Read Online Bitter Harvest by Sheila Connolly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sheila Connolly
Ads: Link
may be bats. And other things I’d rather not think about. Giant spiders. Rats. Besides, it’ll be freezing cold up there, won’t it?”
“If I recall, it’s not insulated, so, yes. There should be enough to keep us busy in the rest of the house, anyway. We can do some triage while we’re at it—you know, figure out what repairs need to be done, make a priority list, that kind of thing.”
Meg grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to know. I probably won’t catch up in my lifetime.”
“One step at a time. You ready?”
Meg braced herself and headed out into the freezing hallway and up the stairs. “We might as well look at the two rooms on the east side first—since I’m not using them, I haven’t done much in there.”
“Makes sense. Uh, if we’re supposed to be cleaning, shouldn’t you take something along to do it with?”
“Oh. I guess I’m trying to avoid that. Dust cloths?”
“It’s a start.”
“Your mother trained you well.”
It was, in fact, an interesting process, cleaning out a longneglected room, and Meg found it did keep her warm. She kept a pad of paper in her pocket, making notes of which furniture she wanted to get rid of—heck, some of it was little better than firewood—and what she thought she should acquire, if she ever found the time and money. She resolutely ignored the growing length of that list. Since the house had been built in the later eighteenth century, there were few closets, and those that existed were sadly inadequate for modern storage. Nineteenth-century renovations hadn’t improved things much. The basic problem was, there were no places to even think of putting closets.
“You could build out a false wall,” Seth suggested, “and fit closets in that way.”
“Maybe,” Meg said dubiously. “But that would make the rooms too small, and we’re limited by the placement of the windows. Maybe in this room?” They were standing in the back bedroom, which was depressingly gloomy because of the storm, not to mention cold and none too clean. “At least all those tenants didn’t feel compelled to change things. I would hate to have to peel off a lot of cheap wallpaper and vinyl floor tiles.”
“Amen!” Seth said. “I see plenty of that, and it’s a lot of work just to get rid of it so you can start fresh. Getting old glue and paste off is not fun. You’re lucky.”
“I deserve a little luck here somewhere, don’t you think?” She surveyed the rather bare room. “Are we done in here?”
“I think so. How about the front bedroom?”
“Mother used that when she stayed here, so I spiffed it up a bit, at least on the surface. She didn’t complain about the bed, so I guess it’s all right. I wonder what happened to the rest of the sisters’ furniture? You’d think they would have held on to something from the family.”
“Who knows? Maybe the family divided everything up—you know, if the sisters got the house, the rest of them shared the contents? Or something like that.” They moved into the front bedroom.
“The two front rooms have closets, if you can call them that—they weren’t intended for modern clothes,” Meg said.
Seth pulled open the closet door and contemplated the empty space. A few wire hangers dangled from a modern plastic rod stretched across the closet. “Hey, at least there’s something. It looks original to the house.”
“I’m guessing this was the master bedroom, or whatever they called it back in 1760. Although you once said you thought the nursery was next to the room I’m using. Maybe they reserved this for important guests. Do you think George Washington ever slept here?”
“Unlikely, but imagine all you want. Did your mother use the closet?”
“Probably. She’s tidy that way, likes to hang up her clothes.” Meg joined him at the closet. “Although I’ll bet she brought her own hangers.”
“There’s something on the shelf. Maybe she left something behind?”
“She didn’t mention that
“If I recall, it’s not insulated, so, yes. There should be enough to keep us busy in the rest of the house, anyway. We can do some triage while we’re at it—you know, figure out what repairs need to be done, make a priority list, that kind of thing.”
Meg grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to know. I probably won’t catch up in my lifetime.”
“One step at a time. You ready?”
Meg braced herself and headed out into the freezing hallway and up the stairs. “We might as well look at the two rooms on the east side first—since I’m not using them, I haven’t done much in there.”
“Makes sense. Uh, if we’re supposed to be cleaning, shouldn’t you take something along to do it with?”
“Oh. I guess I’m trying to avoid that. Dust cloths?”
“It’s a start.”
“Your mother trained you well.”
It was, in fact, an interesting process, cleaning out a longneglected room, and Meg found it did keep her warm. She kept a pad of paper in her pocket, making notes of which furniture she wanted to get rid of—heck, some of it was little better than firewood—and what she thought she should acquire, if she ever found the time and money. She resolutely ignored the growing length of that list. Since the house had been built in the later eighteenth century, there were few closets, and those that existed were sadly inadequate for modern storage. Nineteenth-century renovations hadn’t improved things much. The basic problem was, there were no places to even think of putting closets.
“You could build out a false wall,” Seth suggested, “and fit closets in that way.”
“Maybe,” Meg said dubiously. “But that would make the rooms too small, and we’re limited by the placement of the windows. Maybe in this room?” They were standing in the back bedroom, which was depressingly gloomy because of the storm, not to mention cold and none too clean. “At least all those tenants didn’t feel compelled to change things. I would hate to have to peel off a lot of cheap wallpaper and vinyl floor tiles.”
“Amen!” Seth said. “I see plenty of that, and it’s a lot of work just to get rid of it so you can start fresh. Getting old glue and paste off is not fun. You’re lucky.”
“I deserve a little luck here somewhere, don’t you think?” She surveyed the rather bare room. “Are we done in here?”
“I think so. How about the front bedroom?”
“Mother used that when she stayed here, so I spiffed it up a bit, at least on the surface. She didn’t complain about the bed, so I guess it’s all right. I wonder what happened to the rest of the sisters’ furniture? You’d think they would have held on to something from the family.”
“Who knows? Maybe the family divided everything up—you know, if the sisters got the house, the rest of them shared the contents? Or something like that.” They moved into the front bedroom.
“The two front rooms have closets, if you can call them that—they weren’t intended for modern clothes,” Meg said.
Seth pulled open the closet door and contemplated the empty space. A few wire hangers dangled from a modern plastic rod stretched across the closet. “Hey, at least there’s something. It looks original to the house.”
“I’m guessing this was the master bedroom, or whatever they called it back in 1760. Although you once said you thought the nursery was next to the room I’m using. Maybe they reserved this for important guests. Do you think George Washington ever slept here?”
“Unlikely, but imagine all you want. Did your mother use the closet?”
“Probably. She’s tidy that way, likes to hang up her clothes.” Meg joined him at the closet. “Although I’ll bet she brought her own hangers.”
“There’s something on the shelf. Maybe she left something behind?”
“She didn’t mention that
Similar Books
