This Seat's Saved by Heather Holleman

Author:Heather Holleman [Holleman, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Moody Publishers
Published: 2023-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

MRS. BURGLEY’S SECRET

October in Pennsylvania looks like a forest full of fireworks frozen overhead. You walk underneath gold, burgundy, red, orange, bright yellow, and even purple explosions. And with a bright blue sky overhead, you feel like you’re swallowed up in color.

The air turned so crisp that I raked the Burgleys’ leaves in my fleece jacket and mittens. Mrs. Burgley would come over to me with a mug of hot apple cider and ginger snaps and tell me what a hard worker I was. But it didn’t feel like it was work out there as I sipped cider and tried not to spill it when Bo and Bee ran circles around me. And I even felt guilty when Mr. Burgley handed me my one hundred dollars every Saturday in September. I would’ve worked for the Burgleys for free.

On the first Saturday of October, Mrs. Burgley said we’d also start the inside work of sorting her things for donations or the trash.

I imagined the Burgley home would smell musty and old and full of hoarded papers and trinkets. I had never been inside yet; our Saturday lunch always involved eating ham sandwiches on the porch with Oreo cookies and potato chips, which I gobbled up after working for three hours spreading fresh mulch in their front beds and helping Mrs. Burgley arrange pots of orange mums on her front porch and sidewalk. We were supposed to make the front yard look ready for potential buyers.

But when I stepped inside, I smiled as I inhaled the warm smell of baking apples and fresh bread. Mrs. Burgley stood in a pure white kitchen with shiny silver pots hanging overhead. Everything was bright and tidy and organized. I loved her style—like the blue bowl of shiny red apples on the counter and the bouquet of dried blue hydrangeas in the middle of the big oak table. She stirred apple cider on the stove and told me a pie was in the oven for after lunch.

In their living room, Mr. Burgley sat reading a book next to their wood-burning stove in a large brown recliner. The Penn State pregame show was on in the background. This room, too, was clean and sparse with just a cream-colored couch that held big pillows and several crocheted blankets and a wooden coffee table. I couldn’t imagine what I’d need to sort and organize in a house this clean.

I always thought my house was clean, but this? I recalled Cally’s pile of dance shoes and my own stack of books and homework on the kitchen table. I thought of my mom’s craft projects in the living room. A basket of unfolded laundry was usually sitting at the bottom of the stairs, and we scattered our library books we were done with on the stairs themselves—reminders to take them back by their due dates. I wanted a place like the Burgleys’ house one day—open and clean and cozy and simple. I wanted Mr. Burgley’s big window that overlooked Spring Creek.

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