Free Prospect Street by Emilie Richards Page B

floors, insisting that the floors and broken slate on the roof were her duty.
    Remy halted in front of the house. “I hope they plan to do more than that.”
    â€œThere’s no time, but you’ll be amazed how much better the place will look once we patch and paint. And once we put new appliances in the kitchen.”
    â€œCan we bring our refrigerator?” Alex loved the side-by-side they had installed in the McLean house. He had nearly worn out the ice chute on the front door trying to figure out how it worked.
    â€œAfraid not. It would take up the whole kitchen.”
    â€œDon’t worry, Alex.” Remy mimicked her mother’s voice. “We can always eat at one of Georgetown’s fabulous restaurants if our new refrigerator can’t hold any food.”
    Faith laughed, not the effect Remy had intended. “Listen, I’ve cooked so many meals in my life that eating out every night would be a dream come true.”
    â€œYou like to cook,” Alex said. “You like all that stuff.”
    Faith wondered if that was true. She had never given cooking much thought. She’d simply seen three attractive and nutritious meals a day as her life’s calling. “Well, I also like pizza, and once I start working, we’ll be having it more often. Unless you guys learn to cook.”
    She paused on the stoop. She wasn’t even sure why, except that she’d seen movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned and gazed at the house next door, where the old woman with the turban had been standing when they had come here with Lydia.
    The woman was there again, dressed much the same, although this time her outfit was dazzling fuschia. Faith waved. Despite her mother’s warning, this woman was going to be her neighbor. She introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Faith Bronson. And these are my children, Remy and Alex. We’re moving in next week.”
    â€œIt’s not fit for habitation. Your mother abandoned it to the contempt of strangers.”
    Faith realized the woman must know who she was. “I’m afraid my mother didn’t tell me your name.”
    The woman disappeared. A moment later Faith heard the sound of the window closing.
    Remy moved aside so her mother could unlock the door. “Oh great. Nutty neighbors, too.”
    Faith couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll just bet there’s a story there.”
    Remy swept inside the moment the door was open. “Alex, you go next,” Faith said. “In case we have an infestation of dragons.”
    She joined her brood of two after she locked the door behind her. They were standing together in the middle of the living room, staring at their new home. For a moment Faith gave in to the despair she saw in her daughter’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine the house as anything other than what it was right now. A filthy, dilapidated wreck, haunted by the ghosts of better times—and worse.
    â€œSometimes…” Faith knew she had to say something. “Sometimes you really have to see things at their worst to appreciate them at their best.”
    Remy dropped the box of rags with a resounding thump. “Do you have a stupid saying for every occasion?” Before Faith could answer, Remy burst into tears and fled up the stairs.
    Alex moved close enough that Faith could put her arm around his shoulders. “Remy doesn’t know how to look at things and see what they can be,” he said. “That’s what inventors do.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Faith fought back her own tears. “Do you think you could invent something fast to fix this place up?”
    â€œIt’s already been invented.”
    â€œFire?”
    He dug his elbow into her side. “Hard work. That’s what you told us, remember?”
    She took comfort in the fact that if she hadn’t done anything else of worth in her life, she had given birth to this young man. “Let’s get