Chapter Twenty-One Savannah
| Twenty-One |
Savannah
After living in such close proximity to others, it was a stark contrast. Even the drive to the house down the long winding road had seemed endless, with no other houses or establishments in sight.
The house was surrounded by trees, now bare of their leaves, and the ground was blanketed by snow.
It would be gorgeous in the spring and fall when the grass was green and the trees adorned by colorful leaves.
But right now, all she wanted to do was get inside and sit by a warm fire.
Bennett was out the door and running toward her before she got out of the vehicle. Trotting next to him was his beautiful dog, Finn. Bennett had shown her pictures of him.
“You’re here! Welcome,” Bennett said. He embraced her, giving her a long kiss. The dog sat next to him, wagging his tail.
“This must be Finn.” Finn ran over to her, his tail going a mile a minute. “Hi, Finn. Can’t wait to get to know you.” She looked at Bennett. “He’s adorable!”
“Give me the keys, and I’ll pull it into the garage and unload.”
“I can help,” she said, not wanting to seem entitled or spoiled, but he shook his head.
“No, no. I insist. Come on.”
She handed him the keys, walked into the three-car garage, and waited by the side door for him to get out. A green Range Rover was parked in one spot, and a silver sports car she didn’t recognize was next to it.
As Bennett started bringing her things in, she pointed. “What kind of car is that?”
“Aston Martin Vantage. Couldn’t resist. Only drive it in the summer. In fact, I need to get it into storage. These cold temps are no good for it.”
She followed him through the front door and took in the surroundings.
A beautiful, curved staircase to her left and a double-sized closet on her immediate right.
The living room was large and painted a cheery yellow.
The afternoon sun streaming in through the windows made everything glow.
A beautiful oriental rug in greens and blues partially covered the gleaming blond hardwood floors.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined one wall, and she couldn’t wait to have a look at the books Bennett had chosen to fill them with.
She wandered over. There were two shelves with leather editions of the classics.
Then a shelf with modern fiction and on the bottom an assortment of illustrated fairy tales.
Soft light from table lamps brightened the room, and the beige sofa and love seat looked inviting.
“This is beautiful,” she said, smiling at Bennett. “Have you read all the classics?” she asked, pointing to the bookshelves.
“Not all. But many. The Complete Tales of Poe several times. Working my way through The Count of Monte Cristo right now, but not while I’m drafting.”
“It’s a great collection you have.”
He smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you around.
” He led her to the kitchen. It was beautiful, with creamy beige cabinets with custom inlays, delicate crown molding, and a speckled granite countertop.
She imagined herself cooking them gourmet meals here, the kind she never had the room for in her cramped apartment.
Not that she was a gourmet cook. In fact, she mostly microwaved frozen dinners.
But she would learn. Surrounding the island were cushioned navy stools, and she imagined them having their morning coffee together before starting their day.
Everything was sleek and new, the appliances top-of-the-line.
She walked over to the French doors and looked out at the infinity pool, now covered.
She bet it was spectacular in the summertime with the view of the large pond below it and the woods a backdrop to it all.
The dining room was next. She’d never seen anything like it in person.
She felt as though she’d stepped onto the set of a movie where the main characters weren’t just rich.
They were rich, rich, rich. An enormous carved fireplace dominated one wall; its mantel adorned with what had to be priceless oriental vases.
The wallpaper looked like it had been flown in straight from Paris: exquisite, subtle, a light champagne color patterned with exotic birds.
And the table. She caught her reflection in the glossy dark wood and slowly counted chairs.
Twenty! Every piece of furniture looked unique and handcrafted.
This wasn’t a dining room where families ate.
This was a place where servers hovered, and each place setting came with more cutlery than she’d know what to do with.
She felt small, provincial, completely out of her depth. She turned to him.
“Wow, this is something else. Do you actually eat in here?”
He laughed. “It’s over the top, right? When I bought the place, I hired a designer. She thought it would be a great space to host author dinners.”
“That sounds amazing. Have you?”
He shook his head. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the most social guy.” He shrugged. “It does the house justice, I guess. I hardly ever come in here. I bought the house for the property more than the rooms. Shall we go upstairs?”
She pointed to a closed door off the living room. “What about that room?”
“My office.”
“Can I see it?”
A look she couldn’t discern crossed his face. “I don’t mean to sound strange, but I don’t allow anyone in there. The rest of the house is yours. Go wherever you like, but not my office.”
For some reason the story of Bluebeard came to mind.
His new wife was told she could enter any of the rooms of the house except for a little closet.
She was forbidden under threat of punishment to open it.
What was wrong with her? That was Bennett’s writing space.
He was probably superstitious about anyone else being in it.
“Is that a writing thing? You don’t want your space invaded?”
He gave her a long look. “Is that a problem? There’s no reason for you to go in there.
” He spread his hands out. “Any room you like, but that one. I don’t even mind if you want to redecorate.
All I ask is that you stay out of my office.
” His voice had an edge to it she hadn’t heard before. She didn’t like it.
“No problem,” she answered in a clipped tone.
She was quiet as she followed him up the long staircase and he stopped at the first room.
“Guest room,” he said as she glanced inside. It looked like something you’d see at a bed-and-breakfast. A canopy bed with a white frilly bedspread. A rocking chair sat in the corner, and more bookshelves filled again to the brim. It was lovely.
“And this is our room. I’ve knocked out the wall to one of the other guest rooms to make the bedroom bigger.”
The walls were a dark gray and the furniture mahogany.
A large king-sized bed was bookended by two matching nightstands, and a tan oriental rug of browns and grays partially covered the hardwood floor.
Modern art pieces dotted the walls and there was a large sculpture in the corner that looked like a fragmented human bust. Watch gears and clock hands for features were glued to the base, and faded black-and-white photos covered the chest area.
She bet it was one of Poppy’s art pieces, but she looked over at Bennett with a question in her eyes to see what he would say.
“One of Poppy’s favorites. Time as Memory.”
She didn’t want that thing in their bedroom, but she couldn’t appear insensitive. “It’s…interesting.”
“Yeah, she was so talented. Most of her work is still in the loft, but there are some pieces throughout the house. I couldn’t bear to put them away.”
Savannah would be happy to put them away for him, but she smiled and merely commented, “It’s nice that you were so supportive of her work.”
“I was. I even bought into a partnership in a gallery for her. She only did one show there.” He swallowed. “She died a week before her second exhibition.”
Savannah had read about the gallery he’d invested in but pretended it was news to her. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
“I’m doing my best to put it behind me. I sold my interest in the gallery.
It was too hard. But now you’re the brightness in my life.
” He looked around the room again. “Listen, I don’t want you to feel like you’re stepping into another woman’s bedroom.
Why don’t you redecorate? There’s a designer in town who can help you if you like. ”
She had already planned to. She wanted to erase all reminders of Poppy from the house. This was her house now, after all. She raised her eyebrows and pretended to be surprised by the suggestion. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. This is our bedroom now. Our house now. Do whatever you like. Come look at the balcony.”
He slid the glass door open, and she followed him out, shivering as the wind bit into her skin.
From here, the view stretched endlessly across the property, rolling out in every direction as if it had no end.
It was breathtaking, yes, but the sheer vastness of it, so open and empty without another house or any sign of life, made her chest tighten.
Suddenly the isolation crept in, making her uneasy.
Bennett’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s Marion. I’m going to take this in my office.”