Blueprints: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

had put the bug in Brian’s ear, though it wouldn’t have been out of character. Roy saw Caroline as his aging ex-wife. He was constantly making little digs about her hair or her face, and when Jamie told him Caroline was having surgery on her wrist, he sighed and said, “That’s what happens…”
    Like there weren’t crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes?
    Like he didn’t wear orthotics in his running shoes to help a bum knee?
    Like she hadn’t caught him napping in the office after a late night out with Jess?
    So Jamie was angry at Roy, who at the very least hadn’t argued when mention was made of removing Caroline as host. And she was angry at Brian Levitt, who was behaving like a chauvinist. And she was furious at Claire Howe, who was a woman, for God’s sake, and should understand a female audience better than Brian.
    Another two blocks, though, and her heart was breaking for her mother. Caroline’s self-esteem was higher than it had been at any time since the divorce. This would be a terrible blow.
    How to deliver it?
    One thing was for sure. Jamie wasn’t breathing a word to Caroline today, not on her birthday, and likely not tomorrow, since she would be gone from dawn to dusk. And if she could convince Brian and Claire that this was a bad move, she might not have to tell Caroline at all.
    *   *   *
    She tried calling Brian, then Claire, but both calls went to voice mail. Vowing to try again later, she dashed into the bakery, then the grocery store for orders she had called in the day before. Back in her car, she sped through a world that was a myriad lush shades of green, with historic houses on every block and the scent of fresh-baked goods rising from the seat beside her. Habit had her waving at a MacAfee truck, then again when she passed a neighbor from her condo complex, and as she crossed through the little shopping area that marked the center of Williston, random townsfolk acknowledged her with a chin or a hand.
    The closer she got to Caroline’s, the better she felt. Forever the child? she wondered again. She hadn’t lived at home since before college, and never at Caroline’s current house, yet she was soothed simply turning onto her mother’s street. It was one of the most untouched in Williston, which was why, in a preemptive strike that only a town insider could make, Caroline had snapped up the house before anyone else could make a bid. MacAfee Homes would have renovated; Barth Brothers would have torn down and rebuilt. And wouldn’t that have been a crime? There was no place for new construction here, certainly not of the mega size the Barths would build on this kind of lot. A McMansion would change the entire character of a street where shade trees were old and luxuriant, lawns were thick with meandering roots, and drives were dirt or stone. The houses themselves were vibrantly painted Victorians, and while Caroline’s was smaller than most, its Queen Anne style heightened its charm. Teal clapboard was below, mint shingle above, all of it framed by intricately carved trim in pale blue with navy accents. Asymmetrically designed, it had a scrolled eave, a big bay window, a handsome turret, and a modest play of steep-sloped roofs, but it was the encircling veranda that Caroline claimed had sparked love at first sight. Rounding out into an open turret at the corner to allow for a wrought-iron table and vintage chairs, it was a fresh-air parlor ringed with hanging petunias in a riot of pinks. In good weather, this was where Caroline spent her free time.
    Sure enough, there she was as Jamie drove up, lounging in a wicker love seat that swung from a thick chain. Her bare feet were crossed on the front rail. A smile lit her face.
    With a popping of tires on gravel, Jamie turned into the driveway. Her convertible was red, the same color as the pickup parked at the garage, but while Caroline’s truck was the epitome of practical, with tools under its bed cover, dirt on its tires, and the