by E. Groat
Garth’s good-natured dismissal of Zoe and the drawings did not sway her enthusiasm. She simply scooped up the papers and continued, engaging Josh in her verbal tour of the home and all its amenities. She took his arm and led him toward the door. Josh looked helplessly over his shoulder toward Garth, who merely shrugged and grinned at him.
“Obviously, these contracts do not have to be signed today,” Josh said, taking a shot at freedom.
“No, go.” Zoe ushered him out the door in a whirlwind of house talk. Garth immediately followed, hoping Norm wouldn’t run him over with the dozer for being late.
Josh had no idea he was heading for Suffolk that afternoon, but Zoe felt he had to see the house since he would be drawing up the contract and offer. As usual, the lady always seemed to get her way.
“Call Tiffany,” he begged, wanting to tell his ever-faithful secretary that he was taking the day off. Josh knew that day’s calendar was not all that full, and he was sure Tiffany and his new assistant, Henry Rath, could handle what little there was. This past year had brought more business than Josh and his two associate lawyers could handle. His need for a new assistant and associate could not be ignored. Henry joined about two months ago, and over that time, proved himself a valuable asset.
Josh had always known his own knowledge of criminal law was restricted, but Henry filled that need in the Lawton firm. Until Beckman’s death and the incarceration of the boys, murder was something Josh had never dealt with in his law firm. He knew that were it not for the “Beckman Tapes,” Josh would have been in over his head if Beckman’s murder had gone to trial.
He was lucky that Sullivan, the hot-dog prosecutor, did not belabor the loss of the case. Josh’s initial respect for the young man was heightened, so much so that he offered Sullivan the job before Henry. Sullivan declined, and rightly so, as much would be heard of this young man in the years to come. After seeing the videos and reviewing the connections between Beckman and the school, Sullivan made the Beckman case go away. The headlines and newsworthiness soon faded, and Josh was grateful.
“All right,” he said, again focusing his full attention on Zoe. “Let’s go see this house you are so crazy about. We’ll stop off and see my mother and the boys while we’re there.”
Zoe felt this was an added treat. Zoe and Garth had met Josh’s mother and the boys in June, soon after Josh took over the responsibilities of the Erskine Foundation. Zoe felt Rachel was a delightful woman.
“Wonderful,” she chimed in, looking at Josh intently, “Do you think she might have some of those wonderful baked goods on hand?”
“She always does,” he responded. “In fact, I’ll call ahead, and we’ll have a late lunch there. She will love it. I should have set her up in the restaurant business years ago.”
His new black Mercedes — compliments of the Beckman Foundation — headed north until it was lost in a sea of October color on the back roads of Suffolk County. Their journey soon brought them to an old Tudor home with massive wood doors and leaded-glass windows. Huge lion-head doorknockers stared somberly down at them. They found the realtor’s combination lock open, as Zoe had called the agent earlier. She apologized for not being able to be there, but assured Zoe that the house would be open when they arrived, considering the hefty deposit Zoe had made. Zoe promised all doors would be locked when they left. The giant doors squeaked loudly as they entered.
“Why did I know they would do that?” Josh said in a comical whisper.
Zoe stared at him coldly, chiding him with her eyes. And there it was, cobwebs and all. They found themselves standing in the huge foyer of a house with marble flooring, a winding staircase, massive hand-hewn beams, and a garish cherub-covered chandelier hanging above them.
“You’ve brought me up here for my opinion?” Josh asked. “You’ve got to be kidding. Are you sure we’re not on an old Abbott and Costello set? I mean, where are the coffins? The rattling bones, the ghostly apparitions — hell, where’s Dracula?”
“All right!” she boomed, getting to the point of exasperation with his good-natured humor. “You’re worse than Garth. Now stop this nonsense, and really take a look around.”
Josh tried to overcome his obvious amusement, because the slight tinge of anger in her face could not be denied. “All right,” he said, standing chastened with his head bowed. “Let’s see the rest of this gruesome thing.”
“Come,” she said in a low, breathy voice. “Let me show you to the drawing room.”
Raising her arms straight out, walking slowly and deliberately as if in a trance, she guided him through two more large, oak-paneled doors, showing him that she was not totally without humor about the place. She challenged him to look around with an open mind, and then give her his opinion. Josh did just that.
