Noel looked around with awe. She was a closet cook, someone who loved to try new recipes but seldom had the time or money to indulge herself. At her job in the restaurant, she had been known to whip up a special dish for certain customers, and the results were delicious.
“This is great,” she said enthusiastically, running a finger over the slick surface of the counter. “Can we use it to cook?”
“Of course,” Charles responded. “You’re welcome to use it as long as it’s kept in good order. It’s already stocked with utensils, pots and pans, food basics,” he listed as he opened the cabinets to reveal the contents.
“Great,” Noel repeated, clearly enthralled with the set up.
“If there is anything else you need, we can make sure and get it,” Charles continued. Then they moved through the kitchen to the next room. This was obviously the office for the hotel. Tasteful wallpaper covered the plaster, and the hardwood floors had been refinished. Three large bookcases lined the back wall with a wooden desk in front. The window was open, letting in a soft breeze that ruffled the papers on the desk. Building plans, catalogs, and printed receipts were scattered carelessly, and a laptop computer was pushed off to the side of the desktop. Charles sat behind the desk, apparently most comfortable in this room.
Claire decided the interview was about to begin. And 15 minutes later, Claire found Charles was more serious about the job than Noel had alluded. His pointed questions reviewed her education and work history as well as her goals for the future. Claire found herself discussing her major, her plans for her life after graduation, and her family. Both girls had brought their resumes, and Charles appeared to be very familiar with those as well.
Charles seemed to be satisfied and went on to discuss the terms of the job. He wanted them to agree to stay at least four months. After that they were welcome to stay on as long as they wanted since he was sure it would take longer to complete the renovation.
Claire was reluctant to agree to an extended contract that specified time, but when Charles mentioned the hourly wage, Claire was pleasantly surprised. It was more than twice as much as she’d been paid at her other job, and this job included a free place to live. Charles also agreed to give them mileage money due to the commute to and from the University.
When Claire left the office she felt as though, once again, fate had taken a hand in her life. There was no question, Claire thought grimly. They would take the job and smile, even if they had to clean the toilets with a toothbrush. They hadn’t any choice.
Claire quickly realized why Charles had sealed the deal in the renovated office when they continued upstairs. Halls stretched out in either direction, angling at the wings to continue to the end of the corridor where it widened into an ornate doorway. Beyond that were the turrets, which Charles explained contained a wooden spiral staircase that led to one room at the top of each tower overlooking the landscape below with enormous glass windows.
Charles backtracked down the hall and paused to open the four doors to the right, throwing open each rather dramatically. He stepped back with a flourish.
“These are the first bedrooms we’ve completed. You can have your choice to stay in, these or one in the wings. We’ve got six completely ready. You can bring any furniture you need or take some pieces from the other rooms. Just let us know what you need or what you have found, and we can help move some of the heavier stuff.”
Claire and Noel walked doubtfully into the first room. The ceilings were impossibly high giving the room a feeling of unending space. The walls were neatly painted with neutral colors, the wooden floor polished to a mirror shine. A carved wooden fireplace dominated the room and massive bed, carved from the same wood, stood built on a pedestal. The windows were small, and the light was colored in a dozen shades by the stained glass. The carvings appeared to be related to the ones seen on the staircase out in the hall with hunting scenes of wild animals, hounds, and formally dressed hunters.
Claire suddenly felt a strong draft and turned to look behind her. But the hallway was still, and the house was silent. She turned with an odd feeling of distaste and walked out of the room to the next. To her disappointment, all the rooms in the cluster appeared to be alike with the violent scenes being played out on the headboard of the bed and the fireplace.
“You don’t have to choose your rooms now. We’ve got several others that are close to being finished in the wings, but these are the largest. It was the master suite for the older part of the house and rooms for the first sons. The people who completed the house a little later built their own suite in one of the wings and gave these rooms to visitors. Our architect, John, has chosen one of these rooms to stay in.” Charles turned and led the way down the hallway and up the stairs at the center to the next floor. It was an almost exact copy of the hall below with long rows of doors opening to the right and the left.
They trudged over most of the public spaces, went out one of the back doors to look at the lawns, and back in to front foyer. By the time Charles had shown them some of the unfinished bedrooms and dressing rooms, both girls were tired, overwhelmed, and hungry.
Claire checked her watch and noted it was after 2:00 in the afternoon. She and Noel both needed to get back in town for classes and explained this to Charles. Charles instantly agreed to lead them back into town.
“I don’t want to chance ruining your grades this early on,” he said cheerfully. “Now that we’ve got you, we want to make sure to keep you.”
“Well, thanks,” Noel said, looking decidedly satisfied. They wound their way over the stone and weeds of the driveway and stopped at the parked cars.
“Let me take you to lunch in town before you go back to class,” Charles offered.
“Sure,” Noel responded before Claire could say anything. Not that she minded too much. She was hungry and the fact was, they were short on funds. A quick lunch would be a nice ending to their adventure.
“We’ll follow you,” Noel assured Charles and slipped into the driver’s seat.
Charles nodded and pulled open the gate before climbing into his own car. They had to pause again once through the gate so Charles could close it after them.
