Page 13 of Halstead House

Maybe number three needed to be to find a therapist and ask if this roller coaster of thought, this wanting the old while aching for the new, was normal.

With the kitchen closed for the day, I decided I’d hunt down breakfast on the touristy main strip. I sat at the desk in my room and made a to-do list for the day before slipping into khaki slacks and a loose button-down blouse. My one nod to a beachy day off was a pair of strappy sandals. With my hair pulled back perfectly, makeup artfully applied, and power suit slung over my arm, I was ready to head out.

Opting for the main stairway, I paused two floors down to let the colored light coming through the stained-glass window tickle my eyes. I took advantage of any chance I got to linger here. The grand staircase was two full stories high, and the window made the most of it, standing a regal twenty feet. The colored glass scene was that of a family in a garden, surrounded by roses, sitting on the grass. Father and Mother leaned close while their three children lounged at their feet. After so many years of seeing it in pictures, the reality of it had left me speechless. I had fallen in love with the vibrant greens, reds, and blues, but especially with the softer colors woven throughout that had been lost in the photographs. It was a powerful work of art that made a simple statement about the value of family.

“Where you off to today, Grace?” Ana called from the grand foyer below, causing me to turn and look down the last flight of stairs toward her happily upturned face.

After only a few days it was unusual to see her without a couple of people following her and taking her orders. I’d learned that Ana was over the smooth running of the entire household. Lou and Marshall technically reported to her, along with a staff of a half dozen day workers who worked on anything from cleaning, to gardening, to grocery shopping, and helping Lou with food preparation. It all fell under Ana. She was young, probably only a couple of years older than me, but she bore the responsibility well and the household felt cheerful and alive under her hand. So different from the cold way I was raised.

This morning she was dressed casually in shorts and a tank, with what looked to be swim suit straps peeking out. She had flip flops on her feet and sunglasses propped up on her head. A big beach bag was hanging from one slender shoulder. She looked like a beach day postcard.

I smiled and descended the stairs. “Dry cleaners first. Then I have a list of errands.”

Her brow puckered. “A list?”

“Yes, a list. I have several things to do today.” I nodded as I came to stand near her.

“This is your first full day off.”

“Which is why I have a list of errands,” I confirmed.

“Who makes lists for their day off?” Now her lips pursed.

That familiar feeling of being somehow different from everyone else clogged my throat, and I resisted the urge to clear it or cough. “I’m sure Eliza makes lists,” I defended, unwilling to admit that I’d been practicing the fine art of making lists since learning to write.

“Well, of course. She’s a Halstead. They practically invented list making. The rest of us islanders wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yes, but I’m not an islander.” That bright realization made the tension woosh out. It was okay. I was different because I was from a different place. “If only you could meet my mother.”

Ana sighed. “Fair enough. Let me see it.”

“What?”

She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “This important list of yours.” I opened my purse and carefully retrieved the rose-colored stationary. Ana was shaking her head before even taking a look at it. “This is very disappointing,” she said while looking over what I’d written.

“Did I forget something?”

“Yes. You did.” Ana looked up at me as the side of her mouth lifted. “You forgot to have some fun.” She tore the list into pieces and tucked them into the pocket of her shorts before I could react. My mouth opened and my eyes grew round, but no words came out. “Don’t worry, I tucked the scraps in my pocket so they wouldn’t litter the foyer.” Ana grinned broadly. “This will never do for your first full, uninterrupted day here.”

“But, Ana, I...”

“You can shop after work another day. Today is too perfect to pass up. We’re going to the beach.”

I felt like my feet had been knocked out from beneath me. “I’m not dressed for that, and this dry cleaning must be taken in.”

“No problem. I’ll have Derek take it with Eliza’s things tomorrow.”

“I can’t possibly let you charge it to the household accounts.” My face heated at the very idea.

“Did I say I was going to charge it to the house? No. I said I’d have it dropped off tomorrow. You can pick it up on your own time and pay with your own money.” Ana put her hands on her hips and gave me a look.

“I... ” I blinked a few times.

“You what?”

“I...” My lips pursed in an effort to keep my amusement from showing. “You sure put the ‘bull’ in bulldozer.”

Her eyes swung toward the ceiling like she was thinking hard about it. Then she shrugged, having apparently decided I was correct and she accepted the assessment.

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