by Kira Blakely
“I appreciate that, Finn, but I don’t think I belong in fancy clothes, if you get my drift. They just don’t feel normal to me.”
He nodded. “Okay, I see where you’re going now. I hear you telling me that you are a more casual person, is that right?”
“I guess that’s one way you could put it,” I agreed. “Look, I don’t have any clothes of my own, and we both know I don’t have any money, so what if we make a deal? Why don’t you let me pick a few outfits from what you bought, some of the jeans and sweaters, for example, and a few other little things and you have the rest of it sent back. We’ll call it a loan and when I get on my feet, I’ll pay you back. Can we do that?”
“There’s no need…” he started to say, but I cut him off quickly.
“There is for me. I do have some pride, you know,” I pointed out and that seemed to get the message across.
“If that makes you feel better, so be it,” he replied and then looked out over the balcony railing. “As much as I love your company, it’s been a rough day. I’m wondering if you would excuse me? I’d like to hit the hay.”
“Of course, you must be exhausted. Thank you for coming to have dinner with me. I like being with you. And besides, Pierre would’ve killed someone if you hadn’t showed up to try his cooking. He’s been trying very hard to impress you.”
“I’ll remember that and say something nice on my way out. You going to stay out here?”
“Yes, I think so, for a couple of minutes. You go on and I’ll be in shortly. Good night.”
Finn stood up and walked over to my chair, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead. Before he could stand upright, my arms went upward of their own volition, wrapping around his neck and pulling his face down toward mine.
I looked into his eyes for a moment and saw sadness there. I wanted to make it better. I kissed him, for a long time, in fact. His arms came down and he physically lifted me out of the chair and held me against himself. I could feel the tingles in my stomach, the same way I had in the car that day when we were both naked and cold. The tingles felt much better than the cold, but I would’ve endured that again if it meant being close to him in that way.
“Good night, Finn,” I whispered.
“Sleep well,” he whispered back and left me there.
I watched through the patio doors and saw him pause as he passed the kitchen. While I couldn’t make out what he was saying, I knew he was telling Pierre how wonderful dinner had been. I was glad he had remembered to do so. It would make Pierre so much easier to live with in the morning.
I sat back down in my chair and looked up to the stars.
The door slid open and there stood Pierre, a mug in his hand. “Mr. Finn tells me you would like some hot chocolate,” he said and handed me the mug. I knew that Finn must have been diplomatic because Pierre did not seem to be upset in the least.
“It was a delicious dinner, Pierre,” I complimented him. He grinned broadly and went back inside. When I finished the chocolate, I followed him indoors and went straight to bed.
Mary was nowhere to be seen. I think she had already gotten the message that her days were limited. I was sorry for her sake, but she was just too cold for me to get close to. Maybe it was because she was a nurse; they often had to become cold to deal with very ill patients and still do their job. That’s how I also figured I hadn’t been a nurse. I was far too warmhearted to see someone hurt.
Chapter 17
Finn
One of the first things I’d done, as the money began to accumulate, was to fulfill my dream of owning a home that overlooked Lake Michigan. When the time had come, I had spent weeks looking at properties with a number of different agents. It was a Saturday afternoon when I finally found the right one.
It was a Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired multilevel house, constructed primarily with glass to take advantage of the views. It was one of the few areas that permitted privatizing the beach access. The house sat on the bluff, proud and possessive of the waters that reached toward it below. It had roughly a half-mile of water frontage, and on either side lay private state lands, the property of Wisconsin, and therefore, unbuildable. It was my own private paradise.
Elspeth and I began our drive up the coast on Friday evening, after the rush-hour had subsided. The caretaker had been notified we were coming, per Leigh’s instructions. We arrived just as the sun was setting on the front side of the house. The glass walls had been positioned so that sunsets shot through the high ceilings, providing a golden light and again from the east in the morning. In my opinion, it was the most beautiful property along the Wisconsin lakeshore.
Although it was highly contemporary from the outside, the inside had been remodeled per my instructions. I had resisted the tacky tourist nautical theme in favor of soft colors and comfortable, overstuffed furnishings — something seldom found in typical Frank Lloyd Wright properties.
There were five bedrooms, each with their own private bath, as well as an additional guest bath on each floor. The great room space stretched from the front to the back of the house, putting the kitchen and my office in wings at either end of the building. The bedrooms were all relegated to the upper floor where the best views were available.
In the lower walkout level were the entertaining spaces. There was a massive bar with a wine cellar, a game room with a pool table, retro pinball machines, state-of-the-art three-dimensional computer games, and shelves filled with puzzles and other board games.
There was a small, single-basket gymnasium and next to it was a workout area with the latest gym equipment. A sauna and whirlpool area stepped down to the infinity pool that, although under a glass dome, was positioned so that it didn’t block views of the lake and yet swimmers could watch the boats skim by.
At the opposite end of the lower level was a home theater where the seating could recline flat if so desired. It was definitely a bachelor’s house, but for now, it was for Elspeth and me to enjoy alone.
