A Stranger in Wynnedower (7 page)

“I raised him. Well,
there was Aunt Eunice, but that’s another story.” She folded the towel and hung
it neatly over the oven door handle, then faced him squarely. “I have a lot of
nerve asking this, but I’d like to wait around a few days. Here.”

 He choked on his
coffee. Dark droplets splashed from his mug onto his shirt. She grabbed the
towel and rushed toward him, but he waved her back.

Towel still in hand,
she continued, “His manager said Jeremy asked for leave, but he wouldn’t tell
me for how long. Plus, I’m hoping to get a chance at a job interview in
Richmond.” She refolded the towel as she finished, “I don’t know anyone else in
this area. I’ll stay out of your way.”

He didn’t speak and she
added, “I can pay. Not a lot, but something.” She thought of the dingy walls
and half-hearted patching and painting. “I noticed signs of restoration going
on. I can help.”

Jack leaned back in his
chair. She was being measured. Casually, she took the chair opposite him and
pulled her coffee cup closer.

“Restoration? That’s a
pretty grand name for a project that never gets off the ground. The lack of
progress mirrors my ambivalence.”

“Ambivalence?” She
spooned some sugar into the coffee and stirred it, focusing on the aroma.

He crumpled the napkin
as he finished his sandwich. “Time, money and will.”

Encouraged because he
hadn’t said ‘no,’ she asked, “What are your options, then, if you’re not sure
about restoration? If you don’t mind me asking.” She sipped the coffee, then
added another teaspoon of sugar.

“I was away for several
years, only coming back now and then for short stays. Even when I’m here I
usually keep a caretaker because I can’t watch all four sides of the house.”

He toyed with his mug,
pushing it in a circle. “I have to sell or renovate. Wynnedower used to be in
the middle of nowhere, but the city is coming out to meet us. Or suburbia is.”
He went silent and seemed to be thinking, then continued, “I had the house inspected.
It’s amazingly sound. Mostly needs cosmetic work, but even to re-shingle a roof
this size—well, the cost is prohibitive.”

“Last night you called
it an anchor, but not in a good way. Anchors can mean stability.”

“Anchors also hold you
in place; they hold you back.” His attention seemed to drift and he spoke as if
to himself. “I’m tired of anchors. I’d like to get rid of them, not take on
more.”

Rachel seized the
opening. “I could help while I’m here. Watch for vandals and looters and such.
Plus, my car parked out front shows the house is occupied.”

Jack shook his head.
“Too dangerous. These folks operate in secrecy and usually in the dark. Even
the not-so-dangerous ones can be if they’re surprised.”

“I could alert you to
their presence.”

He opened his mouth,
and then shut it. He was staring in the direction of her coffee. She took
another sip, trying not to grimace at the taste.

“I could do some
painting and some lighter tasks. I can also make project plans and take
inventory.”

She paused. There was
no response. She gave it another try. “I came here to interview for a new job
thinking it would be fun to live in the same town as Jeremy. Not to interfere
in his life, but because we’re the only family we have. I was hoping for a
better job, too. The thing is, I set up an appointment knowing I’d be here
visiting Jeremy, but the man who was going to interview me went out of town on
an emergency, so I can’t even take care of that.

“I’d like to hang
around a few days in case Jeremy returns. I want to make sure he’s fine, and
then, when I know he is, I’ll…well, he’ll be sorry.”

“Of course.” His mouth
quirked up in a smile. “Why do you think he’ll come back here?”

“I just know it. He
knew I was coming to visit, so he’ll expect to find me here.”

Jack spoke in a soft
tone, “He knew you were coming and he left.”

“Oh,” she shifted in
the chair and tugged at her jacket to straighten it. “I arrived a few days
early.” No need to mention she’d arrived considerably early nor that Jeremy had
met a girl. No point in giving the wrong impression. She shrugged and smiled.
“I’m in limbo. I can stay or go back home. I’d rather stay. What about my
offer?”

“To work for room and
board?”

“That sounds about
right.”

He looked her up and
down, conspicuously so. “Okay, so today you look more useful than you did
yesterday in that red suit and the high heels, but….

“Carnelian red.”

“Carnelian. Is that
significant?”

“No. I like the sound
of it.” Silly, yes, but she didn’t care. She’d laid out her best arguments.
Now, it was time to move forward as if a decision in her favor was a foregone
conclusion. “I can get dirty with the best of them.”

“Is that so?” He raised
his eyebrows.

“I’m not afraid of hard
work.” She sat back. “I’d like to know about your vision.”

“My vision?” He
frowned.

“Not your eyesight.
Your
vision
. For Wynnedower. You said you were gone for years. Why did
you come back?” Nosy, but she sensed an opening and pressed the advantage.

“My family was rarely
here. My parents preferred city life. My father did the minimum to keep it
habitable. He expected eminent domain to claim it sooner or later, but most of
the city and industry went in the other direction.”

“Why didn’t he sell
it?”

“Good question, but a
boring answer. It was ‘in the family,’ and he couldn’t bring himself to dispose
of it. Guilt. Now, it’s mine. My problem.”

“What do you want to do
with it?”

“Sometimes I want to
burn it down.” He tapped his fingers against the table. “I’m not wealthy. I
can’t afford to restore it merely to live in it. It’s huge and inconvenient.
I’ve considered turning it into a bed and breakfast combo party rental
facility. For things like weddings and such, but–”

Rachel ceased hearing
Jack, but instead, in her head, she saw a bride poised on that grand stairway
with the guests looking up in admiration. Her pulse quickened.

“Are you staying with
historically correct renovations? Or a mixture? Maybe a combination? Or perhaps
eclectic?”

