by Lynn Ames
She could hear Brooke’s footfalls on the tile floor in the kitchen, and the opening and closing of cabinets.
“Wait until you see this,” Brooke exclaimed. “The entire kitchen looks brand new. Nora must’ve given this place a makeover sometime in the last few years. It’s got professional-grade appliances and all updated fixtures. Amazing.”
Diana joined Brooke. She was right. The entire kitchen looked like something straight out of Better Homes and Gardens or Architectural Digest. “Do you suppose Aunt Nora has a caretaker? Somebody’s gone to a lot of trouble to do upkeep.”
“Didn’t Charles say all of the information we needed about each of our properties could be found in our folders?”
“That’s right. I forgot.”
“Did you bring yours?”
“I did. It’s in my computer bag in the back seat.”
“I’ll get it,” Brooke said.
She was gone before Diana could object. She wandered out of the kitchen and into the dining room. The table was covered with a perfectly creased, hand-embroidered tablecloth. A glass-front breakfront ran the length of the near wall. It was filled with fine china, crystal glassware, and highly polished pewter serving bowls.
She tried to imagine Aunt Nora sitting at the head of the table, entertaining erudite colleagues and friends.
“Got it,” Brooke said. “Where are you?”
“In here.”
Brooke appeared in the doorway carrying Diana’s computer bag over one shoulder. She had a roller bag in each hand. “I know I only went outside for the folder, but I figured I might as well bring everything in before it gets full dark out there.”
“Good thinking. I suppose we ought to figure out where we should bunk. We can check the folder after that.” She relieved Brooke of her computer bag and suitcase.
They hadn’t yet left the first floor and seen the sleeping quarters. From the size of the place, it was obvious there were multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, but none of them were on the main level. “All roads lead to the upper floors.”
“It’s your house,” Brooke said. “Lead the way.”
They carried their bags up the stairs to the second floor. Diana paused at the landing, trying to get her bearings. The staircase continued upward to a third floor. A brightly lit, airy full bathroom was directly in front of her. To the left was what appeared to be the master suite. To the right were an additional two bedrooms.
“Do you want to put your stuff in the master suite?”
Diana’s heart turned over. “I can’t stay in there, not tonight, anyway. Sleeping in Aunt Nora’s bed seems…wrong.”
Brooke patted her on the shoulder. “I get it. I’m not sure I could do that yet, either. I’m sure there are other bedrooms in this house.”
“I think there are a couple that way.” She indicated the open doors to the right. And this is where it gets awkward. There was no reason to suggest they share a bed tonight. But her body remembered waking in Brooke’s arms this morning, and she knew she’d give anything to feel that sensation again.
“Probably. I’m going to check out the third floor.” Without waiting for an answer, Brooke continued upward. “Hey. There are two more bedrooms up here and a sitting room that looks like it was Nora’s home office. Mind if I choose one of the rooms up here?”
“No. Go ahead.” Diana hoped her disappointment wasn’t obvious. She dragged the suitcase behind her and headed toward the first room on the right. It was a guest bedroom with a queen-size bed, a comfy-looking chair in the corner, a vanity with an upright chair, and a pair of windows that overlooked the backyard. She set her suitcase and computer bag down and exited to explore further.
The next room on the right was another, smaller bedroom with a queen-size bed, a rocking chair, and a wooden dresser. This room featured a single window.
The only room remaining on the second level was Nora’s, and Diana knew she couldn’t put it off forever. She walked down the hall and entered through the French doors into a charming master bedroom suite.
The bedroom was large and featured a king-size bed with a solid-oak head and footboard, a matching dresser, and a bookcase chock-full of classics. Light streamed in through another doorway beyond the foot of the bed. She went to investigate.
“Whoa. Didn’t see that coming.”
“Didn’t see what coming?” Brooke asked.
She jumped and clutched at her heart.
Brooke was less than an arm’s length behind her. “I’m sorry.” Brooke laid a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you heard me knock on the door frame. Maybe I should wear a cow bell next time?”
Diana sucked in a deep breath and willed her heartbeat to settle down. She turned to face Brooke. “I guess it depends.”
Brooke’s fingertips grazed across her shoulder and down her arm before she withdrew the touch. “On what?”
“On whether I decide I’d rather be frightened to death or annoyed to death.”
“Do I get a vote? If so, I prefer in all instances that you stay alive.”
Brooke’s voice was husky, and her breath smelled like peppermint Lifesavers. She was standing close—too close. Diana’s gaze wandered to her mouth. If she leaned forward, their lips would meet. Think of something repugnant. Think of something repugnant.
“Diana?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you thinking?”
What should she say? “Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you have this really weird look on your face, like you just ate an entire lemon.”
She barked out a laugh. “It worked. Ha!”
“What worked?”
“I was trying to think of the vilest thing I could imagine, and it worked.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I was desperate to kiss you and I needed to distract myself so I wouldn’t do it.”
Now it was Brooke’s turn to laugh. “You’ve lost your mind, you know that?”
