by Jadie Jones
The house sits atop the hillcrest, surveying the flawless land like a fortress to its kingdom. House is an understatement. Mansion is an understatement. What do you call this thing? A castle?
A diagonal divide slices through the driveway as the cobblestone changes to some kind of shiny marble. The fiery-colored rock resembles the surface of the sun. The driveway loops in front of the spectacular stone house and doubles back on itself, leading back to the tree-lined entrance. An ornate fountain made of copper and the same rust-colored stone babbles in the center of the circle drive.
“Is that fire real?” I ask as I do a double-take.
A metallic statue of a woman spins smoothly in the center of a stone ring. Water flows from one hand, and some kind of liquid flame drips from the other. Steam rises from the pool beneath her as the drops of fire are extinguished at her submerged feet.
“You should see it at night,” is all Vanessa says about it.
Someone pinch me.
Vanessa stops the car behind a black truck, which still has a temporary dealership tag on the back. I nod appreciatively at the make and model. A new Ford F-150. She doesn’t strike me as the truck type. It’s probably Dr. Andrews’s. I wonder if he’ll let me drive it.
I open my door as Vanessa pulls the key out of the ignition. Land rises and falls around us like a wind-swept ocean. Her spectacular house claims the highest hilltop for miles. And she was worried about neighbors?
“You have a lot of land.” I say. It’s a gross understatement.
“Almost a thousand acres. It’s been in my family for a very long time.”
“What do you do with it?” I’ve never met someone with so much land. With so much, period.
“Enjoy it. And let it be,” she says.
I can’t think of an answer that would sound better than that.
“Your home is . . . unbelievable.”
“Our home, Tanzy. For as long as you want.”
“Thank you. There aren’t words, really.” My eyes drop to the glittering red marble beneath my feet. My worn boots look ridiculous against such an exquisite backdrop.
“There’s no need to thank me.”
“I’ll find a way to repay you. I’m actually pretty handy, if you need anything fixed.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I want you to be here. You’re my friend and I want to take care of you. We’re two of a kind, you and I.”
Something in those words makes me uneasy, but I can’t put a finger on why. You’re just not used to relying on anyone. The thought instantly makes me feel more settled.
“Are you hungry? I’m starved,” Vanessa says from a few feet ahead of me, snapping me out of my fog.
“Lunch sounds good, actually,” I answer absently as I shake off the lingering doubt. I’m not the least bit hungry, but doing something normal sounds like a good idea.
“We’ll eat and then I’ll take you on a tour,” she says, and I fall into step behind her.
“I like the truck.”
“I’m glad you like it. I got it for you,” Vanessa says without turning around.
Her simple words make me freeze. “For me? Why?”
“Dana told me. About your dad’s truck. That it wasn’t salvageable after the fire. I thought this would make you feel more at home. If you had something that reminded you.”
Dad. How long has it been since I’ve thought about him? The thought hurts like a punch in the stomach. I draw in a ragged breath and blink back the tears that come immediately. “This is too much.”
“Please, don’t be upset. This is something I wanted to do,” she says as she moves back to me.
“It’s not that. I mean, it is partly that. I don’t know.” She waits and watches my face as I sort out what I’m trying to say. “I’m just not used to anything like this.”
“No one has taken care of you in a while,” Vanessa says. “Life isn’t supposed to be as hard as you’ve had it. I’ve been very fortunate in my life, and I love being able to give something back.”
Her face and words are solemn. She makes me want to believe them. I take a step toward the brand new truck. My truck. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” I run my hands over the smooth hood.
“It’s unlocked, so feel free to check it out. If you don’t like it—” My sharp glare cuts her off. She smiles as I take a mock defensive stance between her and the truck. “Okay, good. Take your time. I’m going to get lunch ready.”
Vanessa strides to the mansion and slips through a pair of tall glass doors. I watch them click shut and then turn back to the truck. Unbelievable. I can’t wait to tell Dana about this. I gently pull open the driver’s side door. The rich scent of the calfskin leather interior makes me giddy as I breathe it in. The elaborate dashboard is equipped with all the bells and whistles. She didn’t spare a penny. My eyes land on stitched cursive that runs across the chair-backs of both front seats. The letters make my breath stop in my throat. “Hightower” is embroidered perfectly on each chair. I rest against the seat as I trace the letters of my name.
Memories of my father fill every inch of the truck. I can picture exactly the way he would sit in the driver’s seat. I know what radio station he would pick and how he would adjust the mirrors. I know that he would use the far cup holder because he would complain about bumping the close one with his knee.
Suddenly, I can hardly breathe and I need out of the truck. I hop out like it’s on fire and slam the door closed. Get a grip. Pull yourself together, Tanzy. A strong wind whips across the foothills. Miles away, dark clouds grow on the horizon. The coming storm feels like a warning sign. This is way too good to be true. I shove my hands into the worn back pockets of Dana’s jeans and try to ignore the gnawing uncertainty.
