Read A House by the Side of the Road for Free Online Page B

the first floor and looked at the items that had allowed the house to be rented as “furnished.”
    â€œNot exactly a treasure trove, is it?” said Meg. “Everything’s so beat up.”
    â€œExcept the floors. The carpet did a good job of protecting the floors; they’re beautiful.”
    They were. They glowed softly, in contrast to the abused furniture.
    â€œI’ll keep the couch,” said Meg, indicating a pleasant old sofa in the living room, “and the dresser in the front bedroom, and the dining room table and chairs. They’re beat up, but sturdy. The rest’ll go to the Salvation Army tomorrow. Unless you want any of it?”
    Christine shook her head. “Too many years of tenants who didn’t care what they spilled. Anyway, we’ve got too much stuff already. Let’s have lunch.”
    The two women sat on the kitchen stoop and ate ham sandwiches. “So that’s Aunt Louise’s house,” said Meg. “Doesn’t tell me much about her. I didn’t know her very well and hoped it would.”
    â€œIt doesn’t tell you much because her books are gone. She had more than four thousand books. She took every last one to the nursing home, which now has a substantial library.” Christine grinned. “If she had A Beginner’s Guide to Home Repair, she shoulda left it for the tenants.”
    â€œWe wrote letters, that was all,” said Meg. “And not often. My mother was scared of her, I think.”
    â€œDon’t conclude your mother was unjustified. The lady wasn’t exactly affable. I admired her ‘If you don’t like it, screw you’ attitude, but that’s because I intend to adopt the same one the day I reach sixty-five.”
    She leaned against the wall of the house, stretched out her legs, and pointed to a toolshed beyond which the driveway began its curve to the back. “You could take one of the dressers you don’t want and put it in there to hold nails and screwdrivers and sandpaper. You’re going to be needing nails and screwdrivers and sandpaper. And pliers and saws and a really, really big garbage can.”
    â€œI know.” Meg sighed happily. “But that big old claw-footed tub must be seven feet long, and the shrub outside the front bedroom is honeysuckle. The smelly kind, I hope.”
    â€œIf it’s not, you can plant one. And you’ll have roses. But the tulips must be surviving on a pension—and none of the tenants planted anything. If you want to see a gorgeous yard, go look at Mike Mulcahy’s garden on the other side of us. Not much to see yet, but it’s something.”
    â€œMichael Mulcahy’s place?” asked Meg. “How can a lawyer have enough time to keep a fabulous garden? And why does he have a swing? This sandwich is good. ”
    Christine pushed the basket closer to Meg. “Have another. He didn’t plant the garden. He inherited the place, complete with swing, from Mrs. Ehrlich last fall. I guess this is the year for inheriting property. He gets his aunt’s house; you get your great-aunt’s. I don’t know if he’ll have a clue how to take care of the garden, but I hope he figures it out. She worked like crazy on it. Lots of old flowers you hardly ever see, with names like Kiss Me over the Garden Gate.”
    â€œIt sounds wonderful,” said Meg, unwrapping a second sandwich.
    â€œIt is. But, like I said, at least you’ll have roses.” Christine poured more coffee into Meg’s empty mug. “There’s a white climber that grows right up the side of the porch. You need some of those big, comfy metal lawn chairs to put out there, the ones that give a little when you lean back, you know, so you can just sit on the porch until incipient starvation forces you into action.”
    â€œOr, sporadically, when I decide to try to make a living.”
    Christine sighed. “Yeah, there’s