, she’d almost thought of calling him. She opened his message, wondering if he felt the same. “Forgot to ask if you have my stone mortar and pestle? I can’t find it anywhere in the boxes I’ve unpacked.”
Ginny scowled. Leave it to Thomas to inquire about his stupid mortar and pestle. This was something she did not miss about Thomas. His fussiness for routine, from making homemade guacamole every single Friday night after work to taking inventory of his kitchen tools mere days after she’d left. No, she had not lugged that heavy thing all the way home to Connecticut. And she doubted she’d tell him if she had. Clearly, Thomas was doing just fine, mortar aside. She was stuffing her phone back irritably back in her bag when someone called out her order: “Reuben sandwich.”
“Here!” Ginny said, waving her hand. She stepped forward just as a guy behind her did so and said, “That’s me!” at the same time.
Ginny turned at the same moment he did. It was Wendell Combs.
His eyes widened. “Ginny?” He looked as surprised as she felt.
“Wendell. Wow, good to see you.”
The girl at the cash register held the takeout bag between them in confusion. “So, whose sandwich is this?”
Ginny could feel herself flush, and she cursed silently. In a town the size of Saybrook, she should not have been surprised to run into Wendell at some point. But today? She pushed her hair back. And looking like this?
Wendell answered first. “She can have that one. I’ll wait.” Then to her, “I see your taste buds haven’t changed.”
Flustered, Ginny glanced between him and the girl at the register. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you back there. Please, take the sandwich. You were here first.”
“No, no. It’s all yours.” He looked her in the eye for the first time and smiled shyly. “I remember how you get when you’re hungry.”
“Right.” Ginny smiled and thrust a wad of bills at the cashier. “Keep it,” she told the girl when she started to count them out.
“But it’s ten dollars, too much—”
“A tip!” Ginny said, grabbing the sandwich from the counter. She turned back to Wendell. Why was he staring at her like that? She glanced at the line behind her. Why was she blushing? “I should get out of the way.”
“Your sandwich will be another minute,” the girl told Wendell.
Wendell didn’t seem to mind. He turned to Ginny. “Since you stole my sandwich, how about you wait with me a minute?”
“You insisted I take it!” she argued playfully, but she was happy for the excuse to follow him to doorway where it was quieter. Suddenly she wanted very much to catch up with Wendell Combs.
“I didn’t know you were back. Are you visiting your folks?”
Ginny was surprised he hadn’t heard. “My father—he had a heart attack a couple weeks ago. He’s doing fine, but I wanted to come home and help out.” She did not add that she had lost her job and her fiancé. She wondered if Wendell even knew she’d had a fiancé.
“I’m really sorry to hear that, Ginny.” Wendell jammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’ve always liked your father. He’s a good man.”
Ginny got this response every time someone in Saybrook mentioned her dad. She’d forgotten how tight the community was and how much her parents were still a part of it. “He likes you, too,” she said, regretting it the instant the words came out of her mouth. No point dredging up old memories. Especially not in the back of the café during rush hour, with her hair looking like this.
Wendell glanced at the counter, probably wishing his sandwich would appear. She stole a good look at him. There was the familiar line of that strong jaw. The dark hair that made such a contrast against his blue eyes.
“So, what’re you doing these days?” she asked, feeling more in control.
If he’d been surprised to see her before, he looked downright stuck right now. “Well, that’s a good question.” He glanced at his boots, then back up at her. “I’m still up at White Pines, as head caretaker.”
Ginny couldn’t believe it. Her mother had mentioned he’d stayed in town, but Ginny had assumed it was in some sort of professional capacity, like the law school he’d deferred when they were last dating. White Pines had just been a college job. “That’s great.” She heard how hollow the statement sounded.
“Well, it has been. After everything…” He hesitated. “Well, when I came back, it seemed like a good place to start. I guess it never made sense to leave.”
Ginny listened, trying to imagine Wendell working there all these years. It was a far cry from the plans they’d made as college grads. But then Wendell had changed.
“I guess you’ve heard about the accident,” Wendell said. His eyes were deep pools of sadness when he said it.
“Horrible,” she said. “Such a loss to the town, from what my mother said.”
Wendell nodded. “Yeah. Worst of all are the two girls left behind. I’m not sure what’s going to happen to White Pines or them. They’re good kids.” He sounded vested beyond the question of his job.
“I heard there’s a family member taking over. Will you stay on?” She’d thought of Wendell as soon as her mother mentioned White Pines. Now she realized he was likely about to lose his job as well.
“For now,” he said. “The plan is to sell it, eventually.”
Ginny studied his expression. Aside from a few gray hairs and a slight weathering to his handsome face, Wendell looked largely unchanged. The proposal she was working on across the street at her parents’ agency flashed in her mind. Should she mention it?
Just then his order was called. Wendell glanced at the counter, then back at her. He smiled. “I guess that one is mine.”
Ginny smiled back, even though she felt a plume of disappointment rise up. “Better get it. You know how I am when I’m hungry.” She was tempted to say something more.
“Good to see you, Ginny. You look well.”
“You, too.” She watched him stride through the lunch crowd before turning for the door. Seeing him had unsettled her in a way she couldn’t put her finger on, and she felt the urge to leave before Wendell did.