“Okay, so what do you think now?” Noel asked, glancing at Claire as they started crossing the one-lane bridge.
“Umm, well, it’s going to be a whole lot of work, but the money is fantastic! We’ll be able to pay our bills off and start on our savings.” She looked out the window, squelching a stab of unease as the trees closed around them.
“This is going to be a whole new life for us,” Noel said confidently. And Claire felt a cold breath trace her spine.
Chapter Three
The morning sun pierced the yellow curtains and cast a soft light over the bedroom. The carpeted floor was littered with papers and boxes, the drawers of the dresser hanging slightly open.
Claire and Noel had begun packing days ago, pulling posters off the walls, boxing up books and papers, and cleaning out closets. They had managed to empty several boxes into the car but had quickly run out of space.
Claire squinted against the light and rolled over to bury her face in her pillow. Today was the big day, moving day.
She heard Noel already moving in the kitchen. The sputter of the coffee maker blended with the sound of the news over the radio. The smell of the coffee drifted across the hall and into the bedroom the two girls shared. Claire couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a room of her own. She had shared a space with someone for the last six years, and the idea of her own domain was a luxury she couldn’t wait to indulge in.
Claire swung her feet to the floor, bending over to roll up the braided rug at her bedside. She dropped it into a box as she went out into the kitchen. The carpet under her feet was gray with large stains of brown in the hallway. The kitchen linoleum’s yellow surface was also graying with burn marks near the stove. Claire sat at the table slumped with her head in her hands, and waited as Noel poured their coffee.
“Ar
e you ready to start loading things into the truck? Ben said he will be here at 10:00.”
Claire looked up at Noel wearily. “How can you be so cheerful? We only got four hours sleep, and we worked all of yesterday. I feel like the truck ran over me.”
Noel grinned. “A new day. Come on! Let’s get going. We have a lot of packing to finish before we can start loading the boxes into the cars.”
Claire looked after Noel as she started into the living room. Then she looked back at her coffee cup and took another sip. She groaned and got up to dump another spoonful of sugar in the cup. She was going to need all the energy she could get.
As she gathered the last of her clothes, her mind ventured back to her dream the night before. When she usually had dreams, they were foggy and unmemorable, unlike the dreams she remembered suffering in her teenaged years. During that time, that horrible time when her reality had twisted so severely, her nightmares had been a regular event, as frightening as they were realistic. But it had been a long time, years really, since she had dreamed like that. However, the dream from last night had seemed to mimic some of that clarity. It was ironic that, for all the time she had lived in the apartment, an older building, singularly ugly and unremarkable, she had never dreamed of that building. But last night, she had plainly seen it in her nightmare, the very rooms she now inhabited. The figure in her dream had been a young man, his dress uniform neatly pressed. He had stood at the foot of Claire’s bed, looking at her curiously with a mild frown creasing his brow. In her dream, she had opened her eyes to see him standing straight and tall, a faded picture from the past, but had not screamed or even cried out. She had just gazed back at him, cautious but unafraid. Finally, her dream-self had sat up and pulled her covers to her shoulders, leaning forward to study him more closely until he looked away. His eyes seemed to search the apartment, and he turned his head to scan the room before he moved into the hallway. As he turned back to face her, Claire saw his lips move silently, forming the words: Where’s my mother? But there was no terror, no cold chills, no prickling sensation climbing her spine. Then he was gone, in his wake the lingering scent of something spicy and sweet, perhaps tobacco. As far as nightmares had been, it wasn’t the worst she had suffered, but she knew from experience it could be so much worse.
Claire shook her head to clear it. They couldn’t be coming back! Those dreams, those hideous nightmares! The ones where someone, or worse, something not human, appeared to her out of nothing. She couldn’t be going crazy. Stop! Her conscious voice pushed her out of the thought. It would do no good to look back, or to dread the future. She knew the cause of the dream. As they were preparing to leave yesterday afternoon, they had been caught in conversation with their landlady. They were handing over their extra keys, and Noel had presented the older woman with the cake she had baked, the decadent lemony icing whipped in stiff peaks on the top. Mrs. Chambers had actually had tears in her eyes when she looked at the present and told them how much she would miss them. And hadn’t she mentioned how much her Ted had loved that kind of cake. Ted. Claire frowned as she remembered Mrs. Chambers showing them the photo of her long dead son, killed during the Vietnam War. The photo had stood in a place of honor on the little table by the front door, framed in heavy wood and accented by a stiffly folded United States flag in its own frame, and a little faded prayer card, undoubtedly from his funeral. In the photo, he had been dressed in a full uniform, his young face so solemn, his posture stiff and formal. Claire smiled bitterly. Apparently, the story had more of an effect than she had thought. She suspected it had been that face she had seen in the dream last night. And that was why she had the dream. She felt her shoulders slump with relief. Mystery solved, no problem. No problem! Her mind insisted, and she deliberately directed her thoughts to her task at hand.
