hung up the phone. Who had the first refusal? She shrugged. There’s always something. She returned to the stack of papers on her desk, sorting out which items of business required her immediate attention, and which could wait. The phone rang.
“Hello. Christine James speaking.”
“Hello, Mrs. James. I want to know what my house is worth.”
“Certainly. I’ll come out and give you an evaluation. What is your name, please?”
“Gladys Forsyth.”
“And where do you live?”
“Right beside Samuel Owens’ place. I’ve got an acre. It’s a small house. My name’s not on the mailbox, but you can’t miss it. It’s the first lane past the Owens’ big black gates.”
“Is there any time that would be convenient for you?”
“I’ll be here all day. You know why I’m calling?”
Christine took the bait. “To get your house evaluated?”
“Yes, but, strange thing. You know LeFarge Realty?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Some young man called me from LeFarge Realty and offered me cash for my house. I would’ve taken it, but my son told me to check it out. You’re the first real estate agent I saw in the Yellow Pages, so that’s why I called.”
“It’s always a good idea to get a second opinion.”
“That’s just what my son says.”
“Well, Gladys, I’ve got to make a trip close by anyway, so why don’t we say eleven thirty or twelve?”
“Any time you get here is swell.”
Christine hung up. She knew exactly where Gladys lived. The shack. Old car carcasses, rusted metal junk, and cats. Dozens of cats. Off the top of her head she couldn’t think of who would be putting in an offer. She took the price of an acre of land in Caledon, then multiplied it by six because a severed acre with hydro and sewage was worth that much more. Since the house was worth nothing, she planned to give that base figure as her estimate.
She checked her watch. She’d have to leave soon. Hilary came into her study, followed by Pepper.
“Hi, Mom. Busy?”
“Never too busy to talk to you.”
“I brought you a coffee.”
“Wonderful. I’ve got just enough time for a coffee, then I’ve got to go.”
“What are you doing?”
“Running around. Real estate stuff.”
“Will you be back by three?”
“I’ll be home well before that. Why?”
“Because Abby’s coming to ride Dancer after school, and I could come with you if we’d be back by then. I’m leaving tomorrow and I have nothing to do but study and I know the stuff backward. Plus it’s too nice a day to stay inside.”
Christine smiled. “I couldn’t think of nicer company.”
Lucy caught up with Abby between classes. “Abby! Over here!”
“Lucy, if this is about Sam, forget it. I don’t want to hear about it.” Abby kept walking, face straight ahead. She spoke harshly. “I don’t care a thing about him, and I wish I’d never said a word about liking him again. It’s all over the school! It’s embarrassing. I’m over him, totally!”
Lucy regarded her friend with skepticism as she kept up with her pace. “Liar. Anyway, it’s not about Sam, so you don’t have to be so touchy.”
Abby stopped and looked at her. “What’s it about, then?”
“Dancer. My grandfather told me that you rode him yesterday. Cool!”
“Yeah.” Abby’s face softened. “He’s a fantastic horse. How did your grandfather hear?” Lucy’s grandfather, George Farrow, had given Abby her first job riding Moonlight Sonata.
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