Despite the cobwebs, dust, and obvious disarray and misuse of the old place, the high October sun shone brightly through the beveled and leaded glass windows that reached proudly from floor to ceiling. The light gave the house a hallowed cathedral affect. The hardwood floors softened when awash in sunlight, and the huge, gray-rock fireplace took center stage as the focal point of the entire room. With every movement of the sun, the light was left to its own devices — bouncing off the walls and showcasing the intricate detail of the hand-carved crown molding.
Josh found himself sitting on the huge hearth, actually enjoying the true feel of the room. The vastness of the space was not overwhelming. Indeed, it had a warmth and coziness, a protectiveness that was almost sacrosanct. Sitting down beside him, Zoe saw that he was visibly impressed.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered, gently interrupting Josh’s own awestruck feelings for the room. “There are no ghosts here. And if there are, they have guardian angels for roommates.”
“You’re right,” he admitted. “There is a feeling here. A good feeling.”
“Come on, let me show you the rest.”
Despite its massive appearance, the house was not all that large, about 3,200 square feet. The living room and dining room were also impressive, though they lacked the strangely comforting feeling of the drawing room.
The kitchen, however, was a different story. The most recent owner, a family trust, had not felt the need to renovate. The sink was a deep double bowl made of concrete, and the faucets had exposed copper piping, topped by 1920s-style handles with small porcelain circles that bore the initials for hot and cold. When the water was turned on, the pipes sounded their displeasure. The counter was a real butcher block, which was not so bad, though rather unsanitary. It was the only thing that reeked of any charm. Everything else just reeked. There was very little cabinet space, and the few cabinets it had were old, painted, and ugly. An avocado-green dishwasher was installed randomly some thirty-odd years ago. Worn, red-brick-pattern linoleum framed the whole awful scene. Josh looked at Zoe, who somehow seemed oblivious to all this.
“Zoe?” His voice was one of resignation, and he asked almost reluctantly. “Are you sure you are ready for this handful of headaches? Do you realize what a money pit this is? What about heating and cooling, and a little thing called insulation? Have you checked these windows out?”
“Everything is original, Josh. There is no central air, and the furnace is coal.”
“Coal? You’ve got to be kidding.” He found himself repeating this phrase several times throughout the remainder of the tour. “How long has this white elephant been on the market?”
“Almost six years,” she said, leading him down the deep, dark stairs to the basement.
“I was right, this is a dungeon,” he said, zeroing in on the barred door immediately in front of him.
“Don’t be silly, that’s the wine cellar.”
Actually, the area was not that large. Its walls and floors were made of large, gray stones that looked as solid as the day they were set. Over in the corner, more ancient plumbing extruded from what seemed to be the water heater. Not too far from this stood the biggest furnace Josh had ever seen. It overwhelmed the
small area where they were standing. His attention, however, seemed directed to the small alcove behind the barred door. Here he felt a history of people who enjoyed the good life.
“Isn’t it great?” Zoe broke into his preoccupied examination of the shelves and giant, stone-carved benches. The benches seemed to be afterthoughts of some overzealous stonecutter, who made this charming retreat from what could have been a very boring, but functional, room. “Come on,” she goaded, “we still have more to see.”
Moving quickly through the kitchen, she pulled him by the sleeve through old, French-style doors located on the far end of the dining room. With this childlike gesture, they were transported through the looking glass. They stood like storybook drawings, gazing at the giant pines and spruce that surrounded this magical glade. Sun fell through voluminous boughs, throwing splinters of sunlight to dance off great polished stones and careening waters. These were natural, spring-fed waters of which some creative gardener or landscape artist took full advantage, leaving this botanical legacy of wonderment.
They viewed all this enchantment from an elongated patio made of quarried slate, colored in hues of gray and blue that spilled down craggy steps onto a carpet of emerald-green ground. Weeds did not seem to exist in this mystical arena. They both stood still in mute appreciation for several minutes, experiencing their Shangri-La surroundings. As if on cue, a spotted fawn emerged from the woods to disturb their reverie.
“I want this place,” Zoe whispered. “It’s been waiting for me. Come on.”
They both retreated to the French doors, and Josh seemed almost dazed.
