By Design

by J. A. Armstrong

  “And?”

  “Jinx ate it.”

  “Jinx?”

  “Her brother’s cat.”

  “Oh no,” Jameson said, trying to contain her laugh.

  “Oh yes. She cried for days. So sensitive, that one,” Pearl said affectionately.

  Jameson listened and couldn’t help but smile. “She loves this house,” Jameson said softly.

  “Yes, she does,” Pearl agreed. “Candy was her granddaddy’s baby; the apple of his eye. She followed him everywhere. He loved this old place. Had a story for every nook and cranny, he did. He was a good man,” Pearl said wistfully. “She told you a bit about him?”

  “She did,” Jameson said. “Actually, she told me a great deal about spending time here as a little girl; how she always hoped she’d raise her children here.”

  Pearl was surprised as she listened to Jameson recap some of the highlights of her conversations with Candace. Candace was an adept communicator, and she loved people, but she had become gradually more reserved in allowing people to get close to her over the years. Pearl wondered what it was about the architect that opened the senator up so quickly. Pearl set a cup of coffee in front of Jameson. “She would have loved to have this house for the kids. It has never meant to them what it does to her,” she stated a bit sadly. “For them, home is just a house. They don’t have those memories,” she continued. Pearl sighed. “They moved time and again. That was Jonathan. Bigger and bigger,” she said with a shake of her head. “Candace used to have to fight just to cook their dinners.”

  “Candace’s ex?” Jameson asked softly.

  “Indeed,” Pearl said. Jameson looked up at the older woman inquisitively. “They both came from prominent families,” Pearl said. “Jonathan’s employed a rather large staff. He was raised by nannies and housekeepers,” she explained. She winked at the unspoken question in Jameson’s eyes and laughed. “Governor Stratton had only two people in his employ, myself and Mr. Bridges, his driver. Honestly, neither of us did much,” she laughed. “Mrs. Stratton seldom allowed me to cook a meal by myself, and all of her children were expected to contribute to the household duties. I was only seventeen when I started with the Strattons,” she reminisced. “I could barely boil water.” Pearl smiled at Jameson. “That’s why Candy loved it here,” Pearl said. “There was always something to do, always something to explore. Candy’s father married a woman much like her husband turned out to be. That was never Candy’s way,” she explained. “She wanted to learn everything about everything. When her father was away; you could always find her here with her Granddad and Gram. I think it about killed her when they both left this world. And, then she lost her father. David had this house,” Pearl sighed deeply. “He didn’t require my services.”

  “He fired you?”

  Pearl chuckled. “Gracious no. David may be a bit spoiled, but he would never have dismissed his Pearlie,” she said. “Candy needed me more at that time. The kids were small, she was running for office. It made more sense for me to be there for her,” she said. “I was never so glad when David sold this house to her. I remember she walked through the house for hours that first day as if she needed to recall every moment.” Pearl winked at the architect. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Pearl?” Jameson called after the older woman. Pearl turned inquisitively. “What is her favorite room?”

  Pearl smiled. “That’s easy, her granddad’s study.”

  “Do you remember?” Jameson asked. “What it looked like then?”

  Pearl’s expression softened. “Governor Stratton never touched that room. It stayed the same until David changed it. The wallpaper was tattered from age. The Governor could never bring himself to change it. It reminded him of his father.” Pearl slipped into a memory. “She is so much like him,” she said softly. She sighed again as she recalled the older man. “Yes. It was ornate even in its disrepair. Orange and reds as I recall.”

  “Thank you, Pearl. I may be wandering about the house on and off,” Jameson said.

  Pearl nodded. She began to make her way out of the kitchen and turned back to see Jameson focused intently on her computer screen. The expression reminded her of Candy’s. She shook her head. “I wonder if either of them even see it,” she chuckled.

  Chapter Four: Kitchen Conversations

  “Everything is open to negotiation except birds and cats. No birds. No cats.” Jameson read the email and laughed. She snickered slightly and sent off a singular picture in response. Jameson waited for the reply. None came.

