Family by Design. Bonnie Winn K.

Hill House has been a worry. I don’t want it rented by some cheesy tourist outfit or chain restaurant. And if the building sits empty too long, it won’t be good for the town.”

      Overwhelmed, Maddie stared at him. “Just like that? Up and move? Start a business with no money?”

      “Just like that,” he replied calmly. “What are your concerns?”

      “Endless. My mother—”

      “Would benefit from more interaction with people. That’s a medical opinion.”

      She waved her hands in the air. “Fixing up the apartments.”

      “I have friends in the contracting business. Next.”

      “Renting out our house.”

      “I have a friend in real estate.”

      She plopped her hands on both hips. “Don’t tell me, you have a friend in tearooms, as well?”

      His eyes softened a fraction. “I hope so.”

      Her heart did a little two-step that dried her throat. “It’s so much to take in.”

      “It’s trite, but every journey begins with a step. Think Sam might stand in for you while we take a look at the apartments?”

      “I suppose, but—”

      “Good. How about tomorrow morning?”

      “Tomorrow?” she couldn’t keep the shock from her voice.

      The smile she remembered was back on his face. “Unless you want to see them tonight?”

      By morning, Maddie decided she was out of her mind. A sleepless night only confirmed the diagnosis. Now, a few hours later, Sam was perched on one of the kitchen chairs while Maddie turned on the electric kettle.

      “I think it’s a great idea!” Sam nibbled on a cookie. “I hope you plan to stock these. I could eat a dozen by myself.”

      Maddie rubbed her forehead, wondering why she’d given in to J.C.’s suggestion to phone Sam and set up the late-morning meeting. “You’ve just put at least a dozen carts before the horse. The more I think about J.C.’s idea—”

      “Then stop thinking. Maddie, he’s right. It’s a good solution for all of you. J.C. needs help. Chrissy needs some stability in her life. Your mother will blossom—you know how she loves company. And you …”

      “Can’t finish that one, can you?”

      “Actually I can, but you’re too prickly right now to lis ten.”

      “Prickly?”

      “You’re not a martyr. I know that. But you’re refusing to think beyond today. You’re cutting corners now. How many are left? Do you see the cost of living shrinking in the next decade? And even though we don’t want to think about it, Lillian’s medical expenses could rise significantly. A business could give you the means to make sure you can take care of her. And, stubborn friend, what’s wrong with you having some happiness? Pursuing your dream?”

      Maddie swallowed. She’d purposely pushed their financial future to the corners of her thoughts, hoping that somehow it would work out. “And if the business is a big flop?”

      Sam shook her head gently. “I doubt that’s possible. But if it did, we’d be here for you—your friends, your neighbors.”

      Sighing Maddie plunked down into a chair across from her friend. “This is all going too fast. I barely know J.C.”

      “That could change,” Sam suggested hopefully.

      Maddie swallowed. That was about the scariest part of the whole venture.

      J.C. was highly aware of Maddie’s reluctance. He’d all but dragged her from her house. Feeling like a used car salesman, he’d talked up the place during the short drive to Main Street. Now, he inserted the key in the lock. Unused since Jay’s death, the building seemed to echo with the loss. Jay’s employees had scattered. Some were old enough to retire, the rest had found other jobs when the company closed. Without Jay’s networking, the place would have crawled to a halt, so J.C. had chosen the only practical option.

      Still, their footsteps rang in the emptiness.

      “What happened to the equipment?” Maddie whispered.

      “Sold it.” His voice seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet. Finding a multiple light switch, he flipped all the levers. Fluorescent lights glared overhead. Seeing Maddie wince, he turned all but one off. “You’d have to imagine it without the commercial additions.” He pointed toward the walls on the east side. “The original moldings are still in place. Jay updated the lighting and wiring for his business. But Wagner Hill House was built in the 1890s.”

      Maddie glanced around uncertainly. “The wood floors are still good.” She stared upward at the ugly drop ceiling.

      “The original’s still under those panels. Be easy to restore. Of course you have to look past the dust.”

      Just then she sneezed.

      “Way under the dust.”

      “Seems more suited to a different sort of business.” She halted in front of a stack of boxes taller than she was. “Not really a tea shop sort of place.”

      J.C. pointed to the original bay window that faced Main Street. “Picture it without the signs and printing displays. You could put up some kind of curtains, I imagine.”

      “Hmm.” Maddie studied the large window. “European,” she murmured. “That’s the feel I always wanted. Plastered walls.”

      Helpfully, he gestured toward the original plastered walls. “They’re still in good shape.”

      “Maybe …”

      “Plumbing’s good. You can reconfigure it however you want.”

      Maddie frowned. “Sounds expensive.”

      “That’s where your silent partner comes in.”

      “I’d never be able to pay you back!”

      “Look at it this way, Maddie. No matter who I rent to, I’m looking at renovations.”

      She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you sure?”

      “Yep. And the improvements are a write-off. Just clearing the rest of the junk out of here will make a big difference. You’ll see.”

      Pivoting, she studied the space. “It would, actually.”

      “Let’s take a look at the apartments. The elevator’s in the back and there are two sets of stairs, one up front and one in the rear.”

      Reaching the front stairway, Maddie smoothed her hand over the curved bannister. “Lovely woodwork. Don’t see this in modern buildings.”