The kitchen had been stocked and the walk-in freezer filled. I had arranged for dinners to be prepared at a nearby five-star restaurant and delivered promptly at eight each evening. I figured that Elspeth and I could look after ourselves for breakfast and lunch. I wanted to spend as much private time with her as possible, and the idea of becoming a hermit was not altogether unpleasant.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked as we set our luggage down in the foyer.
“It looks nice from here,” she ventured cautiously. “Of course, I’ve only seen a small part of it, but I’m sure it will be spectacular in the morning light. Where is my room?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
“I have my own, right?”
“Just like I promised.” I nodded toward the glass staircase that accessed the upper level. At the top, I turned to the right and walked to the end of the hall. As we entered the room, a sensor activated a series of dim canister lighting mounted in the ceiling over the glass windows that showcased the lake view.
“This is the master suite. As you can see, there’s a sitting area by the windows and over here, I have a small office area for the days when I need to work from here. There’s a larger office downstairs if I need to meet with people, but it more or less goes to waste. That doorway to your left leads to the walk-in closet and the one to the right goes into the bath. I’ll leave my suitcase here on the bed and show you your room next.”
“I don’t mean to sound picky,” she said, “but I hope I’m not at the other end of the house. I know I told you I didn’t want to share a room with you, but that doesn’t mean that I like sleeping in such a big place on my own.”
“That’s good, because you’ll actually be right next door.” I led the way back into the hall and opened the door to our left. “This is the largest of the guestrooms. I had someone come in and personalize it a bit for you this week. I hope you like it.”
Elspeth walked into the room and her mouth opened. “It’s beautiful, I adore it.”
I had hoped
she would. The caretaker had brought in a local decorator who was used to dealing with high-end clients and she had outdone herself. There was a four-poster white bed covered with a floral comforter and a myriad of ruffled pillows. The fabric was repeated in the drapes and on the upholstered chairs clustered at the window. There was a vanity with the mirror and a blanket chest at the foot of the bed. Although the house was completely climate controlled, there were windows that could be opened on pleasant nights and the lake air could grow quite cool after sundown.
“Your bath is through that door,” I pointed, “and your closet, there. I didn’t want you to feel excluded, so you’ll see there’s a small desk for you over there with a laptop that is now yours.”
She shot me a look of a dubious nature, and I could read her mind. She had it in her head that she was going to pay me back for everything, and the cost of the laptop had now been added to her debit column.
“The laptop is a gift. Don’t say no.”
Elspeth stuck her tongue out at me, and we managed to establish a rapport with that gesture.
“Be careful,” I warned her. “I’m very good with tongues.”
Her mouth snapped shut as she contemplated my suggestive comment.
“I’m going to unpack. Then, I’ll check out the kitchen and make you a bite to eat,” she said in a wifely fashion. That gave me a clue as to what she considered normal. I prayed she wasn’t married to someone.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “After today, our dinners will be delivered each night and you and I can take care of ourselves for breakfast and lunch. You go ahead and get settled, and I’ll just make us a couple of sandwiches. Does that work for you?”
“Works for me,” she echoed and I realized that she was, indeed, much happier in the casual atmosphere of the lake house. I was glad because I liked it there as well.
Elspeth joined me about a half hour later. I’d set two plates on the breakfast bar in the kitchen and was just pouring two glasses of milk when she came in.
“Well, I haven’t seen it all, but maybe we can save that for tomorrow?” she inquired.
“Sure,” I answered quickly. “I want you to think of this place as home. You’re free to wander and do as you please. Open drawers, look in closets, sneak down for milk and cookies at three in the morning. Do whatever you please. If you get scared, you know where my bed is.”
She grimaced but blushed, so I knew she’d been thinking of it as well.
“And you?” she asked. “Are you free to wander, too? As in, coming into my bedroom at all hours or maybe sneaking into the shower with me?”
“I promised I would honor your privacy, and I will. Just know that I don’t lock my doors. If the time comes that you want to open it, you will be welcomed.”
She ate her sandwich quietly, looking around to absorb the nuances of the great room space. While there was a beach theme to it, it could have been equally at home in a forest or on a plain in Texas. It was a masculine space, filled with leather and heavy wood. I’d never planned to share it with a woman. Perhaps that would change, but I would take my time getting there.
“There’s no phone, but you have your cell phone and it gets great coverage here. Naturally, there’s WIFI for the computer and cable for the televisions. I don’t think you’ll find anything wanting. Hey, was there a bathing suit in the things they sent over? There’s a pool downstairs and then the lake this summer.”
She nodded. “Kind of skimpy, but I guess you’ve seen anything I might have to hide,” she added with a grin and I relaxed. Her smiles were rare and enigmatic, but that made them all the more valuable.
“I’ll clean up our plates. Why don’t you go on to bed? Tomorrow I’ll show you around some more and maybe you’d like to see where we can take a boat ride on the lake when the weather warms up. I’ve got a cruiser docked at a nearby marina on one of the channels that leads to the lake. Do you waterski?”
