by S. J. Frey
The door opens a little more, and a gloved hand reaches out, snatches the papers from me, and then slams the door in my face. It all happened so fast I wasn’t sure what is going on.
“H-Hey!” I yell, slamming my fist on the door. I am tired and hungry and didn’t want to deal with this right now.
“I don’t know who you are, but this not how you treat a lady! Hello!?!”
As my fist left the door, it opens inward once more. This time the door opens all the way and a tall man stands before me. He has short black hair and the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen. They remind me of a pool, so crystal clear that I want to jump in and disturb the still water. He's wearing a black suit with a black tie. It's a little strange, considering outfits like that didn’t belong in a town like this. He must have been amused by my gawking because his lips quirk up into a half smug smile.
I break out of my trance and stare at him, hand on my hip, trying to assert my dominance even though he is much taller than I am.
“It’s incredibly rude to slam the door on someone,” I state.
He looks at me and reaches into his blazer to grab my papers to hand back to me.
“I do apologize madam, but you have to understand. We get a lot of people wanting to buy this manor or claim that they are the rightful owner. You’ll have to excuse my ignorance.”
Okay. Now, this is getting weirder. Not only does this stranger have an accent, but who the hell talks so proper? Who is he? A Downtown Abbey extra?
“It’s alright, I guess. The real question is, who and why are you here? I was under the impression that this place is empty.” I ask, feeling a little nervous.
A small smile crosses his face as he gave a little bow at the waist.
“I am Darren Chambers, butler and current caretaker of the Montgomery Manor.”
Oh-kay. Not sure what century Darren is from, but he needs a reality check.
He stood up straight and moved a little to the side to give me room to walk by him.
“We were wondering when the new heir would arrive,” he says, as I slowly make my way past the threshold.
The foyer is elaborate. The floors shine with a delicate design, the polished marble and a grand staircase leading to the second floor splits at the top with hallways to the left and right. Each inch of the wall is in a deep red wallpaper with a gold design peeking through the massive amounts of art and pictures.
I immediately groaned. There are so many things from what I could see. I can only imagine the work I have to do to clean everything out. The place is so vast, and it is going to take more than a weekend to get everything packed and moved to sell.
Hearing the click from the door behind me, I jump. I look at Darren, who ignores my surprised look and starts to walk away.
“Follow me, Miss Elizabeth, and I can show you to your room.”
Right away, I don’t like this. I wasn’t planning on staying or keeping the manor. Not to mention, I didn't have the money to pay for the utilities or the staff. At the moment, it looks like it is only Darren.
I stop following him at the foot of the stairs and shake my head. “I am sorry, but I don’t plan on living here. I didn’t know who my father was or that he left me a mansion. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to keep the manor. I don’t have the means to pay you.” I say carefully, even though I felt terrible. This manor is probably his home, and I am destroying it for him.
Darren turns to look at me and sighs in annoyance, but he smiles anyway. “Do what you want. This manor is yours. Your father left it to you. So, you can do whatever you wish.”
I shake my head a little and look down at my feet. I notice my shoes are dirty from the dust and worn out from the constant moving; I look like a bum. Maybe that’s why Darren shut the door on me at first. Besides, I want to find a place to stay before the night gets darker, this forest is a maze, and I didn’t feel like getting lost.
Darren only stands there staring at me, making me feel more uncomfortable. “If you leave, you will be more tired than you already are. And by the looks of it, you could also use a bath," he smirks.
I'm not sure if he is trying to be funny or if he didn’t know what he is saying. Either way, I feel insulted. I purse my lips and turn right around to walk away. “Right, I’ll see you later,” I say, waving my hand, walking towards the door. I am too tired to argue with someone right now.
My eyes are glued to the ground as my brain bounces around to come up with a game plan. I’m still waiting for Amy to message me once she gets into town, only then can I figure out where we would stay. In the meantime, I am limited to what I can afford. I wouldn’t mind sleeping in my car, but water tends to leak through the window seals. In an instant, I bump into something and look up to see Darren standing right in front of me. I blink and glance back at the staircase before back at him. We are standing halfway to the door. How the hell did he get to me so fast? Then again, he did have long legs; he probably only had to take three steps.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to jump out at me,” I frown.
“It’s alright. Why don’t you stay here? You own this place now. It would make more sense to stay here than a hotel. Plus, I can cook dinner. It would be nice to break out the fine china again.” He says softly with another smile.
The guilt starts to creep up again. Darren is probably here alone since my father died. The way he is acting, it's hard to tell if he wants me to stay or leave. Maybe I’m thinking about it all wrong.
The fatigue is setting into my bones, and I still need a shower. Plus, if I didn’t go to a motel, I can save the money for when I travel back to New York. My growling stomach makes the final decision, and I swallow hard to try and not let my stomach embarrass me further.
