Chapter 6 - Offers and Questions
"A house draws you in with an attraction all its own, revealing forgotten rooms, hidden places, and, in time, a reflection of the heart that keeps it."
— The Way of the Weathered Home: Practical Wisdom for Old Souls and Older Houses
Tilly arrived at her mother’s beachside house. Until a few days ago it had been her house too, but already she’s stopped thinking of it that way. She took a moment to breathe in the salt-tinged air as she approached the front patio where her mother sat chatting with Ted Carson. The view of the ocean was, as always, stunning—a blue expanse that stretched far beyond the edge of the shore.
Anne waved her over with a bright smile. “Matilda, come join us.”
Ted rose as she approached, extending a polite hand. He was smaller than she’d expected, with a soft expression and a patient gaze that seemed to put her somewhat at ease. She forced a smile and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you again,” she said, though she couldn’t remember if they’d actually met before or if her mother had simply introduced him in passing.
Ted gave a nod and sat back down, reaching for his laptop. “Thank you for meeting with me, Tilly. I know it’s a big decision, so I wanted to make sure I could show you exactly what we have in mind.”
He clicked through the first few slides, showing a rendering of the proposed building—a seven-story apartment complex with a classic, understated design. Tilly was surprised to see some familiar touches; the design echoed August House in a subtle way, with arched windows and stone accents. “We wanted to honor the original feel of August House, while providing a more modern, functional space,” Ted explained. “There’s even a plan to incorporate some of the current materials from the house to keep its character alive in the new design.”
The next slide showed a central courtyard, a miniaturized version of the existing garden, complete with winding paths, benches, and a scaled-down fountain. “This courtyard would serve as a green space for the residents,” he continued, “recreating as much of the current garden as possible. We’d transplant some of the older plants, keep the rose varieties, and ensure that the space has the same character as the original.”
Tilly studied the rendering, noting the effort to retain some of the original garden’s spirit. Ted went on, showing a few slides of additional communal areas, including an indoor café, a small grocery, and a shaded outdoor gathering space with seating—a self-contained community, built to encourage residents to connect with each other.
Anne leaned in, glancing from Tilly to the screen. “It’s a lovely way to give new life to August House, wouldn’t you agree?”
Tilly’s gaze drifted to her mother, who was watching her intently, a hint of satisfaction in her expression. She stayed silent, thinking of Benton’s advice and determined not to show any reaction yet.
Then, Ted opened the final slide, revealing the offer—an amount that was higher than she’d anticipated, high enough to prompt a quiet intake of breath. She tried to keep her reaction in check, aware of her mother’s gaze.
Ted gave her a moment, then spoke in that same unassuming tone. “We understand the legacy tied to this property. That’s why we’re making such a substantial offer; we want you to feel that your family’s story continues, even in a different form.”
Anne’s hand rested on Tilly’s shoulder, her voice gentle but with a knowing edge. “You’re young, Matilda. A lot of people might not recognize what a good deal this is. But it’s a rare opportunity for someone like Ted to take an interest at this level.” She smiled faintly. “I may have had a few conversations with him beforehand, just to ensure it would be handled with respect.”
Tilly’s fingers tensed slightly around the armrest. “Could you send me a copy of the presentation?”
“Of course,” Ted replied, his easy demeanor never faltering. “Take your time.”
Anne’s gaze softened, the faintest hint of patronization in her tone. “I’m glad you’re keeping an open mind, darling. It’s good to consider all your options.”
Tilly held back a sigh, managing a polite nod. “I’ll think about it.”
Ted gave a final, courteous nod and packed up his laptop. As he walked away, Anne’s hand lingered on her shoulder a moment longer than necessary. “You know,” she murmured, “not everyone would get this kind of attention for their family’s history. It’s something worth considering carefully.”
Tilly offered a thin smile, feeling the weight of her mother’s expectations settle over her, as the ocean waves rolled gently against the shore.
Tilly sat across from Benton in a small, corner booth at a cozy café in town, sunlight filtering through the windows to cast a soft glow over their table. Benton’s dark hair was perfectly smooth, tucked behind one ear, and her fitted blazer emphasized a quiet elegance. She looked like someone who belonged in sleek offices, not tucked into small-town cafés, yet she settled comfortably, as though blending effortlessly into any setting she chose.
