Читать книгу A Tail of Two Cities - Debbie (Mommy) Stump - Страница 7

Chapter 1

Property for Sale

“Custom home, six stall barn, on ten acres.” Gerald read the ad in the Saint Pete Times and turned to my mom. “We need to take a look at that!” As a businessman, always looking for an investment and a way to help his family, my dad thought this could be a good place for Heather to raise her rapidly growing children. Presently in a deed-restricted community with too many dos and don’ts, he felt that wholesome country living would be the best environment for his older granddaughter and their young great-grandchildren.

The appointment was promptly made, and the couple went to view the property. Beautiful white fencing framed the acreage, and the long driveway led up to the two-story Mediterranean-style house. Beyond the backyard was the newer barn structure with open center breezeway, tack rooms, fenced-in dog kennels, and every accoutrement one would need to raise horses. The interior of the house was somewhat sterile but adequate. My parents couldn’t wait to call Heather to come see it and hoped that she was as excited as they were!

A couple of nights later, my husband and I were going about our usual routine at our home in Southwest Pennsylvania, not having a clue as to any of the actions of the family members in Florida. I answered when the phone rang and could tell right away that this was not a friendly “Hi! How are ya?” call!

“Mom! You’ve got to talk to Pop!” A momentary feeling of panic arose.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Pop took us to see this property and wants us to move there! I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but it’s not in a neighborhood like we’re used to, and the house needs so much work! It won’t fit us at all!”

Trying to calm her down by playing the “dumb” card, I continued, “We haven’t heard anything of this, so don’t get so excited. He surely would have mentioned it to your dad.” Although I’m an only child and “daddy’s little girl”, I held no priority when it came to most of his decisions, either business or private. George, on the other hand—being into all divisions of their corporation together, best friends since the day they met, and “the son he never had,” as he was quick to quote—usually knew what he was going to do before it was even a thought. Here the key word is usually! He had received no clues to this latest state of affairs either.

My dad seemed to take a liking to the present owner of the said property, reached an agreement satisfactory to all (meaning himself), and sealed the deal without further ado.

The business that Gerald and George had built was in the gas and oil pipeline construction field. Some winters, location, or non-severity of the weather enabled us to work through these months, but other years, we had the luxury of a slight respite. My dad was relaxing in the Florida sun since he was already semiretired and enjoying their home in Saint Pete with my mom. George and I were storing a forty-five-foot Blue Bird motor home that we were anxious to try out. The work for this year was completed, and anything that required an executive decision could be handled by phone. So we packed up in the fall of 2004 and headed south to console our grief-stricken daughter. She was now the proud owner of ten acres of property and knee-deep in a complete remodel of the accompanying house.

We arrived to find everything in complete disarray—a contractor with a few workers and not much of a master plan. The reason for Heather’s insecurity was the fact that she is a musician-singer, pianist, performer, not a designer or decorator. She had owned a condo and two previous homes, which Mom and “Gran” had arranged in their entirety. This was a massive undertaking for the inexperienced, and she was, to say the least, distraught.

Upon our arrival, Heather proceeded to give us “the grand tour,” and I had to say grand was not the term that came to mind. Our first impression was that the house most closely resembled a prison.

Everything was gray! Walls, floors, bathrooms—gray! Doors had been removed, giving a clear view into the master bath from the family room. Other bedrooms were tiny with the sink and vanity next to the bed. Kitchen cabinets literally fell apart. This was only the beginning! An addition was necessary to accommodate a home office for Heather, extra bedrooms, and other family needs.

One thing that was not a problem was where we would “hang our hats!” With ten lovely flat acres, it was easy to find a spot for the motor home. We were quickly set up at our winter “campsite,” ready to oversee this construction project. Besides fixing up homes for Heather, her sister, and a mother-in-law, George and I had built two homes of our own, helped with new offices, and the construction of my parents’ northern house. We are not the faint of heart and do not shy away from any such project.

After several meetings with the general contractor Jim, things became more organized, and work was underway. The holidays came and went quite joyously with our younger daughter. Holly, visiting from NC, Heather and husband, two young grandchildren, and both of my parents. One big happy family!