Each tiny house was obviously big enough for an adult to live in, yet so small it couldn’t be more than 300 or 400 square feet. The miniature houses made Alice think of her namesake from Wonderland and the bottle that said “drink me.” It was as if a village of pretty houses had all drunk a shrinking potion.
The variety of architectural styles was staggering. Victorian, Edwardian, Neoclassical. There was a miniature log cabin. One with a straw roof. Another looking like modern Scandinavian architecture with large windows and unpainted pine wood.
As Alice followed the sound of the thwack, thwack, thwack, she admired the handiwork, smiling at the painstaking detail the builder had put into making these homes.
In the middle of the village, Alice came to a clearing, and there stood Ona, holding a long plank across two sawhorses as she hammered a chisel into the wood.
She stopped and looked up. She lifted a pair of work goggles to her forehead, uncovering her naked eye and her glittering eyepatch.
She smiled. “Why so surprised—you don’t have a hobby?”
Alice laughed and held up the book. “My hobby is more modest. I read books.”
“You enter fantasy worlds,” Ona said. “I create fantasy homes.”
“You can say that again.”
Alice caught sight of a nearby house that was all rounded edges and circles, like a giant barrel on its side. The door was round, and bore a striking resemblance to Bilbo Baggins’s home in The Hobbit.
“I’ve read about tiny houses but never actually seen them in person. Can you live in these?”
“Of course you can,” Ona said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Ona put down her hammer, took the goggles off entirely, and led Alice into the nearest tiny house.
“This is my showroom,” Ona said.
From the outside, the tiny house had looked—well, tiny. But once Alice stepped inside, she was amazed by how spacious it felt. A full kitchen dominated the left side. There was an L-shaped hardwood counter top, modern appliances, including a full-sized fridge and freezer unit. A small table sat in the middle with two chairs tucked under it.
On the other side was the living room space. Admittedly, compared with a normal living room this was tiny, with a love seat and an arm chair jostling for space with a wood-burning stove. But instead of feeling cramped, it felt cozy.
Ona opened a small door. “There’s a small patio out here. And let me show you the bedroom.”
She opened a door off the kitchen. A queen-sized bed fit snugly into a room with art prints on the walls and ledges holding scented candles and wooden figurines.
“Cute,” Alice said, and meant it.
“And this door leads to the bathroom.”
“Wow, there’s even a washer-dryer. How big is this place?”
Ona laughed. “That’s what people always ask at this point. Impressive how many amenities you can pack into 425 square feet, huh?”
Alice walked through the small space again, admiring the way everything fit. “I’ve seen houses three times this size that feel less convenient. You built this yourself? That’s impressive.”
Ona tipped her head, acknowledging the compliment.
“So what’s the catch?” she asked.
Ona smiled. “Spoken like a true cynic. But you’re right, there is a catch. Tiny houses are still a newfangled thing, and not every town zoning board is eager to change the rules to allow such small houses to be built, let alone lived in.”
She explained how building codes often mandated that homes be a certain size for safety reasons. “But those regulations were created when all houses were over 500 square feet. With tiny houses, we’ve all got to change how we view the idea of living space. Or office space, since businesses can use the houses, too. Sometimes it means making more use of the outdoors—and isn’t that a wonderful idea when you live surrounded by woods?” She sighed. “That’s my pitch, anyway. People love the idea. They love my houses. But every time someone plans to buy a tiny house and put it on a property in Blithedale, the authorities stop them.”
“Chief Jimbo?”
“Jimbo doesn’t care. It’s Mayor MacDonald who isn’t a fan, and in the end, he has to change the development code to allow tiny houses to be used as homes or businesses. Let’s just say that the town’s top realtor isn’t thrilled about a movement that encourages fewer square meters and lower costs. Outside of the town center, the code is more flexible. So my customers are people who live in the woods. But that’s not a big customer base. As you can see,” she said, as she led Alice back out into the village of tiny houses, “I can build more than I can sell.”
“They’re amazing,” Alice said, impressed. “I wish I could live in one of your tiny houses. And some of these are so magical, I can imagine a store or other business inside too.”
Ona looked at Alice, then checked her watch. “You busy? No? Good. I’ve got something I want to show you.”
She led Alice back through the inn. At the reception, she wiped off the chalkboard and wrote “Need help? Call me,” putting a number below it.
Outside, Ona gestured for Alice to get into a pickup truck.
When they’d settled into their seat and Ona turned on the engine, she gave Alice a big grin. “Prepare to be amazed.”