Benton scanned the document Ted had prepared, her gaze sharp as she read through each line. She didn’t rush, her eyes lingering here and there, her fingers occasionally tapping the page thoughtfully. Tilly watched her with a mix of curiosity and anticipation, grateful for Benton’s help but feeling increasingly aware of how little she herself knew about offers and deals of this scale.
“This is a strong offer,” Benton said finally, her voice carrying an air of respect she hadn’t shown when she’d first heard about Ted’s proposal. “The kind of number that can turn heads. I’ll give him credit for understanding how to make an impression.”
Tilly nodded, feeling a small flicker of validation. But Benton quickly tempered her praise.
“However,” she continued, her voice dropping a notch, “Ted’s counting on the number dazzling you. Developers like him know that a generous figure at the start can push you into agreement before you’ve even started to look at the fine print.”
Benton gestured at the pages showing Ted’s vision for the apartment complex—especially the pages with the renderings of a central courtyard. Tilly leaned in, taking in the elegantly illustrated garden area and cozy communal spaces, a coffee shop nestled into one corner of the building. A smaller replica of August House’s garden was depicted in lush detail, flowers in full bloom, winding paths dotted with charming benches, even a small fountain in the center.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Tilly said quietly, feeling the pull of the familiar garden design.
Benton gave a slight shrug, her eyes narrowing as she considered the rendering. “Sure, it’s pretty on paper. But, Tilly, pretty drawings are just that: drawings. Developers use this kind of imagery to make their plans look thoughtful, grounded in community appeal. But I’ve seen plenty of projects where the reality doesn’t even come close.”
“What do you mean?” Tilly asked, feeling a small pang of disappointment.
“Well, for one, who’s maintaining this garden once it’s built? If you don’t keep up with something like this, it quickly turns from charming into an overgrown mess. And he’s saying he’ll ‘preserve the spirit’ of August House, but that could mean anything.” She gave a skeptical smile, her fingers lingering over the phrase on the page as though she could see straight through it.
Tilly shifted in her seat, glancing down at the document. “So you think he’s just saying what I want to hear?”
Benton shrugged, tilting her head. “Let’s just say I’ve rarely seen a developer build something this elaborate without cutting a few corners. And that means fewer flowers, maybe no fountain…who knows. This ‘historic-inspired facade’ might end up being no more than decorative shutters slapped on the windows. But he knows that by giving it the August name, it’ll catch people’s interest.”
Tilly nodded, trying to stay level-headed. “So he’s just… banking on the reputation, then?”
“Exactly.” Benton flipped to another page, tapping the offer amount. “See, Ted understands how to sell you on a vision. If you’re invested in his plan before you’ve even read through the fine print, he’s already won half the battle.”
“But he’s offering more than I expected,” Tilly admitted. “Way more.”
“That’s part of the strategy,” Benton said with a knowing smile. “It’s a way of making you feel like he’s being generous from the start, to keep you from looking too closely. And there’s also the matter of construction costs. Developers start high to bring people in, then scale back once budgets get tight.”
Tilly’s gaze returned to the page, the doubts creeping back in. “So what should I do?” she asked softly.
Benton tilted her head, studying Tilly as though considering her response carefully. “Ask for time. Don’t let yourself get pressured into anything quickly. These high offers are designed to rush you. If you ask for time, he’ll know he’s not dealing with someone he can steamroll.” She paused, a small smile flickering on her lips. “And, of course, you’re more than welcome to keep him wondering if there’s another buyer circling. That’ll keep him on his toes.”
Tilly nodded, feeling the reassurance of Benton’s confidence. “That makes sense.”
“And don’t forget, I’m just a call away if you need support.” Benton reached across the table, patting Tilly’s hand briefly before returning to her coffee. “Sometimes all it takes is the hint of competition to bring out the best in these offers.”
Tilly felt a swell of gratitude. “Thank you, Benton. I wouldn’t know any of this without you.”
