by Robin Roseau
“What was with the kiss from Patty?”
“I told her I thought about the shirt for her. She’d have worn it with pride and somehow have made it look stylish besides. She decided to tease me back. She surprised the crap out of me.”
“You know, of all of you, she’s the warmest when I kiss her. The rest of you are uptight, and I don’t kiss Frank. But she kisses me back, and she makes it linger, not just a quick peck. Maybe you should have given it to her.”
“No. Unlike Frank, Patty is very sure who she is.”
“And I’m not?” she asked.
“I think you are having a great deal of fun coming out of your cocoon, Dolores. I think you’re just discovering yourself.”
“I like what I’m discovering,” she said. She stood up. “I’m wearing your skirt home. If you want it back, you have to come to breakfast tomorrow. Otherwise I’m keeping it.”
“I’ll be there.”
* * * *
I had finished the project for MetaWolf. I was no longer, at least for now, reporting to Solange in a professional capacity. It was the evening, two weeks later, that I picked up my cell and called her.
“Sidney Welsh!” she said as she answered. Her voice was low, deep, and welcoming.
“Hello, Solange,” I said. “Did I catch you at a good time?”
“Of course. I just had a late bite, but I was finished.”
“I hope you don’t mind my calling.”
“Of course not.” She paused. “This isn’t a professional call, is it?”
“No.”
“Oh, even better,” she said. I could hear her smile.
“I was wondering, if you weren’t seeing anyone, whether you would let me take you to dinner.”
“Are you inviting me on a date?” she asked.
“Yes, Solange, I am.”
“I would love to have dinner with you, Sidney,” she replied. “When did you have in mind?”
“This weekend?” I asked.
“Friday is better than Saturday, if you don’t mind if it’s a little later, but I can make Saturday work as well.”
“Is seven too early?”
“Not at all. Where shall I meet you?”
“Would you allow me to pick you up? Or does that require too much running around for you.”
“Perhaps you would like to know where I live before you make an offer like that, Sidney,” she said. “I have a home in Orono. It’s a little isolated.”
“Let me see if I can make eight PM reservations at Gambol’s,” I suggested. “Or were you hinting you’d rather not have me pick you up?”
“No hinting involved,” she replied. “But perhaps you will allow me to make the reservations. They know me at Gambol’s. I’ll pull a string or two.”
“Are you going to fight me for the check?”
She laughed. “Not at all. I’ll email the address. Seven PM would be lovely.”
We chatted briefly for a few minutes before clicking off. I was already excited.
Dinner with Solange
I came to a stop, staring at the entrance. She didn’t have a house. She had an entire estate. There was a gate flanked by two brick pillars and a ten-foot, wrought iron fence extending in both directions. Through the gate, there was a tree-lined drive leading to a house I could barely see, but I was sure was enormous.
“Holy shit,” I said. “And she accepted a dinner offer from me?”
I was wearing a deep amethyst embroidered sheath dress and a pair of open toe sling back heels. I’d spent forever getting ready, but looking at Solange’s home, I was having a serious case of inadequacy. I stared for a moment then pulled into the space before the gate, coming to a stop beside the security kiosk housing an intercom system. The kiosk also housed a camera, and I saw two more flanking the gate, pointed at me. I reached out and pressed the button.
A male voice answered immediately. “Good evening. What may we do for you?”
“It’s Sidney Welsh here to see Solange Casper. Do I have the correct location?”
“You do, Ms. Welsh,” the disembodied voice replied. “You are expected. Pull straight through and park under the portico.”
“Thank you,” I replied. A moment later, the gate before me began to roll open.
I drove forward slowly, coming around two gentle curves until I could see the entire house. I came to another stop and stared.
“Holy shit,” I said again. Solange’s house resembled an English country home. Most of the house appeared to be two stories tall, but the end sections were three stories instead of two. The portico was halfway down the house, with apparent wings on either side. The exterior appeared to be stone. The flat roof was ringed by a stone parapet.
I shook my head and moved forward, coming to a stop under the portico. Based on the house, I expected to be met by a butler or footman. Instead, Solange herself was standing in the doorway by the time I climbed from the car. She stepped forward, and I waited for her.
“Do I curtsey, m’lady?” I asked.
She laughed. “I know, I know,” she said. “Don’t let it intimidate you. The money has been in my family for hundreds of years. In a moment of self-gratification, I had this built to resemble a home that used to be in the family, as well. That home burned down a century and a half ago, and it amused me to reconstruct it.”
I looked around then turned back to face her. “I asked you to dinner.”
“Oh Sidney,” she replied. “This-” she waved in the general direction of the house, “is just an ostentatious display of wealth. I’m not impressed by money. I’m impressed by the mettle of a woman. I like your mettle, Sidney. Please, I’ll be very upset if you let this intimidate you.”
She stepped closer while she was talking, and she had her hand on my cheek by the time she was done.
“All right? I want to have a nice time tonight.”
I nodded.