“More than one person has suggested it.” But she still had the irrepressible urge to sweep Brooke into her arms and kiss her breathless.
“Stop staring at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re hungry and I’m on the menu.”
“Oh, like that.” Diana smiled sheepishly.
“Let’s focus on your discovery, shall we?”
“Right.”
She led them through the doorway and into a gorgeous sunroom with wrap-around windows. A settee sat in the corner. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a lush back garden. A small desk filled the other end of the space, overlooking a shaded area with old-growth trees.
“Wow. This is a fantastic space. What a fabulous place to sit and read.”
“Yeah.” She could imagine Brooke curled up on the settee, reading a book while she wrote up her lecture notes at the desk. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Brooke breezed past her, oblivious to her fantasy, and popped her head into the master bathroom. “This clearly has been updated too. Nice granite, hers and hers sinks, cherry cabinets, a walk-in shower and what appears to be a new toilet.”
“There’s a custom walk-in closet in here,” she called from the bedroom. She was surprised to find that the closet was empty. When had Aunt Nora cleaned out the closet? Or maybe she had someone do it for her?
“Nice,” Brooke said.
“You have got to stop sneaking up on me.”
“But it’s so much fun to watch your reaction.”
Again, Brooke was in her personal space. “You think so, do you? In that case, this is your fault.”
This time, her instincts overrode her better judgment. She grabbed a handful of Brooke’s sweater and pulled her close. Brooke’s lips parted in surprise, and Diana claimed her mouth.
Brooke met her ardor and Diana felt her knees give way. Strong hands splayed across her lower back, holding her in place. Diana’s hands flew into Brooke’s hair, caressing
, stroking, luxuriating in the velvety softness.
She groaned as Brooke’s hands slid underneath her shirt and fingers deftly explored her overheated skin. “Oh, my God. I want you so much.”
Even as the words came out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. Not because she didn’t mean it, she absolutely did. But because she felt Brooke’s body stiffen in response just before she pulled away.
She closed her eyes. They both were panting, foreheads touching, breasts heaving, bodies shaking.
“That was…” Brooke trailed off without completing the sentence.
“Yeah.” Diana was on fire, and the ensuing silence left her feeling exposed. What would Aunt Nora do? She’d come up with some witty banter. She’d use humor to deflect. But she wasn’t Aunt Nora. Still, she could give it a shot.
“You do know we’re standing in a closet. It’s the ultimate lesbian cliché.” She smiled to lessen the awkwardness.
Brooke cleared her throat and straightened up. “I don’t know about you, but I came out of the closet years ago.”
“Me too. Perhaps we should have a second coming…out.” She stepped out of the closet and into the bedroom with Brooke close on her heels.
“Ha, ha. I give you points for cleverness, even though that was a groan-worthy pun.”
“One can never have too many cleverness points.” She decided to change the subject. “Didn’t you go out to the car about one-hundred-years ago to get the folder so we could learn more about this place?”
“I did.”
She led the way into the bedroom she had chosen for herself, with Brooke close on her heels.
“Nice room.” Brooke snatched up the computer bag from the floor and thrust it at her. “But maybe we should take this somewhere safer, like the living room.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Being in the bedroom with Brooke was too distracting. Also, she badly wanted to tour the rest of the house, but for the moment, a little reading and research seemed the safest bet.
Once they were seated on the couch in the living room, Diana pulled out the folder labeled, “Diana – Cambridge House.” The top document was a copy of Aunt Nora’s will. She set that aside. Next in the folder were several sheets of paper stapled together. The top page was titled, “Important Information re: Cambridge House.” This she began to read.
“Wait,” Brooke said.
“What?”
“It looks like… May I?” Brooke relieved her of the document and an additional folded piece of paper tucked between the pages fell onto the coffee table. She handed the document back to her, along with the folded piece of paper. “Sorry. I saw the corner of this hanging out.”
“Good catch.” Diana opened the folded page.
Dear Diana,
I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity for us to get reacquainted before I passed. (Yes, I used past tense. If you’re reading this, it means I’ve been mercifully relieved of my decrepit body).
When you first walked through the door of the cottage, I was afraid you would turn right back around and leave. I’m glad you stayed.
By now, you’re also aware that I’ve left you the house in Cambridge. Please do not feel obligated in any way to inhabit the house. It is yours to do with what you wish. The same is true for the décor and my possessions.
Some time ago, when I realized I likely no longer would be able to travel back and forth between Cambridge and Truro, I took the liberty of hiring a caretaker for the house. I couldn’t fathom renting the place out, and I didn’t have the fortitude to sell it.
I do hope you’ll find everything in good order and working properly. Note that I updated the kitchen and my living quarters just a few years ago when I looked around and realized that the rooms in which I spent most of my time were in dire need of a facelift.
You are under no obligation, of course, to keep the caretaker on, but this is someone I know well and trust. I’ve made provision for his continued salary in my bequest to you in case this is a path you choose to take.