Benton smiled, her gaze lingering on Tilly for just a moment longer than necessary. “Just remember, Tilly,” she said smoothly, “developers like Ted always look for a quick win. You take your time. And let’s see if he’s really prepared to offer what he claims.”
“Finally!”
The three women settled into the hot tub, the warmth rolling through the water. Tilly let herself sink lower, feeling her shoulders finally loosen. The air was damp and cool, and the faint scent of rosemary and salt lingered from the garden beyond. They’d managed to get the tub running just before dark, after hours of tinkering with valves and knobs, and the reward felt worth it. The porch lights glowed softly, illuminating the rising steam.
Across from her, Opal sat back against the edge, a serene look on her face. She had tied her hair up loosely, but a few strands had escaped and fell around her face, curling slightly from the heat. Tilly found herself noticing how, without the usual paint-smeared clothes and art supplies spilling out of her bag, Opal seemed unexpectedly polished, a softer side of her she hadn’t often seen. Aphid, on the other hand, had her hair piled high in a messy bun and sat perched close to the edge, her arms resting delicately on the rim as she took in the unfamiliar setting around her with wide-eyed interest.
Aphid sighed, gazing out over the shadowed shapes of the garden. “This place… I mean, just being here, it feels like there’s more to it. Like the house is… alive.” Her voice was soft, almost reverent.
Opal smirked slightly, rolling her eyes. “An old house that’s alive. Right.” She dipped her fingers into the water, creating small whorls around her hand. “Nothing like a haunted hot tub.”
Tilly caught herself bristling. “Maybe she’s onto something. Some houses do feel like they have a presence.”
Opal held her gaze a moment, looking almost like she might press back, but she just shrugged, a hint of a smile still lingering. “Maybe so. You’re the expert now, after all.”
They settled into a comfortable silence for a few moments, each of them watching the steam rise into the night air, listening to the faint sounds of the wind stirring the overgrown trees and the occasional distant call of a seabird.
Eventually, Tilly spoke up, her voice a little hesitant. “Ted Carson made an offer on the place. Big one, too.”
Opal raised an eyebrow, her interest clearly piqued. “Oh? How big are we talking?”
Tilly took a breath, hesitating before she finally said the figure aloud. Even now, hearing the amount again made her feel slightly off-balance, as if the number itself held some weight.
Opal let out a low whistle. “I mean, that’s… wow. With that, you could go anywhere, do just about anything you wanted.”
Aphid, who had been staring dreamily out toward the garden, looked back at Tilly, her expression thoughtful. “But do you actually need it? You’ve got the house, the library, you seem… comfortable.” She paused, tilting her head as if studying Tilly in a new light. “Would all that money make you any happier than being here?”
Tilly felt herself falter a bit, not entirely sure how to respond. She looked away, noticing the way the steam curled up into the night air and drifted away, as if escaping into the darkness. Beneath the water, Opal’s foot brushed against hers, a quick, fleeting touch. Tilly wasn’t sure if it had been intentional, but she let her foot linger just a little longer before shifting away.
“Plus,” Opal continued, her tone pragmatic, “you’d be walking away from a lot. The history, the stories, everything that’s been here for generations. Isn’t that why you wanted to fix it up in the first place?”
Tilly nodded slowly. “It is. But sometimes it’s hard to know if it’s worth it. I mean, it’s a lot to take on, and the offer… it’s tempting.”
Opal gave a small shrug, glancing at Aphid. “And there’s always the question of how much you really need, right? What was it Aphid called it? ‘Rich girl problems’?”
Tilly shot her a look, half-amused and half-annoyed. “Very funny. I’m hardly swimming in cash.”
Aphid chimed in, leaning back with an easy grace that somehow made the hot tub feel smaller, more intimate. “I’m serious, though. You’re here, you’re not struggling. Money’s nice, but it’s not everything.” She paused, looking back out toward the shadowy garden. “Some things are worth more. Like keeping something beautiful, keeping a connection alive.”
Tilly leaned back, looking up at the sky, where a few stars had begun to peek through the thin clouds. She hadn’t expected to feel this pulled in two directions, and she found herself wondering if maybe, just maybe, Aphid had a point.