“Good,” she said, caressing my cheek with her fingers as she withdrew her hand.
I looked around again. “So. Do we have time for a tour?”
She glanced at my feet. “How about a short walk on the grounds? We can step through the house and walk down to the lake. We have time for a drink, and then we can go.”
“That would be lovely, although I don’t drink and drive.”
“Soft drink? Tea?”
“A soft drink would be nice,” I said.
She gestured, and as I came even with her, she took my arm, leading me into the house.
There was what I would consider a small foyer and another door leading into the house itself. We came to a stop, and Solange allowed me to look. It was quite grand. The ceiling was twenty feet over our heads. It was open directly in front of me, leading deeper into the house, but there were sweeping staircases on either side, leading to the second floor.
“On the main floor are the entertaining and business portions of the house,” Solange explained. “When I had it built, I took liberties with the interior of the house. I kept the architecture and the overall feel of the original, but it is actually somewhat smaller, and I reorganized the rooms to better suit the location. For instance, in the original, there was a library there.” She pointed to our left. “But I like sitting in the library, and so I wanted the best view, so I put it in the back of the house, looking out at the lake. But I left the ballroom where it was.” She pointed left. “I don’t know why I even did it this way. I thought I would be entertaining with lavish balls, but instead I work all the time, and I don’t take the time to do it.”
She tugged on my arm, and we stepped forward, coming to an open set of double doors in the middle of a glass-lined wall. Beyond the glass, I could see a huge dining room, and beyond that, more glass with a view of the lake.
“This is different from the original,” she explained. “The dining room was here, with the kitchen there.” She pointed left. “I kept that. But they wouldn’t have had glass like this back then. But I like this.”
“It’s stunning
, Solange,” I agreed.
“We can step through the dining room onto the back patio.” She tugged, and we moved forward. Everything was very lavish.
“There’s a smaller, less formal dining room closer to the kitchen. I’ve never used this room. Pity.”
“Why not?”
“That’s a long story I’ll share some time.”
I nodded and didn’t pry.
She led me to the other wall, which was all glass doors. She released my arm and opened two of them. She had to put her weight into them, and I realized they were very thick and heavy.
“These are all doors, and they can be left open. I had thought we would have open air dinners.” She shook her head. “Hubris. Sidney, this is all hubris.”
“No, Solange,” I said. “It’s ostentatious, yes, but I think a dinner party here would be amazing. You don’t like to entertain?”
“I used to.” She paused, turning to me. “I don’t want to talk too much about this, but there was someone in my life very important to me when I first envisioned this house. She was no longer part of my life by the time I built it, but I thought of her the entire time I was designing it. Do you understand?”
“That’s very romantic, Solange,” I said.
“She was the entertainer in our relationship, and she would have filled this place every weekend, if I were to let her. And if I complained about the cost, she would have found a way to do it on a budget besides.”
“She sounds amazing.”
“She was.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe someday I’ll tell you more about her, but I don’t want you to ask.”
“Of course.”
She stepped forward again, taking my arm, and she led me onto the back patio, back outside. Ahead of us was one of the bays of Lake Minnetonka, only about a football field or two away.
“Holy shit, Solange.”
“I know, I know.” She led me forward, and soon we were following a path through the gardens. She led me all the way to the lake. There were chairs waiting for us, and to our right, a small building. I realized it was a tiki bar. I laughed.
“It doesn’t really fit the neighborhood,” I said.
She laughed with me. “I know. I hired someone to make it, and I didn’t exactly describe what I wanted. Then I was gone when he built it. But you know? I like it.” She released my arm and stepped into the bar area. “We have almost everything. What would you like?”
“If you don’t entertain, why do you keep a tiki bar stocked with almost everything?”
“For the staff,” she explained. “What would you like?” she asked again.
“Diet Seven-up? Something along those lines.”
“Coming right up.” She poured two drinks for us, exiting the bar and holding mine out to me. Then she gestured, and we moved forward to sit on the chairs, angled towards each other but facing out over the lake. I looked across the water to see a few boats, but it was largely quiet. Lake Minnetonka is a big lake, but it is filled with bays, and this one was fairly isolated.
I sipped from my drink then turned to see Solange watching me. She had her glass to her mouth as well but was watching me over the top of it.
“Why did you accept?” I blurted. I hadn’t meant to ask. It was such a self-deprecating statement.
“The right question to ask is why I let you beat me to it, Sidney. I’ve been thinking about you. Now, tell me something about yourself I don’t know.”
“Did you hire a private investigator to dig into my secrets?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Then you don’t know about this.” I told her about the card parties. She laughed with delight when I described the booby prizes.
“And if I came to one of your card parties and played poorly, what sort of booby prize would you have waiting for me?”
“Oh, let me see,” I said. “Something gaudy, perhaps. Costume jewelry. Something large and atrocious.” I smiled. “Or perhaps a tight, tight tee shirt that says something like ‘Blood Sucking Lawyer’ across the chest.” I gestured in emphasis. “And tacky Daisy Duke short-shorts.”