Take good care of yourself, Diana. And, if you choose to keep the house, I do hope with all my heart that you’ll fill it with love.
All my love,
Aunt Nora
Wordlessly, Diana passed the card to Brooke. She picked up the house document. It was a recitation of the facts of the house—its features, square footage, maintenance history, and a list of contractors, including professionals Aunt Nora had used for plumbing, heating, electrical, and general contracting. At the bottom of the page, in capital letters, was the name of the caretaker and contact information. She would be sure to get in touch with him first thing in the morning. She didn’t want him to think there were intruders in the house, nor was she anxious to be surprised by someone with a key.
Next to her, Brooke’s stomach rumbled. “I guess that means you’re hungry?”
“Oops. Sorry about that.”
“How about if we finish taking a quick tour of the place, grab some dinner in town, and hit the sack early? I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Brooke stood and helped Diana up. “And for the record? I’ll be sleeping on the third floor. Safer for both of us that way.”
She heaved a heavy sigh. “Why must you be so practical?”
“Because one of us should keep a level head, and so far, it seems I’ve been elected.”
“Now I have nothing to look forward to.” She mock-pouted.
“How about this? First thing in the morning, we can go scouting around for the mysterious trunk.”
“Well, at least that’s something.”
Aunt Nora’s trunk, the object that might hold the key to the mystery of her past. Diana had to admit she was intrigued.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The day dawned sunny and cold, and Brooke awoke to a splash of light creating an interesting pattern across the quilt. The room was so frigid she could see her breath. Diana would have to do something about the heat in this place. Or maybe they’d forgotten to turn it up before bedtime?
The latter was most likely. After all, they’d both been too preoccupied with trying to avoid the temptation of falling into bed together to worry about something as trivial as turning up the thermostat.
Brooke stretched and threw on a pair of sweats, a sweatshirt, and some heavy socks she’d thrown into her bag. She couldn’t hear Diana from here, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t up.
When she reached the second level, she hesitated. Diana’s bedroom door was open. She couldn’t hear a shower. Would Diana shower in the master bath? Probably. She thought about knocking on the doorframe, but what if Diana was in there naked? It wouldn’t do to start the day off aroused. It was bad enough she’d gone to bed that way. It took her forever to fall asleep.
They didn’t have anything to eat in the house. She should find the car keys and go forage for food.
When she reached the landing, Diana called out, “I’m in here and I’ve got breakfast!”
Well, that answers that. She followed the sound of Diana’s voice and discovered her in the breakfast nook. An untouched spread of bagels and cream cheese sat in the middle of the table, along with two cups of coffee, a fruit salad, and orange juice.
“How long have you been up?”
“Longer than you, apparently. I went out and got us breakfast.” Diana pointed to Brooke’s head. “Nice hair, by the way.”
Self-consciously, she smoothed down her cowlick. Diana was fully dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Her hair was combed and neatly ordered, and she smelled like lavender.
“Did you sleep okay?” Diana asked.
“Yes. You?”
“Better than I anticipated, although I wished we’d taken the time yesterday to figure out the heating system.”
She laughed. “I thought the same thing. I could see my breath up there.”
Diana wagged a finger at her. “Remember, I offered you body heat.”
“No, you didn’t…not specifically
, anyway.”
“It was implied.”
“Noted.” She selected a poppy seed bagel and spread some cream cheese on it and then spooned herself out a bowl of fruit salad. “This mine?” She pointed to the coffee cup on the right.
“Yep.”
“Thanks for getting all that.”
“Hostess with the most-est.” Diana took a bite of a cinnamon raisin bagel. “I spoke with the caretaker this morning.”
“He must’ve been up early.”
“I texted him and he called me right back. Charles must’ve talked to him, because he already knew that Aunt Nora was gone, and he knew who I was.”
“That’s efficient.”
“He’ll be over a little later to walk us through some quirks and idiosyncrasies.” Diana made air quotes.
“In that case, I’d better jump in the shower.” She gobbled down the fruit salad and carried the bagel and coffee with her. “Be back in a jiff.”
She made short work of the shower, threw on jeans, a turtleneck, a fleece, and her sneakers, and hustled back downstairs. When she got there, all the food had been put away, and Diana was in the kitchen talking to a really tall, thirty-something man dressed in ripped jeans, a flannel shirt, and work boots.
“Brooke, this is Trent. Trent, this is Brooke,” Diana said. “Aunt Nora hired Trent as a teenager to watch over this place for her.”
“Yes, ma’am. Miss Nora had me doing odd jobs at first, yard work mostly. Then I graduated to fixing things when they broke. Then I started working for a general contractor to learn the trades. When I told Miss Nora about it, she paid for me to go to a trade school and get my plumbing and electrical licenses. Now, I’m a general contractor myself.”
He puffed out his chest, obviously proud of his progression. Brooke thought him utterly charming. And how in character for Nora to nurture a young man in whom she saw promise.
“Trent helped do all the remodeling. He installed the upgraded plumbing, brought everything up to code, and updated the heating and electrical systems.”