Page 57 of The Treasure House

“Treasure houses.” I explained the reels, telling him specifically about HandyMom24 and her farmhouse in Washington. The red door and the paddling pool and the Christmas lights, a life built on a foundation of culch. “I like the ones where people bring the house back to life, not the ones where they remake them into something entirely unrecognizable. For some reason, it makes me sad to see an old house gutted.”

Jake nodded. “Because they lose their identity.”

I blinked. That was exactly it. “Yes. Somehow it erases everything it’s ever been, all the good as well as the bad. Like wiping someone’s memory.”

He gave me an odd look. Then he nodded. “The family wanted to sell to someone who’d love the place for what it was,” he said gruffly. “I guess they knew what they were doing when they let you take it.”

I blinked, surprised by the emotion in his voice.

He glanced at the range. “Best keep the range then, if you want to keep the character of the house.”

“Yeah…” I said slowly, following his gaze. He was right, it was part of the house. Losing it would diminish the charm of the kitchen. Even if I didn’t ever cook on it, I could put some of the pretty teapots on display and a potted plant or two. And then the house would stay whole, and I would still think of Marilla and Green Gables every time I walked into the room.

Jake ran his fingertips over the flowers on the table. “You know what these are?” he said, taking a white petal gently between his fingers.

Startled, I turned back to the table. “Daisies?”

“Oxeye daisies. The town’s named after them.” He gently tugged one from the tangle of the basket and twirled it between his fingers. “They grow all down the coast.” He pointed at the wall. “You ever notice the wallpaper in here?”

Daisies. I had never looked closely at the white floral print, but now it seemed obvious.

The Beatles died abruptly. Then Elvis came on singing “Blue Suede Shoes.”

“Do you know what the purple flowers are, the ones that look like starbursts?” I asked curiously as I bunched the lilacs into a fluted porcelain vase to take upstairs to my room. The rest of the riot of late summer flowers went into a glass vase for the kitchen table.

“Wild bergamot,” he said, taking a long draught of beer. “And the tiny pink ones are swamp milkweed, the fluffy white wands are sweet pepperbush, and the large flat-faced pinky-purple flowers are raspberry. You should find fruit out there soon.”

“Are you an amateur botanist?” I asked, impressed.

“Just a happy gardener.” He slouched back in his chair. “I’m more familiar with vegetables, though.”

I remembered the vegetable beds in the yard behind his store. Not for the first time, I wondered why he was here in Oxeye. “Was your hardware store a family business?” I asked, unable to hide my burning curiosity.

“Nope.” He didn’t elaborate.

“Did you always want to run a hardware store?” I smiled. “And lobster shack.”

“Nope.”

I took the hint. Elvis gave way to Doris Day.

“Flo, you’ll have to listen to more than one song to work out if the record is in mint condition,” I called to her.

“No, I won’t! Jake showed me how to examine them for scratches. I’m just playing these because I want to know what they sound like.” The first verse of “Tea for Two” chirped at full volume from the porch.

“She’s got a lot of energy for a kid who doesn’t eat sugary cereal,” Jake said.

I laughed.

“Her dad’s getting married, huh?”

I darted a glance at him, but his expression was deliberately bland. “Yes,” I said simply. I felt nothing about Tim getting married.

Okay, that was a lie. I felt a wild stinging sense of rejection that Tim was getting married, and not to me—even though I didn’t want him anymore. Tim and I were woefully incompatible. I have unrelenting abandonment issues, and he abandons people.

He’d left me with a baby and moved into student housing with a bunch of other thoughtless, selfish man-babies, playing beer pong and sleeping in and gaming and fucking around, while I was changing diapers and reading to her and not sleeping and worrying about bills.

Jake also took a hint and fell silent.