“We need to put something over the hole,” Claire said. “A tarp or a drop cloth or something.”
“How will we do that?” Liza was grateful for the suggestion, spoken in such a cool, level-headed manner, but she didn’t have the foggiest idea of how this remedy could be accomplished.
“We can use one of the ladders Daniel left and get up to the roof, then pull the tarp over. One person can stand up on the balcony on the third floor,” Claire suggested.
“That might work,” Liza reasoned aloud. “We have to try.”
The rain was still falling hard and showed no sign of letting up anytime soon.
Liza ran downstairs and pulled on clothes, then ran out to the shed and found three large tarps. Luckily they had ropes dangling off grommets on the corners. That would help to pull them up, she thought.
Peter was already outside with Jeff, positioning the longest of the extension ladders. He took a deep breath, gave his sister a look from under the hood of his yellow rain jacket, then reached for the biggest tarp.
“Go up to the balcony on the third floor,” he told Liza. “I’ll toss you one corner of the tarp. If you pull on it, maybe it will cover the hole.”
“We should tie a weight or something to one end, Dad,” Will said. “Then we can fling it over the peak of the roof.”
Liza looked at her nephew, who had come out into the rain with the rest of them. “Genius. Sheer genius. That’s exactly what we need to do, or it probably won’t reach.” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.
Will grinned, then ran off and found a good-sized rock. He tied one end to one of the ropes attached to the tarp, and finally Peter started up the ladder.
“I’ll hold the ladder steady,” Jeff told his ex-brother-in-law. Liza was surprised that he had come outside and was trying to help. It was a nice gesture, all things considered.
Liza ran upstairs to the third-floor balcony, where she waited for Peter to toss one end of the tarp over the roof to her.
After several attempts and some adjustments in their strategy, the hole was finally covered. Claire had come out on the balcony to help Liza while Jeff and Will shouted instructions to Peter from below.
The tarp was pulled tight and secured outside by tying down the ropes that hung from each corner with some large nails driven into the roof.
When the tarp finally seemed secure, they all went inside again. Jeff and Will headed for hot showers while Peter, Liza, and Claire went back up to the attic to make sure there was no more water leaking in.
It was still a disaster area to be sure. But they could see that the tarp covered the hole adequately, and only a small amount of rain still seeped through.
“It should hold for a while,” Liza said. “At least until the rain ends.”
“It’d better. I don’t think we can do anything more tonight,” Peter said wearily.
They were all exhausted and returned to their rooms. For the second time that day, Liza pulled off sopping wet clothes and put on a T-shirt and sweatpants, then dropped onto her bed. The clock read five minutes past five. She closed her eyes, hoping for a few hours of sleep before she had to get up and deal with this latest crisis.
What was going to happen to her next? She was afraid to even consider the question. One disaster at a time. That was her new motto.
LIZA managed to sleep for an hour or so but soon woke up, feeling anxious and worried. She went down to the kitchen and was surprised to find Claire already there, the scent of something baking filling the room with a buttery, sweet aroma.
The smell of coffee rose from a drip pot, and Liza helped herself to a cup. “The rain has stopped. At least for a while. Is the power on yet?”
“Not yet, that usually takes a few hours,” Claire replied.
Liza sat with her coffee and took a sip. “Thanks for your quick thinking last night. I would have never thought of covering the roof like that. We would all be swimming around in a fishbowl right now,” she joked.
“Oh, I’m not sure about that,” Claire replied modestly. “You would have come up with some solution.”
Maybe so, but Claire’s cool head and resourcefulness had definitely saved the day. Liza was grateful to her. Not just for the roof, she realized, but for all the help she had so freely given ever since Liza had arrived.
“I guess we’ll have to get the roof fixed before we can sell this place,” Liza said, thinking out loud. “No one’s going to buy it in this condition.”
“That branch has tossed a monkey wrench into your plans,” Claire agreed in a sympathetic tone. She opened the oven and peered inside. The cinnamon smell was incredibly delicious.
“Too bad for your brother, he seems to be counting on a quick sale.”
“Yes, he is,” Liza said. She had come here wanting a quick sale, too. But she felt differently about it now. Perhaps Claire sensed that. The next thing the housekeeper said made Liza think so.
“Did you ever hear that saying, ‘When God closes one door, He always opens another’?” Claire asked.
“My aunt used to say that whenever I got frustrated-trying to make a sports team or missing out on some job situation.”
Claire smiled. “Yes, it was one of her favorite sayings. She also used to say that the problem with most people is that they sit staring at the closed door so long, they never notice the open one.”
Liza didn’t recall that part of the proverb. A nice twist, she thought. Were she and Peter staring at the closed door right now, even with a huge branch poking right through it? Claire seemed to think so.
Funny how just yesterday when she visited the cemetery, she was thinking that her aunt would not have approved of such a rush sale, making such a big decision without taking their time, considering their choices. Looking for another open door. Looking at things… creatively.
Peter needed the money. He had made no secret of that. He was counting on it.
But I have money I can loan him or even give him, Liza realized. She and Jeff had sold their condo as a condition of their separation agreement. Liza had planned to buy a new property with her share, but the money was just sitting in the bank. Hers to do with as she pleased.
“Would you like a muffin?” Claire asked, setting a basket of hot muffins on the table.
Liza took one and put in on her plate. Then she peeled back the paper wrapper. “This looks great. What kind is it, carrot?”
“Not exactly. It’s called Morning Glory.”
Liza took a bite. “It’s good. Really good,” she said around a mouthful.
Claire looked pleased by her reaction. “It’s an old recipe, but it comes out a little different every time. It all comes together in the end, though. If you relax and take your time.”
Liza didn’t cook much, but she had some idea of what Claire was talking about. That was the way she had always felt about her art. She would set out with some concept for what she wanted to capture in a sketch or painting, but then she always had to allow for the work to take on its own life, to speak with its own voice. For the unexpected to evolve. That was the fun of it, the magic.
Liza wanted to talk more to Claire about this notion, but Jeff was coming down the hall toward the kitchen, dressed and ready to go. “Well, I’m off,” he said. “If the bridge isn’t open yet, I’ll just wait.”
“I think it will be open by now,” Claire said.
“Would you like some coffee before you go?” Liza asked. She and Jeff might not be a couple anymore, but they could be decent to each other.
He hesitated. “All right, just a quick cup.”
Claire poured a mug of coffee and handed it to him. He didn’t sit down but drank it standing.
“Thanks for helping out last night,” Liza said. “It was all hands on deck.”
“It was exciting. I sort of enjoyed it.” Jeff glanced at her. “A memorable chapter in a memorable visit.”