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Authors: Debbie Macomber
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like it was going to be one of those special Seattle summers with mild temperatures and lots of sunshine.
Rover and I met Dana at the front door. I led the way onto the veranda, where Emily waited at the table I’d prepared. Because I was fortunate to see the water and the mountains every day, I chose to sit with my back to the cove. This gave my guests the opportunity to enjoy the view, which was spectacular this afternoon. The Olympic Mountains stood guard over the horizon, their sharp, majestic white-capped peaks gleaming against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. I never grew tired of studying this glorious panorama.
“Jo Marie said you might have some information about the owner of the house on Bethel,” Emily said, getting straight to the point. I knew she was anxious to learn what she could about the property.
I poured us each a glass of lemonade and set out plates so we could help ourselves to the cookies. Macadamia with white chocolate chips today, which was one of my personal favorites. Since Mark had left, I hadn’t baked his favorite peanut-butter cookies. I couldn’t look at those cookies and not think of all the times the two of us had sat on this very porch to chat about our day. Those were my favorite memories of Mark, sitting together, facing this view while sharing our thoughts and munching on my homemade cookies.
I missed those lazy evenings, and the longing to have him sit with me again clawed at my heart. The not knowing was the worst. I hadn’t heard back from Lieutenant Colonel Milford. When I did, I held little hope of getting any helpful information. Still, I clung to whatever he might tell me that would help ease my mind.
“I stopped by the house several times and got no answer.”
“He was there,” Emily announced crisply, and then explained how she knew.
Dana nodded. “I gathered as much. He must have gotten tired of me stopping by because he finally answered. I gave him my card and he practically threw me off the porch.”
Emily and I exchanged looks.
“Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat,” Dana said, “pardon the expression. It’s one my grandmother often used. So I did a bit of investigating. Mrs. Usinger has lived across the street from the house for the last forty years. She’s one of those women who likes to keep tabs on the neighborhood.”
I knew the type. “Did she know the owner?”
“Not really. Apparently, he keeps to himself and hasn’t welcomed any overtures of friendship, but she was well acquainted with the previous owner.”
“Great.” Emily leaned forward, anxious to learn what she could.
“It seems Lillian Schwartz was one of her best friends,” Dana continued. “They were both widows and looked after each other. Mrs. Usinger is still able to drive, and she drove Lillian to church every Sunday and Bible study on Wednesdays.”
“It sounds like they were well acquainted.”
Dana agreed. “Lillian passed about a year ago. Toward the end, she rarely left the house for anything more than doctor appointments and such.” She looked to Emily.
“Who inherited the house?” Emily asked eagerly, and not waiting for an answer, quickly followed with a second question. “Did Mrs. Usinger give you any indication if the new owner would be willing to sell?”
Dana looked to me and then back to Emily. “Mrs. Usinger said Lillian willed the house to her grandson, Nick Schwartz. He’s been there for the last several months but has kept mostly to himself. Mrs. Usinger has no idea what he intends to do with the house.”
Emily’s shoulders sagged. “I was afraid of that.”
I felt the need to explain to Dana. “Emily had a run-in with Nick this morning.”
Dana nodded. “So you said.”
Emily snapped a cookie in half with unnecessary force. “He kicked me off his property.”
Dana’s eyes widened. “He wasn’t overly friendly to me, either, but he didn’t go that far. What happened?”
“I’ve been running through the
Rover and I met Dana at the front door. I led the way onto the veranda, where Emily waited at the table I’d prepared. Because I was fortunate to see the water and the mountains every day, I chose to sit with my back to the cove. This gave my guests the opportunity to enjoy the view, which was spectacular this afternoon. The Olympic Mountains stood guard over the horizon, their sharp, majestic white-capped peaks gleaming against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. I never grew tired of studying this glorious panorama.
“Jo Marie said you might have some information about the owner of the house on Bethel,” Emily said, getting straight to the point. I knew she was anxious to learn what she could about the property.
I poured us each a glass of lemonade and set out plates so we could help ourselves to the cookies. Macadamia with white chocolate chips today, which was one of my personal favorites. Since Mark had left, I hadn’t baked his favorite peanut-butter cookies. I couldn’t look at those cookies and not think of all the times the two of us had sat on this very porch to chat about our day. Those were my favorite memories of Mark, sitting together, facing this view while sharing our thoughts and munching on my homemade cookies.
I missed those lazy evenings, and the longing to have him sit with me again clawed at my heart. The not knowing was the worst. I hadn’t heard back from Lieutenant Colonel Milford. When I did, I held little hope of getting any helpful information. Still, I clung to whatever he might tell me that would help ease my mind.
“I stopped by the house several times and got no answer.”
“He was there,” Emily announced crisply, and then explained how she knew.
Dana nodded. “I gathered as much. He must have gotten tired of me stopping by because he finally answered. I gave him my card and he practically threw me off the porch.”
Emily and I exchanged looks.
“Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat,” Dana said, “pardon the expression. It’s one my grandmother often used. So I did a bit of investigating. Mrs. Usinger has lived across the street from the house for the last forty years. She’s one of those women who likes to keep tabs on the neighborhood.”
I knew the type. “Did she know the owner?”
“Not really. Apparently, he keeps to himself and hasn’t welcomed any overtures of friendship, but she was well acquainted with the previous owner.”
“Great.” Emily leaned forward, anxious to learn what she could.
“It seems Lillian Schwartz was one of her best friends,” Dana continued. “They were both widows and looked after each other. Mrs. Usinger is still able to drive, and she drove Lillian to church every Sunday and Bible study on Wednesdays.”
“It sounds like they were well acquainted.”
Dana agreed. “Lillian passed about a year ago. Toward the end, she rarely left the house for anything more than doctor appointments and such.” She looked to Emily.
“Who inherited the house?” Emily asked eagerly, and not waiting for an answer, quickly followed with a second question. “Did Mrs. Usinger give you any indication if the new owner would be willing to sell?”
Dana looked to me and then back to Emily. “Mrs. Usinger said Lillian willed the house to her grandson, Nick Schwartz. He’s been there for the last several months but has kept mostly to himself. Mrs. Usinger has no idea what he intends to do with the house.”
Emily’s shoulders sagged. “I was afraid of that.”
I felt the need to explain to Dana. “Emily had a run-in with Nick this morning.”
Dana nodded. “So you said.”
Emily snapped a cookie in half with unnecessary force. “He kicked me off his property.”
Dana’s eyes widened. “He wasn’t overly friendly to me, either, but he didn’t go that far. What happened?”
“I’ve been running through the
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