Kathleen Pickering - A Man to Believe In

Passing the dining room, Cassie pointed to the antique dining table and chairs. “Are those staying?”

Brian nodded. “Sure. Those were in the house, and I don’t have a place for a dining set. I got rid of the old stuff, but I’m glad I left the couch and rug. Peter might need something to sleep on.”

“That will definitely work until I get a bed.”

The kitchen windows looked like they still had the original glass. Outside, the backyard ran a good distance to the woods. Excellent privacy.

“What a great old pantry!” Cassie opened the door. “Look, a window inside and everything. I love old architecture!”

Peter smiled at her. “Me, too. This is a cool house.”

“Let me show you the rest of the place,” Brian said. “Bedrooms and bath are this way.”

The first bedroom was small, and would make a good office or guest room. Brian had renovated the bath. The small, black-and-white floor tiles and stand-alone tub reflected the era of the house. The walls were brilliant white, and a huge mirror hung over a retro counter and sink, brightening the room. A glassed-in shower had been built into what used to be a linen closet.

Brian opened the adjoining door. “And this is the master bedroom.”

The room was freshly painted in a soft yellow with accented white moldings. A ceiling fan slowly turned, and the wood floors gleamed. The house was not only charming, but a sense of relaxation also seemed to emanate from its walls. “What a great sanctuary after a long day at work,” Cassie said. “Do you like it, Peter?”

Peter turned to Brian. “If we can work out a rent I can afford, I’d like to move in tomorrow.”

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