  “You did say anything was open to negotiation,” she fired off a short quip. Jameson loved toying with the senator. Their banter had lightened her days these last two weeks. In truth, she was keeping her promise to adhere as closely to the original style of the house as possible. She was certain that Candace knew that, but it seemed they both took great pleasure in this game. She was surprised that there was still no response from the senator. Normally, Candace had a quick retort. Senator Fletcher was a busy woman, and Jameson shrugged it off. There certainly would be more pressing matters for Candace to address than Jameson’s antics. She returned to her task of mapping out the kitchen so that she could design the addition off the back of the house. Jameson found herself musing that she was grateful that winter was upon them. It meant that any construction would have to wait. Secretly, that gave her an excuse to draw out this project longer than she needed to. Candace Fletcher intrigued her. The sound of the phone in the distance and Pearls’ voice interrupted her pondering.

  “Why are you calling the house phone? Don’t you have her number? Um-hum. Jameson!” Pearl’s voice rang through the house. Jameson walked sheepishly into the large living room. She pointed to herself as if to question Pearl’s need for her presence. Pearl shook her head and handed the phone to the architect. “It’s for you,” she said. “I don’t know what you did to get her to call home,” she chuckled.

  “Hello?” Jameson said tentatively.

  “Ms. Reid,” a stern voice came over the line.

  “Yes?”

  “You apparently did not pay much attention in American History class; did you?” Candace questioned as if cross-examining a witness.

  “I would beg to differ.”

  “Well, the evidence would suggest otherwise,” Candace replied.

  “You have evidence? I wasn’t aware that I was on trial.”

  “In which part of history did you find naked marble men the most prominent?” Jameson tried not to laugh at Candace’s attempt to drill her. “Ms. Reid?”

  “I suppose ancient. That would be Roman or Greek.”

  “Does my home look Roman or Greek to you?”

  “Actually, Senator; it does,” Jameson replied.

  “My Colonial American home appears Greek to you?”

  “Roman,” Jameson returned.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “No need to be sorry, Senator. You apparently skipped architecture as an elective,” Jameson snickered. “James Gibbs is credited with much of the English style your home reflects, as well as most notable buildings of the period.”

  “And he was Roman?”

  “No, he was Scottish, but he studied in Rome in the early eighteenth century and his designs reflect that Roman influence,” Jameson explained. “So, you see; as a point of fact; Roman statuary is actually a well-placed addition….particularly for one with as much reverence for history as you have, Senator Fletcher,” Jameson gloated. The continuing silence began to unnerve her slightly. “Senator?”

  “Well, aren’t you just the cat that ate the canary,” Candace replied.

  “No, as I understand it his name was Jinx.”

  Another moment of silence was finally broken by Candace’s roar of laughter. “You are a complete lunatic. Just how many skeletons have you discovered in my home?”

  “Only the ones Pearl is willing to unearth,” Jameson replied.

  “That does not bode well for me,” Candace sobered.

  “A
ctually, it bodes quite well for you,” Jameson replied sincerely. She and Candace had only had a few phone conversations over the last two weeks, but each had been enjoyable. Each time they had found a reason to speak; the conversation had naturally turned to discussing their days. And, each time they spoke, Jameson had found she would become spellbound by the senator’s stories and her voice. Jameson found Pearl’s nuggets about the senator endearing. The older woman had great affection for Candace. It was a sentiment that Jameson was beginning to understand intimately.

  Candace felt Jameson’s compliment lodge itself in her chest. She closed her eyes for a moment to quiet an unexpected rise of emotion. What was it about Jameson Reid that captivated her? She looked forward to Jameson’s emails. She realized as the silence lingered on the line, that when more than a few hours passed without any contact from the architect, she felt disappointed. She cleared her throat. “Don’t believe a word she says,” Candace said lightly.

  “I believe every word,” Jameson said. “So, no statuary, no birds, and no felines. Any specific requests?”

  “Chinese,” Candace replied.

  “You want me to decorate this house with an Asian influence?” Jameson asked skeptically.

