I Still Dream About You

Meeting Mrs. Dalton

AT EIGHT O’CLOCK THE NEXT MORNING, MAGGIE WAS SITTING IN the grand library at St. Martin’s in the Pines, waiting to meet with Mrs. Dalton and sign papers and pick up the keys to Crestview. There was a saying that no matter how far away Birminghamians moved, they always came back home in the end, and Dee Dee Dalton was no exception. She was from one of the old-guard iron, coal, and steel families and, at eighty-eight, had outlived four husbands and lived all over the world, but when she had returned to Birmingham for good, she’d moved back to her family home and had gone back to using her maiden name. It was easier for her friends. To them, she would always be Dee Dee Dalton, no matter how many husbands she had married along the way.

As she sat waiting, Maggie couldn’t help thinking how really odd life was. A few days ago, she had been so upset, and now she was glad she had gone to the beauty shop and had her hair done. Then suddenly, something else dawned on her. Since she had made that phone call to David asking about Crestview, she realized that she had actually stolen the listing right out from under Babs Bingington’s nose. She had never stolen a listing in her life, and it was a total violation of her code of real estate ethics, but… oh well. Too late now. The deed was done. And to her surprise, she didn’t feel bad about it at all.

Maggie had dressed in such a hurry, she was busy checking to see if she had left any tags on the clothes when Mrs. Dalton, still a handsome woman with bright blue eyes, walked into the library. Maggie stood to greet her, and Mrs. Dalton couldn’t have been nicer. After she signed all the necessary papers, she handed Maggie the keys to Crestview and said, “Here you are, dear. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to clear everything out of the house, but if there’s anything you want-dishes, paintings, furniture-just take it or else give it away. I have no room for anything here.”

When Maggie asked if she had an asking price in mind, she said, “Oh my, no, I haven’t any idea; I suppose you need to tell me what the market can bear.”

“All right, let me check the comparables in the area, and I’ll get back to you.”

“I hate to sell it, but all my children are dead-can you imagine? Of course, at one time, I had planned to leave it to the city, but now I don’t trust them to keep it up like it should be, so I’m hoping you’ll find someone who won’t knock it down to the ground, at least while I’m alive.”

Maggie said, “Mrs. Dalton, I promise you I will do my very best to find the perfect buyer.”

“Oh, thank you, dear, I’m sure you will; I have such happy memories of growing up there.” Mrs. Dalton’s eyes looked wistful as she continued: “We moved there right after word came from England that poor Mr. Crocker had been lost at sea. He had no family, except for one sister who lived in London, but she never came to Birmingham. So after he died, the house was left to my father, who was a partner in one of Mr. Crocker’s companies.” She smiled. “Of course, Mr. Crocker was especially fond of Mother, and I suspect it was really Mother he had left it to. He and Mother had been grand friends. Mr. Crocker was a confirmed bachelor. Over the years, she had helped him plan entertainments and with the gardens and such, so he trusted that she would continue to take care of it, I guess. And he was right. I think Mother loved Crestview as much as the Crockers had. Of course, I never knew Edward’s father, Angus Crocker, who had built Crestview, but Mother said that father and son were as different as night and day.” She looked back at Maggie, “Tell me, are you at all familiar with the house?”

Maggie nodded. “Oh yes, ma’am, I am. I’ve never been inside, but I have admired that house all my life. In fact, I always thought that Crestview was the most beautiful home in Birmingham.”

“Oh, really?” said Mrs. Dalton, obviously pleased. “Well, that’s just so lovely to know, dear. A lot of people your age don’t really appreciate the older homes. And Crestview has quite a history, you know.”

Maggie smiled. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”