By 2:00 all their clothes were stuffed in bags and boxes, and the last of the dishes had been washed and packed. Amy was standing in the middle of the living room, taping up the last of the boxes. It reminded Claire of all the times she and Amy had packed all their belongings at the end of the school year when they had lived in the dorm. They had shared a room for two years, and the effort it had taken to dismantle their décor had been a challenge. But they had enjoyed their time together, eating at the cafeteria, dining on Pop-Tarts for breakfast, having all night study sessions, participating in the annual haunted dorm for Halloween, and silly girl discussions after lights out, dreaming dreams of futures full of potential. Dorm life had been fun, but they had both been ready to move to something off campus as they came closer to graduation. Amy had moved into a tiny house in the Highlands area for the last year of school, just blocks from Claire’s old bookstore home. However, they still remained close since she came around the apartment frequently for movie nights and Chinese food. Her own house was stuffed to overflowing with people on any given night, her current roommates the social kind, and she liked to visit the relative peace in Claire’s place. On other nights, Claire and Noel enjoyed heading out the Highlands to meet with Amy and visit one of dozens of fabulous restaurants. They had spent many carefree evenings walking the sidewalks, visiting the little shops, and grabbing hot strong coffee from the cozy coffee shops. Claire knew they would miss that part of their old life.
In the doorway, Claire saw Ben in the parking lot in front of the apartment and sighed with relief. Ben made the fourth of the moving group, a sturdy figure that could be trusted for lifting and additional muscle. He slammed the door closed on his battered truck and hurried up the stairs to the apartment, his face set and distracted. As the only one with a truck, he was the designated driver for most of the furnishings.
“Well, I’m parked illegally so we’d better get this going,” he said, propping the door open, hurried and talking fast. Parking was usually street side, and a rare commodity in Old Louisville.
“We’re ready and packed,” Claire responded, shoving one of the boxes toward the door.
“Good, just let us know what stays and what goes,” he responded, scooping up one of the biggest boxes.
“Most of the furniture can stay; it belongs here, but we’ll take the things we brought,” Claire assured him.
“I’ll get the big ones, you all can start carrying out the smaller boxes once we’ve got these loaded,” Ben declared.
Noel and Claire nodded obediently and dragged the few pieces of furniture they owned closer to the front door as Amy taped the final box of dishes and linens.
Claire watched from the doorway as Ben began loading the larger pieces in the truck and grinned as Noel hurried to help. Her constant flirting was a joke within their little group, but Claire firmly believed it was more. Noel might have tried to be tough, but Claire had known her long enough not to be fooled.
“He’s my hubby-to-be,” Noel often stated. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“You’ve known him for years and haven’t been on a single date. How do you figure this romance is supposed to work?” Claire had asked pointedly.
“It just will.” Noel insisted and laughed at herself. Despite the teasing tone, she had once admitted to Claire she had purposely consulted her palm reader and psychic, and she claimed they agreed with her supposition. “It will only be a matter of time,” she said confidently, “and Ben will be mine.”
Claire wasn’t sure about how Ben felt about the situation, but he certainly never seemed put out when Noel smiled at him and gave him inviting glances. It wasn’t any of her business either, so she dismissed it.
“I think you girls have almost as much stuff in this apartment as I do in my whole house,” Ben complained as he took a third trip out to the truck.
Ben had just finished remodeling the little house he bought in Middletown, a suburb cozied up to the larger town of Louisville, and it was charming, especially for a single guy’s lair. Claire and Noel had helped him with the painting and decorating and knew the place inside and out. It was a comfortable Cape Cod with two bedrooms upstairs and one down, a solid brick buildi
ng that had suffered through two floods and one tornado in its almost 50-year history. When the threat of eviction had first come up, Ben had offered the house to the two girls as a place to stay temporarily.
Claire had flatly, but graciously, refused. “We can’t do that to you,” she had said, smiling to take away any sting. “You don’t want a couple of girls cluttering up your new space, and besides, we’re going to find something soon.” And Claire had believed that at the time. It had just taken them longer to find their new home, but now that they were moving, it appears her prediction was coming true.
Noel hadn’t been as happy with Claire’s refusal. “We could just stay with Ben for a few weeks,” she had argued while outside of Ben’s earshot.
“Not a good idea,” Claire had replied, and her expression told Noel her mind was made up. Noel had been disappointed, but Claire had known it would secretly kill Noel to be so close to Ben all the time and have no chance at a romance. It might have looked like casual flirting to someone who didn’t know the people involved, but Claire knew better.
Sighing, Claire moved into her bedroom and picked up a box. It was time to finish loading the cars. Without their colorful decorations and homey touches, the apartment looked truly abandoned. The yellowed linoleum, the stained walls, the cracked ceilings were all shown in the brutal light of day. Claire wondered if they would eventually open the apartment back up to the rest of the house as it had originally been designed. They would need new flooring, new paint, new bathroom fixtures; who she was kidding, they would need to gut the entire thing to make it really livable. But the way it was now, it was just sad. The feeling of grief that welled up in Claire far out measured the lonely look of the apartment. It was as though she was soaking in the emotions of someone else. And perhaps she was. This had at one time been a home, but events – life – had turned it into more of a house, a business, a place to stay. Maybe what it needed was a heart again.
Talitha Page 3