  “No, I want Chinese food.”

  Jameson laughed. “I’m afraid I am a little far to deliver on that request.”

  “How long are you going to be occupying my kitchen?”

  “What?”

  “It’s a simple question, Jameson. How long can I expect you to be in my kitchen?”

  “Probably another few hours. Why?”

  “Do you have any specific requests?”

  Jameson was lost. “I don’t….”

  “For Chinese food,” Candace clarified. She started laughing. “I am sitting in the airport right now,” she explained. “I should be home in about two hours. I thought perhaps you could show me what you’ve been working on over dinner.”

  “I would love to.”

  “So; any requests?”

  “Surprise me,” Jameson said in challenge.

  Candace felt her face flush at the intended flirtation she detected. “Be careful what you wish for, Jameson.”

  “Sweet or spicy, Senator. I can handle it.”

  Candace chuckled. “Noted. I will see you in a couple of hours.”

  Jameson disconnected the call and stood staring at the phone in her hands. “Did I just flirt with Candace Fletcher? Oh my God; did she just flirt with me?” Jameson put the phone back in its cradle and wandered into the kitchen.

  Pearl looked up and saw the architect’s dazed expression. “You all right? She didn’t fire you; did she?” Pearl asked half-kidding, half-worried over the expression on Jameson’s face.

  “What? No, she’s bringing home Chinese.”

  Pearl pursed her lips in amusement. “Do you not like Chinese food?”

  “What? No. I….I need to put this all together to show her. She already thinks I’m crazy.”

  Pearl shook her head watching Jameson focus on her new task. “Oh, you’re crazy all right,” she thought. “Crazy about my Candy.”

  ***

  Jameson heard Candace’s voice as the front door opened and felt her heart pick up its pace. Suddenly, she felt like a high school girl waiting to be picked up for her first date. She hadn’t seen Candace since their first meeting. The prospect of being in the same room with the affable senator made her stomach flutter.

  Candace smiled at Pearl. “She’s in the kitchen,” Pearl said with a smirk.

  “You’ve been telling my secrets, Pearlie,” Candace mock scolded the older woman.

  “Only the good ones,” Pearl promised.

  “I’m sure,” Candace groaned playfully. “Jinx?” she asked. Pearl shrugged. “What other skeletons did you unearth for her?” Candace whispered.

  “Why? You trying to impress her?” Pearl returned.

  Candace pretended not to hear the older woman and headed for the kitchen. “Ms. Reid,” Candace greeted the architect formally.

  “Senator,” Jameson replied, unsuccessful in concealing an automatic grin.

  Candace momentarily thought her feet might have become rooted in the floor. Jameson’s smile lit her from within, and Candace was helpless not to react with a broad smile of her own. “Looking for more bird motifs to torture me with?” she asked.

  Jameson laughed. “No. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize dinner.”

  “I see. So, the way to keep you focused is to feed you Chinese take-out?”

  “No, I’m not that picky,” Jameson answered.

  “I guess that explains your affinity for my kitchen,” Candace replied as she set the bag on the table.

  “You need anything from me?” Pearl asked from the doorway.

  “Not at all,” Candace said. “Don’t you want to join us? I got chicken wings,” she attempted to entice the older woman with a carton. “And fortune cookies.”

  Pearl shook her head. “No, thanks. I will leave you two to your evening,” she said. “Go easy on that,” she warned Candace.

  “Worried about my girlish figure?” Candace asked, pulling a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator.

  “No,” Pearl pointed to the bottle in Candace’s hand. “Worried Jameson will have to carry your girlish figure upstairs when you finish that bottle,” she winked.

  Candace pursed her lips. “Don’t listen to her,” she said to Jameson. “A glass of wine and she thinks I’m an alcoholic.”

  “Ha!” Pearl waved off the younger woman as Jameson listened on. “Hardly. Watch her with that, Jameson. She can hold her liquor just fine. Wine….”

  “Enough of you,” Candace laughed. “That was one time and I was seventeen.”

