Page 5 of The River in Spring
“There it is,” I say to the dog.
Nobel asked that I take it slow for Maudie. But it’s the hound that picks up the pace. Her eyes are locked on the beautiful log house up ahead.
“Wow. Not what I expected.”
The home sits on a clearing that borders the open field. It’s dramatic and kind of majestic looking in an American way. The first thing you notice are the expansive windows, which offer wide views of a glorious scene. The Yellowstone River and Paradise Valley are on display in a three hundred sixty degree view. The Absaroka Mountain Range acts as backdrop. Gorgeous.
This home, a two-story copper roofed dwelling, is the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. That’s an understatement at its finest. Who wouldn’t want to live here? The wide two step entry onto a wraparound porch greets in the most welcoming way. Substantial wooden chairs, with thick cushions, sit waiting for an audience. Like orchestra seats in a theater, they’re front and center facing the vistas. Though each cushion is a different hue, they relate in variations of earth tones, moss green, golden amber, the russet of autumn leaves.
Maudie has her own path to the house. A ramp rises from the ground to the porch, and the hound knows the way. She heads for a large sheepskin dog bed to the left of the front door, and curls in a comfortable position. Like a Queen assuming her throne, she surveys her kingdom. Taking the steps onto the porch, I walk to the end and round the corner. I’m curious to see what the front view is.
I inhale at the sight. “Oh!”
A rush sweeps through me. Like a ghost. No. More like an enchanted spirit. There is something special about this moment. This spot. I’m looking at something my soul finds familiar. These are the kind of feelings I pay attention to. Grandma had the gift, and I do too. I’ve always thought it could be explained easily. It’s a common gift, but only some pay attention to these instant perceptions. Most don’t.
For a while all my senses are enhanced. The scent of the blossoms, sun on skin, the call of the regal hawk flying overhead. Appreciation is easy. It bubbles up and comes out in a smile.
When I turn around, the two-story window gives me a peek inside. Cupping my hands I try to get a better view. The glass is treated, and it’s hard to see details, but what I can see is the oversized furniture pieces, and a huge fireplace that rises high. I’m going inside.
Retracing my steps, I open the unlocked door. Maudie follows me inside. Wow. First impressions count and this one is one hundred percent positive. The first thing my eyes settle on is the stone fireplace that reaches the second story. I think a person could almost stand up inside. Stunning.
The entire room is an open space, the living room, kitchen, dining room, all can be seen on entering. A wide desk and a high-end office chair sit angled with a view to the outside. Three monitors and a closed laptop take up part of the surface. It’s very neat. No paperwork. No drawers. Where does he keep the paperwork? He’s an attorney, as I found out in my digging. An organized one I see.
The dog has made it across the living room, to the stone island in the kitchen. She stands frozen, staring at the legs of the perfectly angled barstools in front of her. For a moment I’m stumped.Is she having a problem?But then I see the lidded glass container of dog biscuits on the counter. Smart girl. Nobel’s sweater gets placed on the back of the maroon leather chair, as I pass to the kitchen. Once the lid is removed, Maudie lifts her head and takes a step back, nails clicking on the wood floor.
“Here you go, sweetie.”
The biscuit is gently taken and carried to one of her “spots”. It looks awfully comfortable there on the rug in front of one of the leather chairs. I’m guessing it’s where the human sits every night. I can picture the idyllic scene. A snifter of brandy comes to mind. No. That’s not who he is. Maybe a whiskey.
My attention lands on the far dining room wall across the kitchen. It’s covered in photographs. But this is no half-baked display put up randomly. It’s well thought out. Each picture framed in the same way, and professionally. How did he space them so perfectly? Black matte wood against the light grey wall stands out.
Oh, this is going to be fun. It will give me a good peek into Mr. Lyon’s world. I lean over to catch a look out the side window. Is he coming? Not yet. Good. Let the snooping begin. There’s not a lot of time. My first impression is he’s from a happy family. The older couple have a kind of cool chic style. The man wears Uggs and bracelets. My kind of people. There’s a picture of Nobel and his siblings from the eighties. Three brothers and two sisters. So cute. The two teenagers in the next picture must belong to one of them. Lookers all. There is one sister grown, with another man and one of the kids. All three wear big funny hats.
Dogs. These people love their animals. That’s a good sign. This could take me an hour to look at all the pictures and glimpse his life. Why am I not seeing any women? Odd. Only one of the brothers stands next to a woman. And that’s an old New Year’s picture from two thousand and twelve.
I could get sidetracked here. Think I’ll save the photos for last. I need to take a look around first. No one will ever know. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he couldn’t accuse me of crossing any lines of privacy. After all, he was spying on me first.
So I head down the hall, looking at a guest bathroom, and two bedrooms that share another full bath. Nice. Where does he sleep? Neither of these say master bedroom, or even show one thing out of place. Okay, guest rooms. Is there time to go upstairs? If I got caught it would be embarrassing. Not quite as embarrassing as falling out of a tree, but close.
Do it!
I exit the hallway and take the stairs two at a time until I reach the landing. When I look back, Maudie is watching. Good thing she can’t talk. There’s a wide open space with a bar, a big flatscreen, a game table, and six chairs. Looks like a poker table if I’m not mistaken. So he’s a card guy. Cool. I can play a mean game of Texas Hold ‘Em.
Quit wasting time!
I head down the hall to the one room it leads to. Are those horns I hear heralding my arrival? Double doors are closed, but that doesn’t stop me. I swing them both open.
“Ohhh! Jackpot!!”
I expected a pristine bedroom. Not a pillow out of place. Instead, I’m greeted by an unmade bed and discarded clothes at its foot. There’s a half-eaten bowl of popcorn sitting on the side table, alongside a beer bottle. Obviously he was in a hurry to spy on me this morning. I have to chuckle. But there’s no time to waste.
First I run a hand over the pillowcase he didn’t sleep on. Yep. The man knows and buys quality. That’s one in the plus column. Actually the plus column began at the river. By now, I’m on number one hundred. A giant flatscreen on the wall opposite the bed is another. This man likes his TV. Most women I know don’t like one in the bedroom at all. That’s where I part ways with my gender.
Moving to the bathroom I’m surprised by its size and general awesomeness of the space. Never have I seen a bigger shower. Or a better one. It’s big enough for four people. Fancy water heads point in every direction, and black and grey tile stacks high.
“Cool.”
Dare I open his medicine cabinet?Hell yes. It’s set into the wall, modern in design and large. What’s he got in here, a years’ worth of cologne? Opening it, my eyes scan the tidy shelves for surprises. Tylenol, floss, deodorant, all the usual players. Two prescription bottles. Xanax.And what’s this one?Viagra! These are both old prescriptions. It was filled two years ago. Both look like they are almost full. Well he is in his forties. Didn’t know that would happen so young. What’s this huge bottle? Gas pills!! What the hell? Why does he need an industrial sized bottle of anti-gas pills? I can’t stop laughing.
