She unlocked the front door and motioned Deborah to go inside first. A sneeze escaped Deborah as dust flew up her nose. She sniffed and sneezed again, turning her head toward the beautiful stained-glass window near the staircase leading up to the second-floor landing.
Home.
Maura talked about the house while she inspected each room. White sheets covered the furniture, and the walls had wonderful woodwork. She caressed one of the pillars near the kitchen, and a pleasant warmth built low in her stomach. The kitchen had white cabinets and peach-colored walls, much like the ones she had grown up with. Upstairs, the master bedroom faced the street, while the other one overlooked a backyard surrounded by a wooden fence. The bathroom matched the décor of the kitchen and even had a sunken bathtub.
“I’ll take it,” she announced in the middle of Maura’s speech about the former renters.
Maura stopped speaking and tapped her red-painted fingernails on the folder she held. “This may sound strange, but it’s like the house has been waiting for you.”
She wiped her hand on the sink and inspected the small bathroom, a smile hovering over her mouth. “I’ve…I’ve never been on my own before.”
Maura gave her a sympathetic look and patted Deborah’s back. She shifted to the side and rocked on her heels. “When can I move in?”
“The owner is very flexible and anxious for someone to move in. I don’t see why you can’t have the keys by Sunday, or Monday the latest. All I need is a three-month deposit and for you to sign a lease for six months.”
She calculated the cost in her head. Six months would work perfectly for her in case she had to leave suddenly if Genevieve—
Stop thinking about her!
“Sharon?” Maura asked in concern and touched her shoulder.
This time she didn’t flinch from the touch. “Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. The deposit and lease shouldn’t be a problem. Also, would it be too much of a problem if I met the owner and asked them any questions I might have?”
“The owner would love to answer any questions you have.” Maura’s lips twitched in humor.
She walked out to the hall and started down the stairs. “Why do I have the feeling you’re going to tell me the owner is one of your relatives?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Actually, the owner is me,” Maura replied.
She stopped mid-step and started laughing. Maura joined in and afterward, they sat at the kitchen table and went over paperwork and contracts Deborah would sign.
* * * *
Renting a house was the third biggest decision she ever made. The second was becoming a nurse, and the first was marrying Gen. She was the type who always thought long and hard before doing something so drastic, but her failed marriage had been the exception. The moment Gen had kissed her outside her dying mother’s room, one month after she started working for her, she’d wanted Gen and didn’t think of the consequences.
How was she to know by doing just that, she’d be the one damaged in the process? But she’d survived even with both physical and internal bruises. Now she was in the middle of her new home that was all hers for the next six months. Since she’d never rented a property before, she thought it would be more difficult, expecting Maura to run an intense background check. But she didn’t, and even bypassed a few other steps when Deborah said she was trying to start over again after leaving a bad relationship, and that she didn’t want to be found. Maura didn’t even bat an eyelash, and the only thing she expected from Deborah was the money up front. In less than forty-eight hours, she had the keys.
Grabbing her suitcase, she climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom. Instead of putting her things away in the drawers or closet, she pushed aside the curtains and opened both windows. The smell of freshly cut grass and a warm breeze entered the room. A dog barked somewhere in the vicinity, and she smiled at the thought of possibly owning a dog.
“I can’t believe I’m standing in my own house!” She covered her mouth and squealed in her palms. She may just be renting, and the house wasn’t in her name, but it was good enough for her.
Mom would love it here. She sat on the bed, dust floating up around her as she thought about her mother, and how she wished she could send for her but couldn’t because of the danger. If only she could make one phone call to make certain her mom was still alive and Gen hadn’t gotten to her—
Ding dong.
She jumped up from the bed and peeked outside the window. A white truck parked in front of her house. Her mattress had finally arrived! Clapping softly, she ran out of the room to welcome the workers in.
Tonight she’d be sleeping in her own bed and wouldn’t have to share it with anyone else.
CHAPTER TEN
Deborah put the rest of the glasses and dishes away in her newly cleaned kitchen. After her mattress had been brought in, she spent most of the morning cleaning and setting up the kitchen. She was grimy and sweaty but didn’t care. Next, she’d tackle the bathroom. After she was done in there, she would reward herself with a nice soak in the tub.
“There are just not enough hours in the day.” She wiped the back of her hand on her forehead. The breeze from the window didn’t do much to cool her. If she still had her long hair instead of her short cut, she’d be sweltering by now. With another swipe to her forehead and a back bend, she grabbed her bucket full of dirty, murky water and carried it outside near the back where she threw it on the grass. She fisted her hands on her hips as she viewed the sky. A few white puffy clouds floated by. Breathing in deeply, she stepped off the rickety steps and scuffed her sneaker in a crack as she thought of the various cleaning supplies she would need. The process of cleaning the house would take days, if not an entire week. When Maura said she’d have a cleaning crew come in, Deborah shot that idea down. She wanted to do the cleaning by herself—needed to do it.
She snorted silently at the amount of cleaning she still had to tackle and went to the garage shed-type structure she couldn’t wait to paint. She lifted on her toes to look through the darkened, dusty windows. Patting her pockets for the keys, she groaned, realizing she’d left them on the kitchen counter. Turning around to go back in the house, she froze when she heard an angry growl.
Less than five feet in front of her, a black Rottweiler, with its ears back and nostrils flaring, snarled at her. She stepped away with her hands out in front as the rabid-looking dog stalked her. When she landed into the garage door, a whimper left her mouth.
“Ni-nice doggy. Where’d you come from?” she asked the creature in a soothing voice to not upset it any more.
The dog let out a sharp bark and scurried over to her. Its nose brushed the top of her thighs, venturing toward her crotch.
“Hey!” She yelped as the dog molested her. She was ready to make a run for it, but the fear of being mauled and having her head torn off froze her in her tracks.