Steam rose in lazy tendrils around them, curling into the cool night air as they sank deeper into the water, each settling into a comfortable silence. The bubbles hummed around their legs, their arms drifting just below the surface, catching glimmers of moonlight that slipped between the trees and the porch. The night felt close, the warm water drawing them together.
Opal leaned back, tilting her head toward Aphid with a look of faint interest. “So… Aphid,” she started, a hint of a smirk, “how’s it going with Nick?”
Aphid smiled, her fingers trailing along the surface. She gave a small shake of her head. “Oh, it’s not exactly ‘going.’ We tried, you know, the whole dating thing. But… it wasn’t really there.”
Opal raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Tilly, who was quiet, watching Aphid as she spoke. “What wasn’t there?” Opal pressed, a teasing curiosity in her voice.
Aphid shrugged, her gaze softening as she looked out toward the garden. “Chemistry, I guess. You know, you can like someone and think they’re amazing, but it’s more like… well, like sitting with an old friend, comfortable but nothing sparking.” She smiled, dipping her hand into the water and sending a light spray across the surface. “That’s what it’s like with Nick. We tried, but it’s clear we’re better as friends.”
Opal nodded, still grinning. “Makes sense. Besides, who wouldn’t want a friend like Nick?” She nudged Tilly’s foot lightly under the water, her eyes catching the corner of Tilly’s. “Right, Tilly?”
Tilly gave a small smile, feeling the warmth on her cheeks. “He’s a good friend,” she replied, aiming for casual, though her mind lingered for a moment on the memory of watching him swim, the easy grace of his strokes. She felt Opal’s foot brush hers again, the slightest pressure this time, and she kept her eyes on Aphid.
Aphid noticed and laughed softly. “No need to worry, Tilly. I think I got a pretty good sense of what he wants—and doesn’t want. He’s all yours, if that’s what you’re after.” Her tone was light, teasing.
“Oh, I’m not—” Tilly started, then stopped, realizing she was tripping over her own words. Opal chuckled beside her, and she nudged her foot against Opal’s under the water, deflecting with a half-smile. “It’s just nice having everyone here. You know… building something together.”
Opal leaned back, still grinning as she watched the steam rise and curl around them. “That’s fair. Besides, friendship’s a good deal. Just saying.”
Aphid nodded, a contented look on her face. She stretched her arms out along the edge of the hot tub, tilting her head back to watch the stars, a relaxed expression softening her features. The porch light caught her hair, casting a glow that made her look almost ethereal in the steam-filled night. The three of them settled back, the warm water a quiet backdrop to the evening.
Aphid stretched her arms along the rim of the tub, gazing thoughtfully at the stars. “You know, I actually think Nick might be Ace,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “Possibly Aro, too.”
Opal nodded slowly, as though she’d come to the same conclusion herself. “Yeah, I kind of got that sense, too,” she admitted, her voice low. “I just… didn’t want to assume or bring it up if it wasn’t my place.”
Tilly shifted, glancing between them with a touch of curiosity. “Ace? Aro?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. “Can you explain?”
Aphid turned her attention to Tilly, her face warm but serious. “Sure. Ace is someone who’s asexual. They don’t really feel sexual attraction, at least not to the extent most people do. It doesn’t mean they don’t want close relationships—it’s just that attraction can be different for them, or it might not be a big focus at all.”
Opal picked up, nodding. “And Aro is aromantic. That’s more about emotional connection. Someone who’s aromantic might not feel the kind of romantic attraction that usually leads to dating or partnerships. They might still want close friendships or even relationships, but without the same… expectations that most people have.”
Tilly processed this, her gaze drifting out over the garden. “So, Nick just… wants to be close to people without all the pressure to make it more?”
Aphid shrugged, dipping her hand into the water and letting it drift. “Yeah, I think so. And honestly, I think it’s nice. He just wants to be himself, without feeling like he needs to fit into anyone else’s idea of what a relationship should be.”
Opal watched Tilly for a moment, a quiet smile playing on her lips. “It makes sense, really. I think it’s part of why he seems so comfortable to be around.”
Tilly nodded slowly, letting the thought settle. "That actually… explains a lot. I've known him for a while, but it never quite clicked. I just thought he was reserved.”