  “Oh? What about that time at your Christmas party when Rach….”

  Candace made her way swiftly to her friend and covered Pearl’s mouth with her hand. “Don’t you have some place you need to be?” she asked.

  Pearl shook her head when Candace removed her hand. “So eager for me to leave? I thought you wanted me to stay and share your fortune cookies,” Pearl quipped. Candace just chuckled. “Just watch her,” Pearl called back to Jameson as Candace gently nudged her from the room. Pearl turned to Candace and kissed her on the cheek. “Have a good night,” she said with a wink.

  Candace rolled her eyes as Pearl headed out the door. “Incorrigible,” she mumbled as she made her way back to Jameson. “So? Chinese food and Early American décor; would you like some wine with that?” she asked the architect.

  “Depends,” Jameson answered.

  “On?”

  “How heavy are you?”

  Candace looked at Jameson in disbelief for a moment and then laughed. “I promise you, Jameson; it will take more than a couple of glasses of wine for me to get carried off to the bedroom.”

  Jameson smiled. “I’ll make a note.”

  ***

  “What do you think?” Jameson asked. Candace looked at the pictures on Jameson’s laptop screen in amazement. Her inability to answer began to alarm Jameson. “If you don’t like something…”

  “What?” Candace jumped. “Jameson….it’s….I’m just amazed that you were able to put this much together in such a short time.”

  “It’s what I do,” Jameson said humbly. “You gave me a lot to work with and Pearl has been immensely helpful.” Candace nodded silently. Jameson watched a myriad of emotions flicker in the senator’s expression. “Candace?” she asked softly in concern. Candace sighed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  Candace released another small sigh and then looked at Jameson. The genuine concern that reflected in the architect’s eyes touched her. Jameson held the senator’s gaze firmly but compassionately, and Candace finally smiled. “Nothing is wrong,” she said. “Pearl loves this old place as much as I do,” she said.

  “I know,” Jameson replied. “She loves you more.”

  “Yes, she does,” Candace agreed. “She’s always been like my mother. I think i
f I were to be honest,” Candace closed her eyes in an effort to compose herself. She felt Jameson’s hand on top of hers and took a deep breath. “If I were to be honest; she may not have given birth to me, but she really is the only mother I have ever known.”

  Jameson listened attentively. She could feel the emotional burst emanating from Candace. The declaration did not surprise her. Jameson had spent enough time with Pearl to have gained an understanding of the unique relationship she shared with Senator Candace Fletcher. She was certain that there were a great many details about both women that she had yet to learn. Jameson tightened her grip on Candace’s hand gently as the senator continued.

  “My mother was a debutante in every sense of that word. She’s eighty, and she still thinks she is a sixteen-year-old at some ball,” Candace said with a chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong; she is my mother. I love her, but Pearl is…”

  “I think I understand,” Jameson interjected. Candace looked at Jameson hopefully. Jameson was sure she could detect a moniker of both guilt and fear in the older woman’s eyes. She could not remove her gaze from Candace. She felt her thumb begin to stroke Candace’s hand in reassurance. She was positive she noticed a slight hitch in the senator’s breathing. “I don’t think biology defines family,” Jameson said. “It certainly doesn’t define love.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Candace replied in a whisper. She stayed locked in Jameson’s gaze for a moment. Candace’s head felt the urge pull away, but her heart desperately wanted to move closer to the architect. She smiled weakly and pulled her hand away to retrieve their plates. “I should pick this up,” she said.

  Jameson closed her eyes. She was positive that Candace had felt the gravity of the connection between them. She wasn’t at all certain how to bridge the gap that she was afraid may have just widened. Composing herself, she made her way to the sink to help. “Let me help,” she offered. Candace nodded with an appreciative smile. Jameson began to assist in cleaning up from their dinner. They worked silently but efficiently in tandem. Jameson was surprised as the last container was thrown away that she felt content in their continued silent companionship. She closed her computer and stowed it in its bag. “I should let you get some rest,” Jameson said a bit reluctantly.