“I feel like I just fell out of a Disney movie.”
“So, what do you think?” Zoe looked blissfully up at him, looking for his approval.
“All right, it’s great, but what about the money pit part? What about the roof? Does it leak? I noticed some rather suspicious spots on the ceiling. What about the plumbing and the electric? And the kitchen? I haven’t even seen the bathrooms. There are bathrooms, aren’t there?”
“Oh, stop fretting. You sound like an old maid aunt. The house is basically sound, and Garth can do anything.”
Garth’s name brought Josh tumbling back to reality. For the last several hours, he had been caught up in Zoe’s excitement. He felt like a kid exploring an old house with his best friend. But Zoe was not his best friend. Over the past year, Garth had taken that role. A loyalty and devotion had developed that neither man had expected. Zoe was more to him; this he could not deny. He watched her ascend the stairs, looking back at him, prompting him to follow. Smiling brightly at her, he shoved aside thoughts and feelings he wished he didn’t have to deal with. The tour was almost over, and Josh was thankful.
Chapter 34
Beckman’s vast fortune and his assets were being put to good use. Josh made sure, however, that Beckman’s name was not associated with any good deeds, foundations, or trusts. It was not within Josh’s soul to have that name remembered and honored. Still, huge amounts of his money were given to funds to fight child abuse and homelessness, and Josh meticulously monitored them to see that the money was put to good use.
Lech, Nicky, and Peter were set—they had become part of the Lawton family, blending in neatly with the aunts, uncles, and cousins. Josh thought of them as his own and was working on adoption, but his mother’s loving care and attention were enough until then. Visits to his mother became more frequent. Trying to be a weekend father was something new to Josh. He liked it.
* * *
It was the second week of October, and Suffolk County’s celebrated autumn season did not disappoint in its maddening charm of fall colors. The intoxication of the season brought even the most dedicated couch potato outdoors. The outside air harbored the chill of the winter to come, but the warmth of the autumn sun beckoned a celebration.
Josh and his mother had planned one of their famous barbeques, and the time was ripe for gaiety. Years before, people came from miles to be hosted by the Lawtons. Josh remembered well how, as a child, he and his siblings were part of their parents’ hospitality. The Lawton barbeque was almost an annual event, looked forward to by half of Suffolk County. After his father’s death, the event waned, as his mother had no heart for hosting such gatherings without her husband.
With the addition of the children, however, the old mansion took on a new life. Even the small stable below the house, where Josh had a pony as a child, enjoyed new life with a welcome addition — a fragile-faced beauty called Khali. After the incident with Garth, Riza was going to put the horse down. Garth would have none of it, and asked for the horse as a gift, to deal with at his pleasure. His pleasure was knowing a friend named Josh who had a stable, and three children who would love Khali.
All in all, Josh’s life was taking on a new direction, one as fresh and clean as the October sky on this Sunday. He helped his mother guide and direct all manner of caterers, florists, and a fellow with a Spanish guitar. The unmistakable clink of horseshoes, and shrieks from volleyball players, echoed throughout the day. Josh bonded with his family, met new neighbors, and renewed old acquaintances with the surrounding community. Harry showed up with Josh’s secretary, Tiffany. Father Fitzhugh brought a small busload of kids. John Calhern came bearing gifts of the finest wine. New faces and old came meandering in throughout the day. Dr. Mellon, Norm, many of the investors in Garth’s projects who were finally seeing their hopes become a reality. Klaus and Ms. Potter made an appearance, both acting like schoolchildren. The day was a rousing success for all involved.
There was a tinge of sadness, or perhaps envy, when Josh saw Garth and Zoe so happy and so in love.
“Well, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Avery. How are my soon-to-be new neighbors?”
They all embraced warmly and set about idle conversation throughout the day.
“Oh Josh,” Zoe offered, “I hope you don’t mind. My cousin is in town and will be staying with us for a week. She is thinking of relocating. I invited her to your outing today. I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Of course, the more the merrier.”
“In fact,” Zoe interrupted, “there she is now.”
Josh turned, and was greeted by a woman with the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever encountered. At her feet, practically tripping over her ears, was an Irish setter puppy.
“Tell me,” Josh thought. “Does life get any better than this? We’ll see.”