“People dream of a life like this,” I scold myself under my breath as I stride to the grand entrance. The sound of my voice reassures me a little. I pause long enough to fish the ring out of the plastic bag and slip it back on, concentrating on how grateful I was for Vanessa’s companionship at the hospital. Her understanding.
We’re two of a kind. I repeat it to myself all the way to the engraved front doors.
“Perfect timing.” Vanessa’s voice echoes from somewhere deeper in the house as I close the door behind me.
The wood floors shine a dark mahogany and pay expert complement to the rich green walls that seem to climb skyward forever. A pale green, marble staircase carves a slow spiral along the cylindrical foyer wall. The stone railing chills my fingertips as I slide them along the detailed engraving that runs along the top of the solid banister.
“It’s jade,” Vanessa explains from behind me. I hadn’t heard her approach. Her bare feet are a bright contrast to the dark floor.
“Oh, sorry.” I quickly kneel to untie my boots.
“It’s not a rule or anything. Just a personal preference.”
“You?”
“Only in my own home.” She winks and turns back to wherever she came from.
Luxurious velvet curtains drape the length of the towering walls and puddle on the cool floor. These ceilings must be twenty feet high. Original artwork is perfectly centered between each pair of covered windows. We cut through a spacious oval shaped room. The curve of the wall is made out of glass. An intricate oriental rug takes up most of the floor space and feels impossibly lush under my bare feet.
“This is my favorite room,” Vanessa says.
“I can see why,” I whisper back. I can’t help but stare at the grandeur of every detail as we wind our way deeper into her home. My home.
“We’ll gawk after we eat,” Vanessa jokes without turning around.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I say.
“It takes some getting used to. But you will in time.” She steps aside and motions me ahead of her into a kitchen fit for the castle. “I hope sandwiches are okay. I’m not much of a cook.”
“Sounds great,” I respond in an awed whisper. The afternoon sun filters through the windows that stripe
the quartz wall and casts streaks of light across the marble island. Two places are already set. We each claim a barstool and a plate.
“Welcome home,” she says and raises her glass.
“Thank you,” I smile. The clink of our glasses makes a little echo in the lofty space. “Do you ever get lonely here?”
“Sometimes. Actually, a lot. Does it make more sense now? Me wanting you here?”
“I think so. My old house felt big and lonely sometimes, and it could fit in your kitchen.”
Vanessa throws her head back with a burst of laughter. “So, you see, you’re helping me too.”
I’ve never seen her so carefree. “Dr. Andrews works a lot?”
“He does. And this time of the year is always busier than usual. But it’s better. When he’s not here.”
“Why do you let him stay? I mean the house is yours, right? Why not just kick him out?”
“Not everything is black and white. It’s more complicated than that.”
“Do you love him?”
“That’s not a simple question either.”
“It sounds simple to me.”
“This coming from the girl who just had her first real kiss? I’d love to hear what you think you know about love.” Her words come out like a bark. Vanessa narrows her green eyes as she glares at me and then at her sandwich. She puts it down without taking a bite.
“Sorry, I crossed a line.”
“My life is an open book for you, Tanzy, except for one thing. My marriage is off limits. I know I told you some personal things earlier, but it would be better if from here on out we leave my marriage alone.”
“Of course,” I answer automatically. I would’ve agreed to anything she said if it meant this side of her would go away and the Vanessa I know would come back.
Then again, do I actually know her at all? Not really. Maybe it was a mistake to come here.
“Good. I appreciate it,” she says.
A sudden clanging sound pierces the uncomfortable silence and makes me jump so hard that I almost fall off of my bar stool.
“It’s probably David,” Vanessa mumbles and moves for an old fashioned black phone on the far end of the counter.
“I’m going to go outside for a minute,” I mouth to her as she picks up the receiver. She nods, a new heaviness settling on her face. My lips press into a firm line as I consider making sure she’s okay, but she turns her back to me as she starts her conversation. Her marriage is off limits. She wouldn’t need to tell me twice.
The temperature has dropped considerably in the short time we spent inside. Of course I can’t tell if the shiver that passes through me has to do with the air outside or what just happened between Vanessa and me. I walk to the black truck and lean against the front bumper. If I knew where the keys were I’d be tempted to go for a drive. A long drive. Maybe all the way to Kentucky. My ears burn with shame at the thought. Travis Hightower did not raise an ungrateful daughter.
I turn away from the truck and walk around the side of the house. The hills are steeper in the back. Warning clouds have closed the distance between the house and the horizon. At this high altitude the clouds seem just out of reach. I stand on my tip toes, extending my raised arm a bit further. But they still elude my touch.
“I’m having an affair.”
I drop my arm and whirl to face Vanessa. Long golden strands of hair whip across her face as the wind picks up.
“Do you think less of me?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. About earlier. I’ve been really stressed about the whole thing. I mean, if David ever found out . . . I took it out on you.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You were only trying to support me. It’s just a very complicated situation. One I shouldn’t have gotten myself into.” She clasps her bare arms in front of her chest.
“I think we’re in for a good storm,” I offer, moving my gaze to the angry sky.
