Chapter 30
Thirty
By the time the end of July rolled around, there was no question that Matthew would be joining Whitney for the family weekend at their lake house. Their relationship deepened every time they got together. He’d never met someone who made him feel so special, and he found that his thoughts were filled with wondering how he could please her. Whitney understood what motivated him, and she didn’t question when he did a project just because it felt right, even if there was no financial gain to be made.
Matthew couldn’t wait for him and Whitney to fly down to Florida in October to spend time with Skip and his bride-to-be. He looked forward to being his best man and didn’t mind one bit telling Skip he was right about the girl who’d lost the bracelet. It was meant to be, just like he’d said.
Matthew knocked and walked inside Whitney’s condo. “You here?”
She came flying out of the bedroom. “Yep.” They embraced, and he picked her up, spinning her around like people did in the movies. It was a little harder to do than it looked on television.
It made her giggle, though, and he’d do anything to hear that sound.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“My bags are by the door. We’ll install the mural, drive to Uncle Blake’s for a quick visit, then to the lake house. Are you ready?”
“So ready.” He pulled her into his arms. “I have fallen completely in love with you. Do you know that?”
She practically melted into his arms. “I was really hoping you were feeling it too.”
He kissed her, leaving her breathless.
“My bag is already in the truck. Are we ready?” He picked up her bags.
“There’s one more thing I need to say. I do love you too.”
“I really like the way this trip is starting.” They drove over to William and Carina’s house to work on the surprise for Chloe.
Allie, Chloe’s nanny, was sitting on the front porch when Matthew pulled into the driveway.
“Thanks for helping us with the surprise,” Whitney said as they approached.
“I think I’m as excited as y’all are.” She jumped to her feet.
“Impossible.”
Matthew got the mural out of the truck, and they took it inside.
It was a little tricky because it was so big, but Allie helped and the three of them made quick work of it.
For the most part, it was up. Matthew smoothed the last of the bubbles while Allie and Whitney stepped back to look at it from the doorway.
“It’s perfect. It looks like we painted it in record time,” Whitney said. “Matthew, I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you for making this happen.”
“I’ll think of something,” he said with a wink.
“Wow. Chloe is going to go bonkers.” Allie moved forward, kneeling to see it from Chloe’s worldview. “The little bunny in the flower bed, ladybugs, and butterflies. It all seems so real.”
“It looks like we could walk right into that picture and climb into the tree fort, doesn’t it?” said Whitney.
Matthew stood and took a critical look. “That was the plan.”
Whitney pointed out the measuring stick tied in with the ladder up the tree. “Look, Allie. They can mark Chloe’s growth on that with a Sharpie. Isn’t that a clever idea?”
“Yes,” Allie agreed. “She’s already growing so fast.”
“Thanks for sticking around to help. When are you coming to the lake?”
“Not until tomorrow. I have plans with some friends who are visiting from out-of-town tonight.”
“That’ll be fun.”
“I think we’re done here.” Matthew moved away from the wall.
“It completely changes this room.” Whitney scooted the rocking chair back into place.
“Don’t worry about that stuff,” Allie said. “I’ll arrange everything back to how we had it. It’s mostly toys, anyway.”
Whitney couldn’t believe how perfect it was. “There are so many details. I’m still seeing things I hadn’t noticed. I love the little bluebird in the tree. I love…” She spun away, pressing her lips together, her eyes glossy. “I love it all.”
The look in her eyes whispered to his in a silent language that required no words, and his heart could easily translate.
“Do you see anything else about the tree that you like?” he asked.
“Did you hide something?” She tiptoed, trying to look from every angle.
“You know me. I like to tuck things into my work that are special.”
“Is your dad in here somewhere?”
“No, but if I’d thought it wouldn’t have scared little Chloe, he would’ve been. It’s something else.”
She walked closer, then stepped over to the side.
“Need a clue?”
“I think so.”
He pointed to a fancy birdhouse.
Whitney recognized the outline immediately, “It’s shaped like the Maymont mansion. I love it.”
“There’s more,” he said. “See the shingles?”
“Are those our initials inside a heart?”
“Yes, so you’ll always know that I love you, and you feel like home to me.”
She clasped her hands in front of her face, her eyes tearing. She kissed him on the lips. “Home, sweet home.”
“Don’t cry. It was supposed to make you happy.”
She pointed to the tear on her cheek. “This is happy.”
He pulled her into his arms. “And it keeps getting better.”
It did. She rested her cheek on his chest, and they took a quiet moment before cleaning up the mess and getting back on the road.
It was about a three-hour drive to the house on Smith Mountain Lake, but Whitney’s Uncle Blake only lived about forty-five minutes from the lake house.
The ride was nice with everything in bloom, and the air smelled fresh. “It’s really pretty up here,” Matthew said. “I’d love to come do some painting up here sometime.”
