Read Online The Long Road Home by Mary Alice Monroe - Free Book Online Page A

The sweet day songs had ceased; only the nighthawk, with its long pointed wings, kept up its nasal peent, peent. From the north, a wind was picking up andcarrying off the first of an army of leaves. In the air, Nora could taste sweet rain.
    She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. She should go in, but the cloud mist on her face refreshed her. So she stood out on the deck awhile longer to stare out at the mountains, dark purple now under lowering clouds. The clouds would soon swallow the house. Thunder rumbled in the valley.
    “I’m safe now,” she called back to the nighthawk. “I’m already home.”
    Speak them she might, she didn’t feel the words in the red hush of dusk. As she stood alone in her large, unfinished, mountain home, she thought if this were a nest, she’d be wildly searching for twigs, twine, and mud to patch together a safe haven against the incoming storm. But she was a woman, with neither the practical skills nor the money needed to finish the endless projects she’d discovered today.
    She had forgotten how much remained to be done. Miles and years had fogged her memory in a romantic vision of country life, leaving unremembered unpleasant details such as unfinished floors and ceilings. Memory was selective, she realized.
    Esther, however, had reminded her all too clearly in her forthright manner earlier that afternoon.
    They’d been walking up the short flight of stairs to the great room. On this first day, Nora had made overtures to a possible new ally. A friend, a woman friend, would be welcome. So she sought out Esther’s opinions on what she’d do in the house, even though she already had her own plan firmly set in her organized mind.
    Esther was not easy to approach. She was definite about her opinions and did not couch them with “I think” or with questions. She could be intimidating.
    “I don’t know what you’re going to do all by yourself in this big house,” Esther said bluntly.
    “There’ll be no shortage of projects to keep me busy. Besides, I’m used to living alone.”
    Esther raised her brows. “Well, it’s going to be pretty lonely up here when you get snowed in. All those windows will make it cold too.”
    “I suppose,” Nora replied, scanning the high ceilings and huge plates of glass that surrounded the great room. She’d look into sewing some insulated shades right away.
    “All these cement floors,” Esther said in the lower levels, “get icy, and there’s nothing you can do to warm them up till summer—and that don’t come till July.”
    Nora’s gaze swept the pitted gray cement floors of the lower floor. This part of the house was low on her priority list of improvements.
    “I’ll have to get wood floors put in, someday.” In the meantime, she thought to herself, a row of carpet samples might do.
    “You’ll probably want the upstairs john done too, I suspect.”
    “Not this year.”
    “That means you’ll have to run down three flights of stairs just to pee? Long trip in the middle of the night.” Esther laughed, but at the sight of Nora’s face, she cut it short.
    It went on like that as they toured the house, and Nora’s to-do list grew. Esther also pointed out all the fine features of the house, like the redwood beam and deck, the slate roof, the rosy brick, and more copper piping than anyone else in town could dream of putting in.
    “Not another house like it in the county,” Esther reported.
    Nora would have traded grandeur for economy. All shesaw was miles of unfinished floor and ceilings, rafters covered with thick sheets of clear plastic, and trapped under them, the carcasses of hordes of flies, ants, and wasps. There were no doors to the bedrooms, or closets for that matter, and all the walls, from the basement to the top-floor bedroom, were only roughed in. Electrical outlets hung from walls or frames where walls were supposed to be.
    Nora’s critical eye took in and calculated what it would cost to complete the five-level