His black eyes fixed on
hers. She shivered.

“Tell me what you
mean.”

“Well, historically
correct is lovely, but your house defies that. It’s so ugly.”

“You think Wynnedower
is ugly?”

“Ugly beautiful, I
mean. For instance, the exterior looks like it’s straight out of the Cotswolds
in England, except for the grand entrance which smacks of ante-bellum south.
Those iron key plates on the doors…they’re like something from an even earlier
time, almost colonial.

“Make the combination
an asset. Elegant distinctiveness.” She had no idea what that meant. Where had
those words come from? She wasn’t really lying. A pretender, then? She’d read
an article or two and maybe seen some photos, and it all came together in her
head—with her acting like she knew what she was talking about.

“Elegant distinctiveness?
I like the sound of it. What do you do for a living? Are you a decorator? An
historian?”

“No, I’m not a
decorator, but I’ve always enjoyed that kind of thing.” How was that for vague?
She touched her nose, half-convinced it was growing. “In real life, I’m an
inventory specialist.”

“Really?”

“It’s as boring as it
sounds.”

“You said you’re here
for a job interview?”

“At a museum in town.
As an assistant. But the man I was supposed to interview with was called out of
town for a family emergency.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “I’m
overreaching anyway. Not really qualified, but it was tempting to think of
doing something different. When they contacted me to schedule an interview,
well, I never expected it, and I was so excited.”

“If it’s only for a few
days, then maybe you could stay here. No need to work.”

He didn’t say it like
an offer, but more as if he was thinking out loud. This time Rachel didn’t
interrupt his thoughts. Instead, she clasped her hands together and tried to be
patient.

“As you say, you’ll
have a view of the front of the house. But, I’m firm about this—you aren’t to
confront anyone. If you see anyone outside or anywhere around here, you call me
immediately and stay out of it.”

“I want to be useful. I
can’t sit around doing nothing.”

“But for only a few
days…. There’s no point.”

She leaned forward, her
elbows on the table.

“I can use my training
to your benefit. I’m methodical, thorough and detailed. I can go through the
house and make a list of tasks and suggestions. We can review it and sort out
what you’ll need to do if you proceed with the renovation.”

Jack chewed on his lip
and played with the coffee cup. “An inventory specialist, you said. Actually,
that skill might be useful. There are some furnishings in a few of the rooms and
in the attic. I don’t have a list. Whether I stay or sell, an inventory would
be good. It’s a big task, though.”

He frowned, but not in
anger. His eyebrows almost touched. “I suppose you could get it started.
Perhaps the next caretaker will come with inventory skills and can finish what
you begin.” He fixed his eyes on her face. “You’ll be alone in the house with
me. Will you be uncomfortable?”

She stared right back.
“I’m the one who suggested this, remember?” She added a smile. “It’s only for a
few days while I wait to hear from Jeremy.”

Jack rose, picked up
his empty coffee cup and reached for her cup of squishy tan sugar. Rachel’s
stomach cramped at the sight of it.

“I think you’re done
with this?”

“I am.”

He tilted the cup back
and forth without change of expression, then placed both cups in the sink. “A
trial basis, then. For both of us. One day at a time.”

“It’s a deal, and thank
you.”

****

He returned to the
kitchen holding out a large ring of skeleton keys. “These aren’t identified by
room. Some open multiple doors, some only specific doors. There’s no logic. Try
each one until you find the door it fits.”

The keys jangled and
clunked when Rachel shook them. “How do you manage without knowing which doors
they match up with?”

“I have others that are
identified, but spares are important. As you identify which key works which
door, tag it in some way. I’ll get some tags at the store. I have a notebook
you can use for the inventory.”

“Do you have Internet?”

“No Internet. I’ll show
you around the main floor. Upstairs you can find your own way around.”

She walked with him
into the open area near the stairs.

“Skip the rooms at that
end, upstairs and down.” He pointed eastward. “Leave them alone. You’ll have
your hands full with the other rooms.”

“What’s downstairs?”

“A basement. Coal used
to be stored there, and half of it was finished off for servant rooms and
storage. There’s nothing down there, so ignore it, too.”

She nodded. “This is
the largest living room I’ve ever seen. It’s more like a ballroom.”

“It’s called a central
hall. Don’t know why, it just is. It was used like a living room.”

He pointed toward the
alcove that had been so pitch black the night before. In the more helpful light
of day, she could see the closed double doors inside that short, dogleg hallway.

“Straight back, through
those two doors, is the dining room. It’s a huge room with amazing light. I’m
using it right now for my own purposes, so ignore that room. You already know
what’s to the right of that, the hallway with the windows, the kitchen and my
quarters.”

Ignore the east end of
the house. Ignore the basement and the dining room, too. She tried to tamp down
her exasperation.

“What you said about
the mix of historical periods in Wynnedower, is right on target. You’re
perceptive for an inventory clerk.”

“An inventory
specialist
.
We’re paid to notice things.”

“No offense intended.”
He cleared his throat. “Much of the stone and exterior features, like the
windows, were shipped from England. Other parts were cannibalized from derelict
mansions in the general area around Richmond.”

She stopped short, not
quite believing him. “Stone shipped? Across the Atlantic? The cost must have
been exorbitant.”

“New wealth. The
industrial age. It was a time of easy money and excesses—for the wealthy. Think
of the houses in Newport, Rhode Island. Wynnedower’s stone came from an
abandoned estate in England. That house had become unstable due to coal mines
that undermined the foundation. The stone used in Wynnedower is only a fraction
of that estate.”

Rachel turned in a slow
circle. “So that explains it.”