She turned to look at me quizzically.
I finished the words for her. “You don’t know, right?”
She nodded and smiled, and I felt relief that I no longer had to watch my words. She waved goodnight and I watched her beautiful legs ascend the staircase, wishing I would be between them that night.
I’d finished out the week amid a stack of paperwork and last-minute meetings with various business advisors. Jerry had sat in on most of the meetings, so the transition would be relatively painless. At least for the company. I had no idea how I would respond to being out of the rhythm of things. I’d been in it for so long that I had no concept of what a private, relaxed life should be like.
Leigh had been right. Marty had been cremated, and there was no service. I managed to speak to his girlfriend on the phone and she more or less echoed what Leigh had said regarding his family and not having left any final wishes. He’d rented an apartment, so whatever estate he’d left would settle the lease and the balance, I imagined, would go to the state.
The coroner had ruled his death a heart attack—natural causes—but I had some question about that. The company he’d been investigating for me had possible mob ties, and it wouldn’t have been out of the question that they’d had some part to play in his demise. There was nothing to be done about it now, and I’d already made up my mind to pass on trying to acquire it. It wasn’t worth the hassle.
Marty’s death being ruled natural causes gave me some peace of mind about Elspeth and the crazy notion I’d developed with regards to that old movie. Like many entrepreneurs, I had a vivid imagination and it often left me at the side of the mental road. Elspeth had yet to give me any indication that she was anything other than she’d said.
We had met with the shrink together, and I agreed with her impression of him. He was very textbook, had little apparent curiosity and pretty much repeated what Pete had said regarding the likelihood that Elspeth’s memory would return. He did say, however, that he believed her to be from southern Ohio.
He based this on her accent matching that of the natives of that part of the country. While Ohio wasn’t considered part of the South, there was a pocket of population, near the West Virginia border, who had acquired the heavy, melodic drawl. They tended to be middle-class, honest people, relatively free of vices and for the most part, were born and died in the same area.
Apparently, it hadn’t sparked anything for Elspeth, as she said nothing and hadn’t remarked on it since. Perhaps, if things went well, she and I could take a day trip and drive down there at some point.
For now, however, I was greedy and wanted to have her to myself. I knew it was morally wrong to feel so possessive, but as I’d promised, there was a red convertible in the garage with the keys in the ignition. I would give it to her officially in the morning, as well as the checkbook and debit card to an account I’d opened in her name. I wanted her to feel independent.
As the adage goes, if you want something to stay with you, let it go. I hoped the adage held true in Elspeth’s case.
Chapter 18
Elspeth
The sun was blinding and prevented me from my normally slow awakening. It took me a few moments to get acclimated, which was not entirely unexpected since I had no memory of where I’d been, then two bedrooms in quick succession. This time, however, I smiled as the memories flooded back.
I realized there were thick drapes that could close over the floor to ceiling windows and made a note to remember to close them when I went to bed later that night. I liked to wake up slowly in dim light and never before eight in the morning. I wasn’t sure if that meant that I hadn’t lived on a farm or whether I hated the early morning rituals of farm life. Some things about my inclinations just had to be accepted for what they were, no conclusions drawn.
Evidently, Finn was in the habit of sleeping in, too, for he was nowhere to be found downstairs. I went into the kitchen and the lights, also on sensors, ramped up smoothly on. I liked the effect.
I opened the walk-in refrigerator and found an unimaginable supply of food. I
was afraid much of it would go bad before we could eat it. Finn didn’t seem to worry about such things but I did. That was yet another clue.
I decided from that point forward to keep the clues to myself. I didn’t want Finn watching me for reactions to every little thing. It made me feel naked and vulnerable, not to mention that clues were simply that. They weren’t definitions, and my lack of experience could easily misinterpret something.
Arming myself with a carton of eggs and a package of bacon, I found pans neatly arranged in a cupboard near the stove. Soon there were scrambled eggs with bacon, toast with jam, and two hot cups of coffee from the Keurig waiting. Finn must have awakened from the scent of the bacon and timed it perfectly.
“Would you like to eat on the enclosed deck overlooking the lake?” he asked after greeting me good morning.
“I’d love it!” I answered with enthusiasm. We made up two trays and emerged into the mid-morning light of an absolutely gorgeous day.
As we ate, Finn pointed out various landmarks down the coast and we watched a barge headed south, supposedly for the mills in northern Indiana.
“Do they go by all year long?” I asked.
“If the lake doesn’t freeze. It depends on the weather each year, but remember, they’re generally coming from the St. Lawrence or Lake Superior and it definitely freezes up there. So, you rarely see barges in the coldest part of the winter.”
I nodded and began to stack our dishes on the trays.
“I’ll help,” he said and together we cleaned up the kitchen.
“Come with me,” he said when we were done. “I have something to show you.”
I followed him out the front door and he led me to a garage at one end of the house. He pushed a button on a remote and a door opened.
“That’s for you, and no, you won’t pay me back.” He pointed inside the doorway.