“Okay, I guess I could stay.” I feel like a broken, battered woman accepting to stay here.
“Follow me.” He grins and gently grabs my elbow. His hands are cold to the touch but slowly warm up. I didn’t mind it, but the moment his fingertips reaches the same temperature as my skin, he let go.
I follow behind him up the stairs, turning to walk down the left hallway. I keep quiet and stare at all the pictures and art that scatter the walls. Whoever my father was, he loved art. A new fact that only deepened the mystery of who my father was. When I was young, I used to ask my mom about him, who he was, more importantly, where he was. However, no matter how many times I asked, she always got depressed and didn’t say anything.
Looking at Darren’s broad back, I clear my throat to get his attention as we walk. “Darren, was it? How much do you know of my father?” I ask.
Darren stays quiet for a moment and comes to a halt in front of a dark wooden door. He turns to look at me and appears to be even more annoyed than before. His face softens a little, and his eyes glide towards the window.
“Your father was a good man. He worked hard and gave us a place to stay. He loved your mother and you dearly. He used to talk about you two all the time, even up until his passing.”
I feel weird. I should feel sorry, but instead, I stand there, awkwardly. I didn’t know much about my father up until today. Now I have all of this information coming at me. I don’t want to talk about my father anymore with him. My stomach is churning, and I need to stop before I get sick.
“You say us, who else lives here?” I question. I hope there wasn’t a whole army of servants that I had to lay off inevitably.
Darren raises an eyebrow. "Yes, there are two more servants that worked under your father. There is Reginald, who maintains the gardens, library, and east downstairs corridors. And then there is Amaryllis, who tends to the western upstairs corridor, carport, and ballroom. I, of course, handle everything else.” He smiles with a sense of pride.
“Wow. This place is so big it must be a tough job. Will I meet the rest of the staff?”
As much as it pains me to tell them I am going to be selling the manor, I am still slightly curious about meeting these people. Maybe I should sign the est
ate over to one of them. My father gave them a place to stay, so now they can own it. No hassle, right?
Darren chuckles, “You will meet Reginald, and let's hope you eventually don’t meet Amarylis. She can be a troublemaker.”
I nod and tuck some hair behind my ear. It’s still hard to believe that a father would leave a manor like this to me. With all the furniture, art, and now employees, it was all too much for me. William did say I owned everything inside, and he wasn’t kidding. The thought of going through and separating everything is starting to give me a headache.
“Well, this is your room. Your bathroom is the door on the left when you walk in. There are fresh towels and sheets for you. I will be downstairs preparing dinner. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” He gives another little bow and walks away towards the same way we came.
I watch for a while and yawn, opening the door to my room. The moment I did, I am completely in shock. There is a large canopy bed in the middle of the room with dark blue bedding. The pillows are a cream color satin, and the canopy is white lace. The bed is big enough for at least three people.
Slowly, I shut the door behind me and walk over to the bed, placing a hand down on the mattress to test the firmness. I explore the room a little and run my hand over the glossy black wardrobe and vanity. This room was made for a princess, no doubt. My father must have been a damn good politician to be able to afford such luxury.
There is a door off to the right of the room that caught my attention. When I open the door, it reveals a walk-in closet with all kinds of clothes and dresses ranging in sizes. Shoes line the floor to the back of the closet. I need to take six giant-size steps to walk through it. It is only then that it dawns on me that I left my clothes in my car, so I’ll have to grab something to get me by. I pick up a purple sweater that was loosely knit and a pair of black leggings. The shirt will be a little too big, but it would do for now.
The moment I open the bathroom door, I thought I died and went to heaven. The bathroom is something only seen in hotels. A large white tub with little jets is off to the right of the tiled floor, and a large vanity sink is to the left. The toilet is towards the back behind a half wall. Across from it, there is a glass shower door for the standing shower. There is too much going on, and I feel my head spin. I don’t know what to do. Looking back at the tub, I decided a nice hot bath was what I need. The jets would feel relaxing on my sore back from moving all the trash and heavy bags. I turn the knobs to let the tub fill with hot water while I undress.
There is a timer on the wall for the jets, begging me to turn them on. I set it for thirty minutes and smile, seeing the tub roar to life. The hot water starts to soothe my skin and relax my muscles as I ease myself lower into the water. My eyes close, and a sigh escapes my lips the deeper I sink my body. For a moment, all my stress from the day melted away, and the rushing thoughts came to a stop, drowned out by the sound of the rushing water and bubbling jets.
Four
The bath was just what I needed. After I towel dried my hair, I placed the damp towels on the counter. Once I put on my purple sweater, I tried to run my fingers through the wet rat’s nest I had on my head since I could not locate a brush.
I have no intention of staying in my room all day. There is a lot of work to be done if I want to get back to New York in a timely fashion. I can start taking inventory now, and when Amy gets into town, she can help me sell everything.
