Page 18 of Sensing Selma
I smiled and shivered.
“Shoot,” he said as he shrugged off his jacket. “Here I am going on about the romance of it all while you’re potentially getting hypothermic.” He set his jacket over my shoulders.
I didn’t know how to tell him that the cold wasn’t responsible for my shivers. I simply thanked him and accepted the warmth of his jacket.
I looked up to the sky and saw a break in the clouds. Moments later the sheets of heavy rain turned into a pleasant shower and finally just sprinkles of water.
“It’ll be a muddy mess in places, but I think it’s safe to go now.”
*****
WITH THE SUN DOINGquick work of drying up the rain puddles, Brad and I walked through the forest to reach the creek that bordered the Selma property.
“We must be almost a mile away from the main house,” Brad said.
“A little more than half a mile.”
“I hadn’t realized just how large the property truly is.”
“And you’ve still to see the wing of the house that we presently inhabit, and the stable and the workshop and what was once the servants’ quarters and the pond and the inner courtyard where we used to have our swing set.”
“I think my brother might have bit off more than he can chew.”
“How so?”
“Jeremy has visions of turning Selma Sanctuary into Baker Hotel...something like that. I think he’s underestimated the amount of work needed to turn an old ancestral house into a modern hotel.” He looked at me. “No offense, but the place needs a lot of work.”
“No offense taken at all. I’m quite aware of the work needed. Even for us to remain living here, there is work to be done. Unfortunately, the funds simply aren’t there.”
“I believe the same to be true for my brother.”
“But your brother seems so...”
“Full of himself?”Brad finished for me.
I laughed. “That’s not quite what I was going to say, but yes. He gives off an air of wealth and superiority, although he does seem to have issues with his personal appearance.”
“Ah yes. His aristocratic ambitions wrapped up in ill-fitting suits. That’s Jeremy. While he likes to think of himself as upper crust, the reality is that he’s a gambler who knows not the art of a tailor.” He shook his head. “Gambling. Yes. He loves taking risks. He loves to put it all on the line, the adrenaline rush of doubling his earnings. Unfortunately, the crushing defeat that follows never dissuades him from risking it all again and again. He's gone from soaring wins to devasting losses, sometimes within the span of a single week. What am I saying? Even within the span of a single day.”
“So, what will he do with the property if he can’t turn it into a hotel?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to suggest he keep it as it is, perhaps with just minor repairs, and perhaps open it to the public. You know, a historic heritage type of thing.”
“Somehow I don’t imagine him being interested in preserving history.”
“You’re right, but I think the financial reality will bring him around.”
“Then again, if he’s fond of gambling, he just might go for it all the same.”
We walked on in silence, emerging from the forest and returning to the house by way of a flowering meadow.
Whereas our moments of silence usually tended to be comfortable and easy, I now sensed a weight on him. He seemed pensive and almost distant. I suddenly wondered if I’d said something to offend him.
“Brad,” I said as I stopped walking and turned to him. “I’m sorry. I realize that I sometimes forget that Jeremy is your brother. I didn’t mean to disparage him.”
Bringing his hand to his chest, he burst out laughing. “Oh, my. Oh, dear sweet Susan. Do not ever apologize for speaking truthfully about my brother. No. No. I’m sorry, but my pensive mood is in no way related to your harsh words towards him. On the contrary. My thoughts are of the situation he’s put you in. Increasingly, I find his actions unreasonable and illogical.”
I resumed walking. “I can’t argue with you there.”
