Catching Her Rival

Sounds good. I do have to get work done before Monday morning, so I can’t stay too long.

Charlotte wrote back.

I’ll search through my mom’s files to see if I can find anything about my adoption before you get here. Can’t wait.

Allie smiled. Me, neither.

She went back to Jack’s message and hit Reply.

I’m glad she gave you my number. Hope to talk to you soon.

She hit Send and felt a rush of adrenaline. This could be a huge mistake.

She stripped out of her dress and underwear before heading to the bathroom, where she’d left her nightshirt hanging on the back of the door. She slipped it on, brushed her teeth, washed her face and applied moisturizer.

When she came out of the bathroom, there was a voice mail message on her phone. She must not have heard the phone ring over the water running.

She smiled as she listened to Jack’s message.

“Hey, you said you hoped to talk soon, so here I am.” He paused. “Guess you must be sleeping by now or maybe don’t want to talk this late. I wanted to say good-night.” He paused again. “So good night.”

She shook her head, both amused and touched. Damn, he’s good.

As much as she desperately wanted to call him back, she resisted.

After all, she was off men.

* * *

EARLY THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Charlotte was on a mission. She diligently went through box after box after box of her mother’s papers. She’d repeatedly put off the task, but now that she’d met Allie, Charlotte had a driving force behind her.

When she’d cleaned out her mother’s house to sell it after her death, Charlotte hadn’t taken the time to go through everything. Instead, she’d packed the papers into plastic boxes with lids. Now she regretted not sorting through them earlier. Mom had been a saver. She had receipts and old bank statements from over three decades ago, but nothing yet that pertained to Charlotte’s adoption.

She’d like to take a good look at her birth certificate, but she had it locked in her safe-deposit box at the bank, which was closed on Sunday afternoons. She hadn’t used it in years.

Her phone went off, announcing a text message. She put down the pile of papers she was sorting and grabbed it. Allie.

I’ll be there in a few minutes if that’s still ok.

Charlotte replied.

Can’t wait. See you soon.

She’d texted her address to Allie last night. She’d been hoping that she’d have found something by now to help them make sense of the information they had about their adoptions—which was little to nothing.

Charlotte went to the kitchen to wash up, feeling gritty after handling all the dusty papers.

By the time she stepped out onto her porch, Allie was parking her car.

“Hi,” Charlotte said with a wave, trying to control her excitement.

Allie grinned back and waved. “Hi, Charlotte!” As she got closer to the porch, she commented, “Great house!”

Charlotte appreciated the compliment. “Thanks! I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.”

“How long have you been here?” Allie asked as she ascended the porch steps and the two women hugged.

“Since last fall, a few months after my mom died. I had given up the apartment I’d been renting and moved in with her to take care of her while she was sick. When she passed away, I sold her house because I couldn’t bear to be in it without her, surrounded by so many memories.” She opened the front door and stepped inside. “Come on in. I’ll give you a tour if you’d like.”

Allie’s eyes widened. “I’d love it. These older homes have so much character.”

“Character,” Charlotte repeated. “Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it. More like repairs when you’re least expecting them.”

They laughed as they went through the living room and into the dining room, then on into the kitchen. “There’s a full bath in there,” Charlotte said, pointing to the doorway in the dining room. “There’s a shed in the small backyard, and I’m trying to grow a few vegetables in a garden, but nothing else exciting out there. Let’s go upstairs.”

The narrow staircase was on the side wall of the dining room, and Charlotte told Allie about the house’s history as they went up to the second floor. “The house was built in 1900, and the hardwood floors are original. In the eighties, the owners made some improvements, but I’ve been told they didn’t keep with the history of the house. In 2005, the home was sold. Thankfully, the new owners returned it to its turn-of-the-century feel by uncovering the brick wall on the far end of the house and installing more appropriate plumbing fixtures.”

They reached a small hallway. “Straight ahead is the guest room,” Charlotte said, and then led the way through another doorway. “In here is where I have my studio set up.”

Allie entered the room. “I love this! The light is wonderful in here.”

There were large windows at eye level, as well as a gorgeous window near the ceiling that ran the length of the wall and had amazing scrollwork. “That window up there and the skylight were what sold me on the house.”

“I should’ve asked you what you do, but you’re obviously an artist,” Allie said, looking around at the supplies and paraphernalia Charlotte had neatly arranged. She’d spent more time organizing in here than going through her mother’s old files. “Is it for fun, or is this how you make your living?”

“I’m lucky enough to be able to support myself with my art,” Charlotte said. “I’ve had several shows in the past few years, but not many since my mom got sick. Most of my sales right now are over the internet. My dream is to open a brick-and-mortar gallery.”

“Newport is a great place for that.”

“That’s actually why I decided to move here from Vermont. Newport’s also close enough to New York City and Boston to be able to have shows in those cities.”

“This is wonderful,” Allie said of a depiction of some historic Newport doorways done in pastels, hung above a shelving unit.

“Thank you. I did that about two years ago when I came here to paint some of the historic buildings. That’s when I fell in love with the town.” About a year prior to her mother’s diagnosis.

Allie pointed to a door on the far wall. “Is your bedroom through there?”

“Yes. Kind of an odd setup having to go through this room to get to that room. That’s why I chose the other bedroom for guests.” Not that she’d had any visitors except her college roommate coming through town a few weeks ago. “You said you have work to do today. What do you do?”

“I’m in advertising,” Allie said. “I recently started my own agency, and I’m hoping to land a large account tomorrow. My presentation is close to being done, but it’s not quite there.”

“How exciting. Somehow I’m not surprised that we are both entrepreneurs.”

“With a creative side, too,” Allie added. “I’m not nearly as good as you, but I do a lot of freehand drawing in my line of work, as well as animation.”

“Wow, that’s another thing we have in common. Come on.” Charlotte waved her hand. “Let’s go downstairs and see what else we can learn about each other.”

* * *