Chapter 13 #2
Arianna leans forward as though conspiratorially.
“There are so many rooms in this mansion, I haven’t even begun to see them all, but most of the second floor is bedrooms. A lot have antique furniture in them.
Some are amazing. We’ve all picked out the ones we want.
” She turns toward Brody. “Don’t be a poop, Melody should get to choose.
The one you’re in has no natural light.”
“It’s a place to sleep,” he argues.
All the women shake their heads and talk over each other. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I’m certain I agree with them. Bedrooms are important. They are much more than a place to sleep.
Brody holds up a hand. “Do not pressure Melody. We haven’t even finished discussing whether we’re staying in Wilde or not. You’re overwhelming her.”
Claire gasps. “Not staying in Wilde? You two can’t leave. You belong here. That’s just how it is. You come. You think you’re not going to stay, but then you do.” She shrugs like it’s super obvious.
I didn’t expect to feel this way, but these ladies are infectious. The energy in this house is not what I anticipated. The life, laughter, and banter fill my heart. Suddenly, I want to stay here even if Brody doesn’t. That’s not an option, of course, but I wish I could.
The odd thing is that I’ve been alone for so long. I’ve gotten used to it. Even in college, I had my own room. As an only child, I never shared my space or things with other kids. So this should be too overwhelming.
The conversation changes subject ten more times while we eat.
I’m relieved when all the focus is no longer on me.
I’m a shiny new toy. I get it, and everyone is so kind that I don’t mind.
It’s not like I’ve never met these women.
The men I don’t know as well. Mostly, they’re sitting back, sipping coffee, and smiling good-naturedly at their wives.
When we’re done eating, I stand and reach for my dishes, but Brody stops me.
“I’m at least going to take my plate and silverware to the kitchen,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. “Gretchen will slap your hand if you so much as try to.” He leans in closer.
“I think she worries we’ll start eliminating people’s jobs if we cook and clean.
We won’t, but she worries. The estate can afford to pay far more staff than we currently have.
It used to operate with dozens of people.
But apparently, our grandfather was a Scrooge.
We need to reverse that. People from the town need work. There’s plenty to be done here.”
I sigh and nod. I get it. Sort of. But it’s hard for me. No one has ever waited on me.
“Come.” He takes my hand. “I’ll show you what the girls are talking about upstairs.
” He leads me back through the kitchen and over to a set of stairs in the back corner.
“These are the rear stairs. There are ornate ones at the front of the mansion, but more often than not, we all congregate in here. We park behind the house, come in through the back, and use these stairs.”
When we reach the second floor, I’m mesmerized by the number of doors and hallways. This place is enormous. “How many bedrooms are there?”
“Fuck if I know. I’m not sure you could even count them.
When we say this place is a monstrosity, we are not kidding.
That’s become a household word around here.
Monstrosity. Someone should map it. I’ve seen the blueprints.
They’re a disaster and outdated. They go with some of the earlier versions of the mansion.
A lot of additions have happened since then. ”
I glance at him as we stroll down the hall. “Aren’t you an expert at such things?”
He laughs. “Yes, but I’m not tackling the mansion.
That’s a huge job. My responsibility is the town.
So many of the buildings are in disrepair, and many of them are owned by the estate.
Our eccentric grandfather stopped taking care of everything.
When Haden gets here, he will handle renovations at the estate. ”
Brody stops at a door and opens it. “I randomly chose this room on the night I arrived. It was vacant. It had a bed in it. I was tired. The girls are right. You should wander around and pick something you like.”
“Says the man who insists he’s not staying in Wilde,” I mutter as I step into the room he’s been using.
He grabs me around the waist and hauls my back against his front. His lips come to my ear. “We, baby. We’re a team now. There’s not me or you. Just we.”
“There might not be a we if you want to live in San Antonio. Maybe you could commute every other weekend,” I say, half kidding. Mostly kidding. Also checking to see how he’ll react.
He rests his head against my shoulder and shakes it. “We’re never spending another night apart, baby. We’re a unit now. The rest will sort itself out.”
I understand. I even agree. Except I’m concerned that by sort itself out, he means that he will talk me into moving to San Antonio. Could I do that?
For the first time, I ponder the notion. I like living in Wilde. I like the small-town atmosphere and the people. I like that they have all banded together to get things fixed up following the death of the man who basically owned the whole town.
Amos Wilde was a curmudgeon. He was ninety-five when he died.
No one knew what would happen following his death, but they certainly hadn’t expected him to have had such a bizarre will that left everything in the hands of his estranged grown-up grandchildren.
Nor did anyone except the attorney, Thomas McAndrews, know that the stipulation was that those grandkids could only collect their share of the inheritance if they moved to Wilde for ten years.
Apparently, Brody isn’t interested in moving here. I don’t know how much money each of them inherits after staying for a decade, but it has to be substantial. And whatever that number is, it’s not enough to lure Brody. So, he’s loaded.
Money is not an issue for either of us.
I wander toward the single window and look out. The view is amazing, but I bet it’s better on the other side of this hallway.
Spinning around, I make a decision. Operation: Convince Brody to Stay in Wilde. “Show me the rooms across the hall.”