“We could do that. There’s an apartment over the barn. I used to stay there all the time. The view of the mountains is gorgeous from there.” Whitney slipped her shoes back on. “Don’t miss the turn. It’s right around this bend. You’ll see the curvy driveway, but the house sits way back.”
He pulled in, gravel crunching under his tires. “We’re almost there.”
Matthew parked and got out of the car to stretch.
“I’m so excited to be here.” Whitney walked over and took Matthew’s hand.
“I bet the nights out here are as dark as can be. Wouldn’t it be great on a starry night?”
“What is it you always say?” She looked into his eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Don’t tempt me with a good time?”
“Yeah. I do.” He bumped his shoulder to hers and pulled her hand in closer.
“Come on. I can’t wait for you to meet my Uncle Blake.”
He followed her inside, and Whitney ran over to her uncle. The weathered man sat in a wheelchair, a crocheted blanket over his legs.
“You made it. My precious girl.” Uncle Blake looked tired and fragile. “It’s good to see you.”
“I’m sorry it’s been so long.”
He looked past Whitney toward Matthew.
“Hello, sir. I’m Matthew. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Uncle Blake nodded slowly, his hand shaking as he reached for Whitney’s hand. “Is this what has kept you away?”
“Only lately,” she said with a giggle. “Him and work, of course.”
“Work.” He shook his head. “Even as a little girl she was a worker. Headstrong and eager to meet the goal no matter what it was,” Uncle Blake said. His words were slow, and he faltered, but eventually got them out. “Best stall mucker I ever had. She out-cowboyed the paid help.”
“Well, how about that. Doesn’t really surprise me about her,” Matthew said.
“She’s a smart girl. Special. You do right by her.”
“I intend to,” Matthew said.
“Have a seat.” Blake pointed to a chair next to a fireplace that didn’t look like it had been used in a long time.
Matthew walked toward the chair but was drawn to the pictures on the mantel. Pictures of Whitney and William as children.”
“They loved this place,” Uncle Blake said. “And I loved having them here. I’m their father’s brother, but older by more than ten years.”
“Whitney shared with me how special her time with you is to her.” Matthew admired the thought of someone having a childhood with the freedom to just be a kid. He’d been dealt a different hand with Mom leaving and then losing Dad while Matthew was still in his teens.
“What do you think about being out in the country?” Uncle Blake might be slowing down, but he knew what he wanted to say.
Matthew responded from the heart. “You have a beautiful place out here, sir. First thing I noticed was no city lights. I bet it feels like you can grab handfuls of stars in this sky at night.”
“You can.”
“It’s good for the soul, isn’t it?” Matthew felt that about nature in general, even in the city.
Whitney looked a little sad. He could imagine the frail man sitting there today used to be a strapping, able body with authority and a million stories to tell.
They visited with Uncle Blake for an hour, and in that time, the man fell asleep at least a half dozen times. Sometimes he didn’t even seem to realize it. When he fell asleep again, Whitney grabbed Matthew’s hand. “Let’s go see the barn. I want to show you the stables. Maybe he’ll be awake by the time we get back.”
The path to the barn was up a hill.
“It’s farther than it looks,” Matthew said.
“Yeah, I used to walk this path like it was nothing. I couldn’t wait to get back to see the horses.”
The big red barn had huge sliding doors on the front. Whitney approached one door and slid it open. She walked inside. “It’s so different with no animals in here.” She kicked her feet through some old shavings that had been pushed to the side in the alley. “Used to be you would walk in here, and the horses would welcome you. They’d snort and nicker.”
“You really loved it.”
“I did.”
“Ever think about having a place like this? Away from the city?”
“Sometimes I dream about it.” She shrugged. “Over here is where Goldy stayed.” She pointed to the wooden plaque with GOLDY etched into it. “Uncle Blake made that. I painted the engraved part gold.”
“Well done. And you said you couldn’t paint.” He slung his arm around her waist. “Holding out on me?”
She described every horse that had been in every stall and then they climbed the stairs to the loft. “Up here is where the apartment is.”
Matthew stayed right behind her.
She opened the door, and you’d have never known the apartment was in the top of a barn from the inside. The walls were finished as nicely as the sheetrock in his place, and the windows were huge.
“The light in here is amazing,” he commented.
“Yeah, I guess it is. Hadn’t ever really paid much attention to that. Look out this way. I always loved this view.”
“Wow. I’d love to come and paint that view someday.”
“We can. Anytime you want. I’d really like to spend more time with Uncle Blake. I’ve been away too long. I didn’t realize he’d declined so quickly.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I know that must be hard. I’d love to come back with you, but I’ll say this: you don’t get time back. Spend as much as you can while you have the chance. Relive those memories. Share the laughs. They won’t be there forever.”
Whitney brushed a tear away. “You’re right. I miss coming here. I’ve let work keep me from coming as often as I should. I’m going to change that.”
“Good.”
“I hope you will come with me sometimes, at least when you’re not too busy.”
“I will. I’d like that,” he said.