“And you would expect to secure photographic evidence of my embarrassment besides?”
“Absolutely.” I smiled sweetly. “Scared yet?”
“Not at all. I am already wondering how to secure an invitation. Of course, we would need a pre-party to teach me the rules.”
I sighed.
“Did I say something wrong? You are disappointed I don’t know this game?”
“No.” I paused. “I am going to have to expand.”
“Expand?”
I explained about the sweet spot for cooking.
“Perhaps I should uninvite myself.”
“No. I’m looking forward to seeing the newbie wearing something I picked out for her.”
“This sounds like a problem you are well able to solve, but if not, perhaps we will solve it together at some point.”
I smiled. “We haven’t gotten through this date and we’re talking about future dates?”
She returned the smile. “There will be future dates, Sidney, if my house doesn’t scare you away.”
I looked over my shoulder at the house then back at her. “I’m not that easily frightened.”
“Good. We should get moving. You may leave that there.” She gestured to a small table. We both rose, set down our glasses, and she took my arm. I set my opposite hand on hers, and she interlaced our fingers together while maintaining possession of my arm.
We stepped through the house, but when we got to my car, I handed her in and closed the door. She smiled up to me as I did it, and she had her seat buckled by the time I climbed in. I circled around the portico and headed towards the entrance. As I approached, the gate began opening.
“How-”
“Thomas is paying attention,” she said.
“Thomas is the guard?”
“Thomas is the everything,” she said. “Do you know where we’re going, or do you need me to give directions.”
“I followed the GPS to get here.”
“Take a right,” she indicated.
I was still flustered from seeing her house. Until I had driven up, I’d been full of confidence, but my poise was gone, and I struggled to get it back. Solange talked as I drove, giving directions until we reached roads I knew better. I let her believe I was focusing on the unfamiliar streets rather than admit just how out of sorts I felt.
But then I asked her, “So, I told you something about me that you didn’t know. Your turn.”
“All right,” she said. “I’ve never ridden a bicycle. I don’t even know how.”
“How does someone get through childhood without learning how to ride a bicycle?”
“Over-protective parents,” she said.
“Why did you pick that fact?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It was just something random.”
“I get most of my exercise from biking,” I said. “I have different bikes for different conditions.”
I glanced over at her, and she was watching me. “Would you teach me?”
“I’d love to, Solange,” I said. “How is your sense of balance?”
“Excellent,” she said. “Is it hard to learn?”
“I have no idea. I was four. Some kids learn on a bicycle with training wheels, but I didn’t have a bike. One of my friends taught me to ride his bike. We started in his driveway and went downhill, across the street, and into the driveway across the street. I remember that, but I don’t remember how many times I fell. Are you afraid of falling?”
“No. I downhill ski. Do you?”
“No. I’ve never been a thrill seeker.”
“It’s not for the thrill. Skydiving is for the thrill. Okay, sometimes I like the speed, but usually I ski more slowly and work on control.”
“You live on a lake. Do you water ski?”
“I have a boat for it. And a fishing boat, but I never use it. You?”
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br /> “I’ve never been. Well, I’ve been on boats, but I’ve never tried water skiing, either.”
“Do you have interest?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I glanced at her. “I’m not sure I’m ready to make a fool of myself in front of you yet.”
“And yet I’m willing to fall off a bicycle in front of you.” She made it into a challenge.
“It’s going to take you about three minutes until you’re riding, and once you learn, it’s easy. How bad a skier would I be for years?”
I glanced over again, and her lips were pursed.
“Did I just disappoint you?” I asked quietly.
“No, not exactly.”
“That means yes.”
“Don’t you like trying new things?”
“I like going new places, and I love trying new foods.” I paused. “I didn’t grow up with money. I was young when my parents died.”
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know that.”
“I have money now, I guess. Not like you do, but enough I could do the things that might interest me. But I haven’t taken the time.” I glanced over. “They sound like things I’d do with someone else.”
“Are you just saying that because you’re worried I’m disappointed?”
“No. Dishonesty is no basis for anything.” I thought about it some more. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. This is the first date. We’re supposed to talk about inconsequential things while pretending they’re deep and meaningful.”
She laughed. “Yeah, that seems like a good description of both of us. We’re both afraid of getting to the truth of things. Name something you’d like to try.”
“I wouldn’t mind trying water skiing.”
“Wouldn’t mind isn’t the same thing as want to try.”
“All right,” I said. “Sure. That was me playing it cool. I’d be afraid of looking foolish, but if you were teaching me, I think I’d really enjoy it.”
She was quite for a minute then said, “Something else I haven’t mentioned.”
“All right, then your turn,” I said. “I’d like to visit Antarctica.”
She was silent, and when I glanced over, she was watching me.
“Trying to think of something?”
“Trying to decide if that counts in the game we’re playing,” she said. “I asked you about something you wanted to do. That’s somewhere you want to go. Technically, I’m not sure it counts.”