Aphid clarified then, “I think that’s the case with Nick, but he hasn’t said it in so many words. I didn;t want to confront him.” After a moment Aphid asked Tilly, “So… have you ever had anyone you were really interested in? Like, really?”
Tilly hesitated, then let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I… well, I had a bit of a crush on Nick for years, since my freshman year in high school. Nothing ever came of it, obviously, but he just had this… I don’t know, but it was a presence that felt really steady. Dependable, even.”
Opal raised her eyebrows, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Nick? Dependable? I think he’d get a kick out of that. But I see it… all those broad shoulders and that whole unassuming hero vibe.” She chuckled, giving Aphid a knowing look. “Can’t say I blame you, Tilly. I think he’s practically made of kindness.”
Tilly grinned. “Right? It sounds silly, maybe, but he always seemed like he’d just… be there. I liked that.” Her fingers played along the edge of the tub as she stared at the water, the gentle bubbles rising and bursting in soft, quiet splashes. “But it’s not just him. I think… I think I just find people attractive in different ways. For different reasons.” She hesitated, warmth creeping up her neck as her eyes darted briefly over to Opal, catching her gaze for just a moment before she looked away.
Opal seemed to catch the look, her response just a soft, understanding smile, her expression open, as though she was giving Tilly space without pressing.
“It’s weird, though,” Tilly continued, her voice lowering a bit, as though she was talking more to herself than to them. “I feel like I’m all over the place when it comes to emotions. My mom’s always so composed, always knows exactly what she thinks. But showing emotions… or even understanding them?” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “It’s hard for me sometimes. Maybe because she’s always been so… reserved.”
Aphid tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “Maybe, but that’s not exactly a flaw. I mean, everyone’s got their own way of feeling things.” She glanced at Opal with a slight smile, then back to Tilly. “But if you’re worried, maybe it’s just something to get used to—like a new pair of shoes or a different way of walking.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Tilly paused, thinking back to her family dynamic, something she rarely discussed, even with friends. “I think it’s just… complicated. Growing up, I didn’t have much of a blueprint for this kind of thing. My mom had me through assisted conception, so it was just her and me most of the time. I mean, Clinton was around, but he’s a lot older, and we’re close, but it’s a different kind of close, you know? And Mom’s always been so… self-assured and straightforward, like she knew what she wanted from day one. Sometimes I think… maybe that made it harder for me to figure out what I want.”
Opal watched her, nodding slowly. “That makes a lot of sense, actually,” she said gently. “We pick up things from our families that we don’t always see right away. I mean, my family’s all over the place, but the things they taught me? It still shapes me.”
Tilly smiled softly. Sharing bits of it here, in this small, steamy corner of the night, felt grounding. “Thanks, both of you,” she said, her voice quiet. “It’s just nice to talk about it.”
The three of them relaxed back into the hot tub, each lost in their thoughts for a moment. The heat was soothing, easing away the weight of the conversation.
After a few minutes, Aphid broke the silence, nudging Tilly with her elbow, a mischievous look on her face. “So, you never told us… what about now? Do you have anyone on the radar these days?”
Tilly laughed, a bit embarrassed, shrugging. “No, not really. To be honest, I’ve never even dated before. Just little crushes here and there.” She paused, looking at the water. “I’m pretty inexperienced when it comes to relationships. I think I’m still figuring it out.”
Opal raised an eyebrow, her gaze thoughtful. “No dates? Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Tilly said, grinning despite herself. “I mean, I thought maybe with Nick, but nothing ever came of it. And now, I don’t know. I guess I feel like I just… I don’t know where to begin.”
Aphid leaned forward, her eyes warm with encouragement. “You’ll figure it out, Tilly. Who knows? Maybe August House has its own way of sorting things out.” She shot Opal a knowing look, as if to say that sometimes, the world just had a funny way of working things out.
Opal smirked, rolling her eyes. “Or maybe it’s up to you, Tilly, to start looking in the right places.” She lifted her foot from under the water, brushing it gently against Tilly’s leg, her eyes playful.
Tilly managed a smile, glancing back at Opal, still at a loss for words.