“William preferred going to the lake with my parents. I always begged to be dropped off here.”
“Sounds like you’ve got some pretty great memories here,” he said as they strolled back up to the house to see if Uncle Blake was still asleep. “We’ll come back often,” Matthew promised.
Whitney squeezed his arm.
He wanted nothing more than to please her, and he’d enjoyed the visit too.
When they walked inside, Whitney called out, “Uncle Blake? Are you awake?”
“Of course, I’m awake,” he said. “Where did you go?”
“Your niece gave me a tour of the stables and barn,” Matthew said. “I noticed the old carriages. You used to drive your horses?”
“I did. Those carriages are older than you, boy.”
“I could tell,” Matthew said. “I used to love looking at the collection of old carriages at Maymont.”
“I’ve seen them.” In nodding, his whole body rocked forward. “The mansion and gardens. It was a beautiful estate. I knew people there. Special place.”
“This is a special place too. Whitney talks about how much her time with you on your farm has meant to her.”
“She’s like a daughter to me. If I’d been blessed with one.” He pointed a crooked finger at Whitney. “That’s my girl.”
Whitney held back a tear.
“You take care of my girl.” His hand shook. “I… I… was an attorney too. A long time ago,” Uncle Blake said.
“He handled some huge cases for the firm,” she bragged. “He was also one of the few who did pro bono cases, which used to really tick off the big guys.”
“Pffttt.” Uncle Blake threw his hand up. “Good for nothing, money hungry men is all they were. Some things are more important than money. Family, for one. Fighting for what’s right, and that’s not always popular.”
“Yes, sir.” Matthew liked Uncle Blake’s way of thinking.
Something flashed in Uncle Blake’s gaze. He sat there, his mouth hanging as he fought for the right words. Finally he looked him square in the eye. “Was your father the architect at Maymont?”
Whitney and Matthew looked at one another. She shrugged, not knowing how he’d known.
“He was.”
“I recognize you. You look like… just… like your father.” He let out a breath. “I wrote up your patent papers. You’re the McMahon boy.”
Matthew dropped to a squat. “Yes, sir. I am. You were the attorney we worked with? I was only nineteen. You did all the paperwork right at our kitchen table because dad couldn’t get around.”
“That was me. Your father was very proud of you.” Uncle Blake pressed his hands on the arms of his wheelchair. “Had no idea how awful it was to not be able to get up and move around back then.”
Matthew touched Blake’s arm. “Yes sir. It’s a tough road. Thank you, sir. Your work on that patent helped me save others from accidents like my father experienced.”
“I just pushed paper around and helped your dad connect some dots.” Uncle Blake leaned forward, then groaned as he leaned closer to Whitney. “He patented a design for a safer scaffolding system after his father’s accident. Did he tell you that?” Uncle Blake reached for a cup of water next to him.
“No. I don’t think so. I haven’t heard about this,” she said, while helping him steady his cup so he could take a sip. She looked over at Matthew and shrugged.
“See. Good man. Not a bragger.” And then Uncle Blake dropped out again.
“What is he talking about?” Whitney asked. “Did he really help you with a patent?”
“He did. Most important work I will have ever done in this lifetime.” Matthew stood. “I’m going to go get something from my truck.”
“Okay.” Whitney watched him leave.
When Matthew walked back into the room Uncle Blake was awake again.
“Wondered where you disappeared to,” he said.
“Sir. I’d really be honored if you’d accept this as a gift.” He turned the painting around.
“That looks like Goldy!” Uncle Blake turned and looked to Whitney for confirmation.
“I thought the same thing when I saw that painting in the gallery,” she said.
“I actually planned to give this to you, Whitney, but I think it would be perfect here over the mantel. What do you think, Blake?” Matthew carried it over and sat it on the mantel.
“I’d enjoy that very much. Whitney can have it when I’m gone.”
“This painting was last in the York Shore Gallery,” Matthew explained. “Now, you probably never heard of that, but I’m quite certain a man like you probably crossed paths with Barney and Bess Blackwell. They were quite prominent in horse racing for a while.”
“I know them.”
“I thought you might. Well, Barney has an art gallery now, and this painting was on display there. Whitney said it reminded her of riding here on your farm.” Matthew shrugged. “I kind of feel like this picture connects all three of us. Well, four if you count Goldy.”
Uncle Blake looked over at Whitney. “I like him.”
“Me too.” Her cheeks reddened.
“You? Painted this?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, and I’d be honored if you’d enjoy it.”
“I will. Every day.” Uncle Blake looked at them both for a long moment. “There is something special between you two.”
“Yes sir.” Matthew lifted his chin in a confident way that filled Whitney with pride.
“So. Much. Joy.” Uncle Blake turned to Whitney. “He’s a good one. Keep him around.”
“I fully intend to,” Whitney said, and Matthew felt about ten feet tall right then.
Uncle Blake tapped a crooked finger to his temple. “That is meant to be. Trust me. An old man knows things.”