Chapter 2 #2
“Well, a few kids, I guess,” Chase said, pausing and drawing his brows together like he was mentally taking inventory.
“There’s a family a couple doors down got a little boy I’ve seen.
And then there’s Adelaide. She lives in this apartment here.
” He motioned toward the door on the other side of the lobby.
“Her Mamaw June and Papaw Earl have custody. She’s probably about the same age as your son.
Sweet little thing.” He winked at Henry.
“She’s got a headful of curls, too. Y’all could be cousins. ”
He led us past a bank of brass mailboxes on the wall to a set of heavy double doors that opened into an enormous room that looked like it had once been two.
The area had a heaviness to it—the walls were painted deep green and the wood trim, like in the rest of the building, was rich mahogany that gave the impression of decadence and wealth.
A few couches were arranged around the room that also held a pool table, a couple of large screen TVs, and a very expensive-looking card table covered in green felt.
“This is the common room,” Chase explained. “Y’all are welcome to use it whenever you like. The Johnsons and Foresters play cards down here most evenings after dinner. Even Old Man Dean sometimes comes down to be sociable. He’s up on the third floor.”
I glanced at Henry to see if he was as nervous as I was now that we were inside the imposing house, but he was his typical happy, bouncy self, excited to see everything Chase showed us.
“Like a lot of these old homes in Savannah,” Chase went on, leading us down a dimly lit hallway, “this place once belonged to a rich dude—prominent businessman in these parts—but it fell to ruin when his descendants moved on. For a few years back in the 1980s, Dawes House was turned into apartments for poor folks—”
He stopped talking abruptly and flushed, sending me an apologetic glance. Apparently, my arrangement with Whit wasn’t a secret.
I gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry, Mr. Crawford. I’m well aware I don’t have any money. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Sorry, all the same,” he said with a nod.
“But you’re right—nothing to be embarrassed about.
We all gotta have a little help now and then.
” He flashed that wide, charming grin and put a hand on his chest in mock solemnity.
“Me, I like to rely on the good graces of my dear cousin Whit Proffitt, whose last name, it seems, was quite prophetic.”
“Mr. Proffitt is your cousin?” I repeated, wondering if I’d heard right.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a wink. “He prefers to leave all the dirty work on the properties to me. Thinks maybe it’ll keep me out of trouble.”
I laughed a little, unable to resist his roguish charm. “Well, I’m glad to see I’m not the only charity case.”
He grinned again and gestured to an elevator. “Your chariot awaits.”
I studied the rickety—albeit beautiful—elevator, then sent a side glance at Chase. “Are you sure that’s safe?”
The conveyance looked more like a birdcage than an elevator.
Its dark wooden panels on the bottom half were each emblazoned with some kind of insignia featuring a raven surrounded by filigree.
The top half of the elevator was an actual cage of intricate bronze scrollwork and included a domed top sporting bronze statuettes of ravens mid-takeoff, as if carrying the elevator upward.
The whole contraption looked old enough to be original to renovations a century ago.
Chase pulled open the door and stepped inside. “Yes, ma’am. And I’m sure you’ll find it easier to get to the fourth floor than climbing all the stairs.”
Henry bounded in and motioned for me. “C’mon, Mama!”
“Okay, okay, you two can stop ganging up on me.” I said, stepping in.
Chase pulled the door closed and pressed the button. There was a loud clunk, and the elevator slowly began to creep upwards, creaking ominously as it inched along.
“Oh, yeah,” I murmured. “Totally safe.”
Chase chuckled. “Now, Ms. Dupont, do you think I’d put you and this handsome young man in danger on your very first day in this fine establishment?”
I had no idea what Chase Crawford would do. He was charming, handsome, maybe even a little bit wicked in all the good ways—but I didn’t trust him. Not yet. Certainly not with the safety of my son. I let his question go unanswered. It was probably meant to be rhetorical anyway.
The elevator dinged as we passed the third floor.
“Is Mr. Dean the only tenant on this floor?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Nope,” Chase answered. “Three apartments on the third floor. You’ve got Billy Wayne Wright and his wife Kitty. And then there’s Ms. Netty and her full-time nurse, Merilee Vaughn. Pretty sure Ms. Netty came with the house. Not quite all there anymore, but she’s a feisty old gal.”
