7. Invasive Species #3
Maida carried the mug over to her comfy, tufted green leather wing chair.
This was her favorite place to read, besides her bed.
There was a hideous afghan spread across the back.
One of Granny Luna’s many dubious attempts at learning how to crochet.
Maida cherished it all the more because it was such a monstrosity of love.
She had to shove the pile of jewelry aside to make room for her cup of tea on the nightstand.
It was no surprise that the burglar had stolen none of it.
All of her pieces were from craft fairs and flea markets.
The simple natural stone and crystal pieces she adored were only precious to her.
Her homemade amethyst and quartz concoctions gave her more happiness than any solid gold watch ever could.
Maida sifted through the pile, looking for the aquamarine bracelet she’d made in a beading class last summer. Aquamarine engendered a sense of calm and peace. As she sorted, her hand closed around the vintage silver locket again.
What the hill and dale?
This time, she was certain she had not carried the locket over with her. Or had she? The square of printed silk was still sitting on the kitchen table, right where she had left it.
The locket felt warm and smooth in her hand.
It vibrated gently against her skin, humming like the purr of a kitten.
That was crazy. Maida slipped the chain over her head again, and let the locket settle against her chest, close to her heart.
She stroked the L with her forefinger, pondering how it was possible that this locket felt so alive?
There was probably some clever clockwork mechanism hidden beneath the image. Perhaps it was one of those perpetual motion types that wound themselves with movement.
How on earth had something like that survived for so long in the ocean?
She was just about to take another peek inside when the phone on the nightstand sprang to life in a burst of bells. She knew exactly who it was, even before she picked up, plucking the receiver from its cradle on the second ring.
“What’s up, Will?” she asked. He’d beaten her to the call.
“Oh, thank Juno you answered! We’ve been trying to reach you all day, Maida Lathrop Westabrook!” Will was only seven years older than Maida but he scolded as if he were her parent, and not a near peer.
“I’m sorry, it’s just been a bit crazy here today,” Maida apologized. “I was just about to call you back. I swear, I was holding the phone.”
“Crazy how?” Will’s tone pivoted to protective concern, faster than you could snap a rubber band. “What’s going on? Is everything okay with you?”
“Of course!” Maida lied. “Everything is fine, Will. You just had me worried that something is wrong with my father. Is he okay?”
“Oh yeah, he’s great. Keynote speaker at the big energy summit this year,” Will confirmed.
“Shouldn’t you be there with him, then?” Maida asked.
“Not this time,” Will said. “He’s asked me to stay behind and go over a bit of paperwork with you, having to do with an inheritance from your mother’s estate.”
“What inheritance?” Maida’s brow furrowed. As far as she knew, her mother’s family had cut her mother off when she became pregnant and dropped out of school. They’d never reached out to Maida. Not once.
“It’s a historic house, actually. Funny story. It’s been yours all along. How about I tell you about it tomorrow?”
“An entire house? Why hasn’t anyone ever mentioned this to me before?” Maida was wary. Before her move to California, she’d carefully assessed her assets and liquidated quite a few. There were no houses listed in her portfolio.
“It’s a complicated matter, legally speaking.
Apparently, the estate was tied up in some sort of trust, overseen by a caretaker, and you know local codes, contingencies, codicils, blah, blah, blah…
They’ve only just contacted your dad about it in order to get in touch with you.
” Will tutted. “That’s why I’m bringing one of your dad’s solicitors with me.
Arthur Hart can explain it all to you tomorrow.
Best we get the whole thing squared away ASAP. ”
That name was vaguely familiar. The groundskeeper at her father’s house had been a Hart.
“Arthur Hart, as in Reginald Hart?” Maida asked.
“Yes, I believe that Reggie was his father,” Will confirmed.
“Huh,” Maida said. She did not recall the groundskeeper having a son. Reggie had lived in a small cottage on the grounds for years, and nobody ever visited him.
“So you’ll meet up with us tomorrow? We have a bit of business to handle in LA first, but we can meet you at ten a.m. if that works.”
Maida checked her calendar. She’d have to skip a lecture about monarch butterfly conservation and native milkweed species. But she didn’t mind. She was sure she could get the same info elsewhere. Legal formalities aside, it would be nice to see Will’s familiar face. She didn’t get many visitors.
“Okay. Where do you want to meet?” Maida asked.
“How about that cute donut place near you?” Will asked.
“Do you mean The Bunny Hole?” Maida smiled. The fanciful donut shop was right up Will’s alley, and it was also one of her favorite places to go for a treat.
“Yes! How about we meet there? They have the most stunning selection of donuts. It changes every week!”
“How would you know?” Maida asked suspiciously. “Have you been spying on me again for my dad?” She would not be surprised if he were. But she would be angry.
“The Bunny Hole is legendary.” Will evaded the question. “I can’t come to Laguna and miss it. You know how bad my FOMO gets around trendy local eateries.”
“I thought you were coming here to see me,” Maida teased.
“Both things can be true,” Will replied.
“Okay then,” Maida said. “Ten a.m. it is. But, Will, what if I don’t want the house?” She hesitated, thinking about how much hassle a house could be, particularly a historic house. How old was it? What if it needed repairs? It sounded like the exact opposite of simple.
Just thinking about cleaning up her studio apartment exhausted her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to take on any more projects.
“Oh, I think you’ll want it,” Will said. “But your dad and Arthur thought you might pass on the property, so they’ve drawn up some papers that will allow it to be reassigned.”
“Phew,” Maida exhaled.
“Between you and me, I really don’t think you should do that!” Will blurted. He spoke so fast that his words almost ran together.
“Oh? Why not?” Maida asked. She wasn’t accustomed to Will offering advice.
“It’s just a feeling.” He paused. “It’s special, Maida. It’s not an ordinary house.”
“Well, that could be a problem, Will. I’m a very ordinary woman.”
“But are you? Are you really?” Will asked. “I’m not sure I buy that. I see you, Maida. I think you’re far more extraordinary than anyone gives you credit for. There’s something different about you. Always has been.”
Maida couldn’t believe the words he was saying. It brought tears to her eyes. Too bad her father didn’t see her the same way.
”Thank you, Will,” she choked out.
“Well, don’t go all maple syrupy on me now, Mayday.
Just promise me you’ll think about it? I’m not sure how else to say it, except that I think this house is magical.
It’s chosen you. You shouldn’t turn your back on that.
” Will sounded oddly sage for a moment, before sighing dramatically and reverting to his usual flippant style.
“Whatever. Take it or leave it. Makes no diff to me. Either way, I’m getting donuts and a day off from the deal. That’s also magic.”
Maida shook her head. Classic Will.
“See you tomorrow, bro.” Maida used the affectionate term she reserved for him.
“See ya, sis.”
She ended the call and reached down to grasp the locket again.
It fell open in her hand. An ink-dark sky full of twinkling stars swaddled the house in the picture.
On the porch, a single lamp light was lit beside the front door.
The rest of the rooms inside were dark, save for one room in the turret and the eyes in the eaves.
They blinked at her lovingly, like a satisfied pet cat.
It was precisely the sort of place she’d always dreamed of living in. If only she could inherit an imaginary house exactly like this one.