“So you’re not going to ask me?”
“About what? The affair?” I ask.
She nods without turning to face me.
“No. You’ll tell me what you want to. That’s your business,” I say. And I mean it.
“Thank you. For understanding. I know my life seems extravagant, but it’s not easy.”
“Easy? Nothing about this looks easy. It’s a lot to maintain.”
“Yes. Yes, it is,” she says, clearly appreciative. “Come inside. I’ve got some hot water on.” She motions toward the back entrance, which is carved into the glittering black stone wall.
I’m sure it’s just as gorgeous as everything else about this place. But all I can see is her right palm, which is bare. No horseshoe. No nothing. Just a plain hand. It’s gone. I don’t expect the panic that gives my heart a squeeze. I thought I’d be thrilled the minute those things went away. But they’re why I’m here. That’s what brought Vanessa and me together. Maybe they’ll come back. I can’t believe I want them to. But I do.
I don’t say anything about it as we fix our tea and then walk from room to room, each more extraordinary than the next. Instead, I make too many comments about how much I appreciate the décor. Vanessa leads me into a great study. Books line the set-in shelves that climb the treacherous height of the cylindrical room.
“See, kindred spirits,” she says as she shows me a life-sized black marble statue of a horse.
His head is raised; his still eyes defiant. The stone radiates warmth and life. I almost expect him to snort in annoyance. I move toward him and reach out to see if he feels as real as he looks.
“Don’t touch him!” Her words come out in such a rush that I draw back my hand like I’ve been burned. “Sorry. He’s very valuable. And the stone he’s made of is very porous. Any oil from our fingertips would decrease his worth tremendously.”
Vanessa continues down the hall, but I chance a last glimpse of the black horse. His smooth ears seem to be pricked harder than before, more focused. His gleaming eyes are trained on mine. You’re just imagining things because she made such a big deal about it. I hurry to catch up to Vanessa. She chatters on about importing the jade for the banister during a recent remodel as we climb the long, curved staircase.
“I picked out a room for you and put your clothes in it, but there are plenty of other rooms to choose from, so let me know if you’d like to switch.”
She swings open the heavy door and steps aside, bidding me to enter ahead of her. The walls are made of an ocean blue stone. The deep color is endless and satisfying. A king-size bed commands the center of the room, its four-poster frame draped in sheer, white curtains.
“Wow.” My shock escapes my mouth in a whisper. My ears hum as my mind hears Vanessa keep a lewd joke about Ryan and the size of the bed to herself.
“I heard that.” I flash her a grin.
Her face twists in confusion until I raise my hand and show her the ring.
“Do I get points for not saying it out loud?” she asks, clearly excited.
Sure. Why not? I think back to her. She claps her hands in delight.
“It’s working!”
“I can’t believe that these are for real.” I glance down at the ring. It’s already starting to hurt again.
“Can we practice tonight?”
“Sure,” I say, still bewildered.
“I need to take care of a few phone calls, so why don’t you get settled. If you need anything come find me,” she says.
The burning sensation intensifies and I blink back a wince. “Sounds good.” I turn to face her, but she’s already gone.
Immediately, I try to yank off the ring. But it’s stuck. My finger throbs as I wiggle the band back and forth until it finally crests the thickest part of my knuckle and slides off. Relieved, I shake the sting out of my hand and look for a safe place to store it until tonight.
A little ivory table sits beside the bed. I carefully run a finger across the oval table top. The material is soft and hard at the s
ame time. Almost like weathered bone. Maybe it is, I think with a laugh. Nothing seems impossible in Vanessa’s world. I set the ring down on the table and turn my attention to the canopy bed. The comforter feels like I imagine clouds do; like I could sink into them forever and never find the bottom. I double-check to make sure I’m alone, push the curtains aside, and leap, spread-eagle, into the middle of the giant bed.
“Definitely cloud like,” I say to myself as I roll onto my back.
My body feels adrift, and I can’t help but wonder at the thought of Lucas in my bed. Of the weight of him. I close my eyes, holding tight to the thought, and let the world fall away.
11 Surprise
Pale morning light filters through the sheer white curtain, casting an ethereal glow in my new room. Morning? I bolt upright.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Vanessa calls from the cracked doorway.
“Hey. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I slept all the way through. I am a really great house guest, huh?” I scold myself as I run my fingers through my tangled hair.
“Tanzy, you’re fine. I know how uncomfortable hospital beds are. I’m sure you haven’t gotten a solid night’s sleep in weeks,” she says as she crosses the room and sits down beside me.
My hand catches on a knot and I look down to work it out. A thick snarl is caught on the band of my ring. I don’t remember putting that on.
“I treated it for you,” Vanessa says and motions toward my finger.
“Why? When?” Instinctively, I lean away from her. My eyes dart from the ring to her face and back.
“I ran some errands yesterday evening and stopped by a jewelry store. I told them about how sensitive your skin was and they offered to seal the metal with something hypoallergenic. Since our rings are the same size I just had them do mine and then I took yours.” She shows me her hand.