My bare feet tiptoe down the carpeted hallway. As I walk by the windows on my left decorated in dark red velvet curtains, I stop to look through the glass to see how the backyard looks. There is a large garden with rose bushes of different colors, and a patio with some elegant, white, iron furniture. Trees protect the perimeter of the land, making everything calm and serene. For a brief moment, I'm at peace and forgot about everything around me.
After staring blankly for an eternity, I broke away from the window and continue down the hallway.
I stop towards the staircase and look down the carpeted stairs. A large chandelier hangs high in the foyer, showering the dark walls with multicolor dots. The brown banister leading down is so shiny and clean that I thought for sure Darren cleans it every day. Who knows? Maybe he did. The building is so elegant to the smallest detail; it is hard to believe that royalty didn't live here.
The manor is quiet, aside from the sounds coming from the large wooden door to the left of the staircase. Quietly, I tipped toed to the door and opened it a crack to see what was inside. I recognize Darren standing at the sink, washing something. Before I could get a good look at the kitchen, Darren decides to turn around. I quickly jump back so he wouldn’t see me.
Carefully I walk back the hallway to the right of the kitchen and continue down the path. The decorated rug ended, and my feet touch the cold hardwood floors. A small shiver trickles down my spine as I walk past the open windows. The one thing I noticed the most about this place was the symmetry. Each floor had the same number of rooms as well as windows. It seems that everything is in perfect order and clean. Maybe my father liked it that way.
I am bored by the time I get to the end of the hallway. It is a dead-end and didn’t loop around the building. Sighing, I turn around to go back to my room but stop seeing a door open.
“That wasn’t open when I walked by,” I whisper to myself.
Taking a quick look around, making sure no one was watching me, as I slowly walk over to the door and push it open. The door creaks loudly and gently bumps the wall when it makes contact.
The room is dark, and I am afraid to go in. Going into creepy places was one-way people died in horror movies! It will be just my luck if this manor is haunted just as much as how luxurious it is. I look back down the hallway towards the staircase to see if someone was coming. Then I look at the other door to my left to make sure no one is standing there.
When the coast is clear, I sneak into the doorway and touch the bare wall looking for the light switch, hoping nothing will grab my arm in the process. I feel the light switch with the tips of my fingers and flip it up. The room smells old and musty and grew stronger the further I walk in.
Bookcases cover the walls and full of books with rolled-up papers. The floor is filthy with open books, newspapers, and yellow folders like the ones William gave me. In the center of the room is a dark wooden desk with a red hue. Maybe it is made out of Cherry? Even more books and papers cover the surface of the desk.
For as clean as the rest of the manor is, this room is a disaster.
I sit down on the black leather chair behind the desk and look around me. I swivel the chair and glance at a cabinet against the wall that held drinking glasses and some bottles of brown fluid. I grimace at the liquid and rotate back to the desk. This room is too messy to ignore and needs cleaning first.
The air grew dusty as I pick up some papers to clean up the desk a little. Some are newer, while others are drastically older. Among the pile of books, there is a newspaper in a different language. Just who was my father?
When I was growing up, I always speculated who he was. Mom never really talked about him too much. When I asked, she would stare off into space and tell me he was a great guy, but she couldn’t remember much. It got to the point where I stopped asking because I never got a real response from her.
I used to get so jealous of my friends growing up. When the parents had an open house or the father-daughter dances at school, I was teased for being the oddball. From then on, I decided that I didn’t need a father in my life. I had mom, and that’s all I needed.
A tear trickles down my face making me wake up from my daydream. Even though mom passed away a few months ago, it still felt fresh in my heart. I’ve been doing my best to keep everything under control. When I thought back at how alone mom was when I was younger makes me resent my father even more. My throat was growing tight, and it's getting hard to swallow as the guilt got stuck in my chest. I left mom alone when I left for school, and I wasn’t around for her when she died. If m
y father was around, she didn’t have to work so hard. Things would have been easier for her if she had the help. I thought I was helping by going to school to make something of myself, for us.
My emotions are getting out of control, and I slam my fist on the desk. When my fist makes contact with the hard surface, the top drawer pops open with a click. I quickly wipe my eyes and pull the drawer open all the way to see what is inside.
A black box decorated in silver trim stands out and catches my eye. As I pull it out, I notice how heavy it is, and I wondered what is inside. Based on the weight, I have to guess a rock or brick. To my dismay, the box is locked, and I need a key to open it. I gently place the box on the desk and start to rummage through the drawer. I hope I find the key to satisfy my curiosity. Instead, I see only a bunch of pictures and some more papers.
I pull out the pictures by the handful, and to my surprise, there were of my mother. A younger, healthier version of my mother was smiling back at me through the black and white barrier. I chuckle as I look at her long hair and those god-awful bell bottoms.