“And Merilee?” I prompted.
Chase flushed slightly. “She’s young, pretty. You’ll like her.”
Clearly, he did. I suppressed a grin as the elevator jolted to a stop on the fourth floor.
Chase pushed open the door to reveal a dark hallway lit only by a single bulb hanging about midway down the hall, the others burned out or not working, and the open door at the far end with the white curtains I’d seen from the street.
“It’s dark up here,” I noted, reluctant to step out. I’d never been a fan of darkness, thanks to the intruders. I’d slept with the light on for years, trying to keep it a secret from Vivian when I could, taking the punishment she doled out when I couldn’t.
“Sorry about that,” Chase said in a rush, striding from the elevator and disappearing into the semidarkness, making me think he must’ve been the one who’d opened the door to nowhere. A moment later, more sunlight spilled into the hallway. “Hadn’t had a chance to finish opening things up.”
The sunlight revealed the reason why the hallway was so oppressive. The burnt-orange paint on the walls made the corridor feel claustrophobic. The paint peeled in places to reveal the plaster wall beneath, glimpses of white that were like quick gasps of untainted air.
“Are you adding more lights?” I asked, pulling Henry closer. “And I gotta be honest, the door at the end of the hallway makes me nervous. There’s nothing to prevent Henry from falling out if he got too close.”
Chase had opened another door at the other end of the hall, creating a welcome cross-breeze in the stifling heat.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “I’ll get these light fixtures back up today so you have some more light.
There’s supposed to be a locked wrought-iron gate on that door like on the other one.
I’ll see where that might’ve gotten to and take care of it as soon as possible.
” He turned to Henry. “You promise me you’ll stay away from that door until I can get the gate back up, alright? ”
Henry nodded. “Yes, sir, I promise.”
Chase tussled Henry’s dark hair and winked. “Atta boy. See, Mama? He’ll be fine until I can fix it.”
I eyed the door again, still uneasy. “What about the apartment on the basement level? Could we just stay there instead?”
“Afraid not,” Chase said. “It’s completely torn up. The new crew will be here Monday to get started on the renovations. There’s still some work needed on your apartment, but it’s livable, so Whit asked me to put you up here.”
I tried to set aside my hesitation, determined not to let Henry see that I was starting to regret my decision.
It’s only temporary, I reminded myself.
And, besides, it wasn’t like I had any other choice but to make it work until I had saved enough money to move again.
I nodded without much enthusiasm. “Okay. So, which one is ours?”
“That one there.” Chase gestured to the door farthest down the hall, but at least it was the one nearest the door with the gate.
“Sorry about the heat up here. The duct work is being worked on, so only the lower floors are air-conditioned right now. I’ve set you up with some window units until we get it taken care of. ”
I swallowed hard, thinking about how hot it already was. And it was only late spring. It’d been hard enough at our little house, but getting through a Savannah summer with only window units on the fourth floor of an old house…
My feet dragged a little as I followed Chase. “Do you have an ETA on when that will be finished? Henry has asthma. Summer can be tough on him.”
But asthma was only one of the issues that plagued my son.
The inexplicable, persistent anemia led to countless appointments, ER trips, a suppressed immune system, and days when he was too tired to function like a normal, healthy kid.
Heat just made his exhaustion worse. But I couldn’t say anything more or the tears I was holding back would come spilling out.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Chase promised, the look in his eyes a little too close to pitying for my liking. He unlocked the door and swung it open. “Here you go.”
I stood in the doorway, wide-eyed. “I…I thought this was being renovated. I mean, I didn’t think…”
Chase chuckled. “That’d be this nice?”
Sure, the walls had yellowed with age and needed new paint, and the area rugs were worn and threadbare in places, but the living room immediately inside the apartment was in great shape, all things considered.
Chase went to the windows across the room and pulled open the heavy drapes, revealing the air conditioning unit.
He turned it on, checking that it was secure.
With the drapes open, I could get a better look at the apartment.
The furniture was covered in sheets, but as Chase went around the room, pulling them off, revealing heavy (and no doubt expensive) couches, side tables, a coffee table, lamps with stained-glass shades, it was like I was watching a magician’s stage show. It was all too surreal.
“Mr. Proffitt mentioned that the apartment was mostly furnished, but I didn’t expect this much,” I said, taking it all in.