Page 7 of Halstead House

I wasn’t used to eyebrows being wiggled at me, and my reply came out wooden and unsure. “Okay. Sure.” Which is the exact technique I’d always used to attract friends. Sigh.

The elevator dinged and Ana politely stood to the side, allowing me and my luggage to roll in first. We rode up in silence, in that unspoken elevator way, until we reached the top floor and stepped out into the large open foyer where I’d first met Eliza. Her office door was straight ahead and sat slightly ajar. To the left was a side hallway. To the right was another side hallway and the grand staircase that I’d climbed earlier.

Ana turned toward the shorter hallway on the left, and I was quick to follow. At the end were two doors. She swung open the one on the left and gestured for me to enter.

“This is you. The other door in this hall is a bathroom that you can use. Mr. Halstead and Ms. Eliza have bedrooms down the other hallway. I have a couple things to do, but I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow morning. We eat at eight. Chef Lou’s accent might be fake, but the man knows how to cook. You’ll be chubby soon if you aren’t careful.” Ana chuckled. “Welcome, Ms. Burke.”

I set my luggage down and hesitantly returned her smile. “Please, call me Grace.”

Ana nodded once. “Okay.” Then she turned, braid flying, and made good time getting down the hall and out of sight.

I wondered for a moment what Ana’s role was in the household, but I’d been too distracted to ask. Guess I’d have to ask at breakfast the next morning.

I closed the door behind me and turned to take in the room. It was at least the same size as my bedroom in Providence, if not a little bigger. It was done in rich dark woods, the walls papered in wonderful sea green. The bedspread was white, the bed soft and fluffy. It wasn’t modern, but instead retained much of its original 1900s style. I adored it immediately.

A lamp was glowing on the nightstand, a warm sign of welcome and a reminder that I wasn’t totally alone in this new place. Sitting propped up under the lamp was an envelope with my name written in delicate, curvy handwriting. I left my luggage near the door and went to the note. When I opened the envelope a key slid out, falling to the carpet. I bent to retrieve it and looked with wonder at the old-fashioned design. It was bronze and heavy, and I felt ridiculously elated that it hadn’t been modernized. I lazily played with the key as I opened the note.

It was from Eliza, welcoming me to the house and explaining that the key could be used to enter the same side entrance in the basement that I had just come in. I was free to come and go as needed. I looked back at the key, happiness crawling up inside of me like a living thing, before setting it back down on the side table and refolding the note.

A light breeze drew my attention toward the open window. I kicked off my heels and crossed the room to take in the view. I was greeted first by a soft breeze wafting over my face and arms. Next my eyes were pulled to the view. From here it seemed I could see the entire island. The smells and sounds were new and invigorating.

To my right were the outbuildings, including the gift shop and the carriage house. A bit farther to the right was the ocean. It was too dark now to see it clearly, but I could hear the waves crashing on the sand, and it felt like a friendly greeting. Straight ahead and to the left lay the city. The strip of city lights was tiny compared to home, twinkling here and there, occasionally hidden by shadowy leaves dancing slightly.

I took a few moments to breathe deeply and attempt to shake off the last of the worries I’d harbored about my plan to come here. So far things were working out just fine, even if the speed with which things had fallen together was a bit unnerving. I’d always been so methodical in my decision making, weighing in Mother’s input heavily and rarely trusting my gut. Today I’d used my heart, throwing logic to the proverbial wind, and my head was reeling.

“Mary,” I whispered into the breeze. “Do you see me here? Can you believe I made it?” I knew no answer would come, but I smiled to myself, imagining Mary taking my hand in her soft, bony one.

Eventually I pulled myself away from the window and set to work unpacking. It didn’t take long, as I only had one suitcase. I hung clothes in the closet, filled a single dresser drawer, and then simply sat on the bed for a moment to soak in the room.

Satisfied with my arrangements, I flopped back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. I’d been avoiding the thought all day, but I was going to have to call Mother at some point. Especially now that I had a job and was definitely going to be staying for a while.

I sighed as I sat up. I didn’t want Mother to ruin my first actual day at Halstead House the next day, so I figured it best to get it over with now. I stood and reached to the ceiling, stretching my arms and back as I took slow, deep breaths. Then I bent and touched my hands to the floor, still breathing deeply and letting my eyes close. Finally, I stood straight and shook out my arms and legs as I finished getting myself into the right mental zone. I needed to be cool and calm because this phone call would not go well if I showed any signs of agitation.

The phone rang only twice before Mother’s crisp voice answered. “Grace, thank goodness you’re alive. I’ve been beside myself with worry.”

I hoped this wasn’t going to be how every conversation started for the next three months. “Hello, Mother. I’m alive and well. The island is beautiful, and Halstead House was as amazing as I’d always thought.”

She made a scoffing noise. “I’m not surprised you feel that way. You love anything Mrs. Reed said to love.”

As a child I’d been hurt by Mother’s coolness toward Mary, but as an adult I’d come to realize that Mother had been jealous of my relationship with the other woman. I found her feelings perplexing, as Mother was the center that my entire world was formed around. I’d tried to comfort and reassure her over the years, but she’d staunchly refused to call Mary by anything other than her last name.

“It really is a beautiful home. So well preserved. The history buff inside of me is loving it,” I responded kindly.

“Was it worth deserting your poor, lonely, aging mother?”

I took a silent, slow, fortifying breath. “I didn’t desert you.”

“It depends upon your perspective,” she stated. “When will you be coming home?”

“I’ll be here until June.”

“June!” Mother shrieked and I shrank back, even though she was nowhere near. I hated her anger. “Grace Natalie, you do realize that June is three months away?”

“I do.” I forced my voice to sound confident.

“You just expect me to sit here and wait for you to return, and not care about where you are or what kind of things you’re doing?”

“I know you’ll worry. I’m sorry about that.”

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