After exploring the main level, Addison ascended the stairs, enlisting the same precautions she’d taken on the porch steps outside. At the top, she came to a door. It seemed like such a strange place to have one, but she assured herself it was probably common in older houses. She turned the knob, relieved when it opened with ease. She took a few steps forward and looked around, tapping the air with a finger. “One…two…three…four bedrooms,” she counted aloud. Including the ones on the first floor, there were seven bedrooms in all. From what little family history she’d received, Addison had learned an interesting fact: every generation bore only one child. Why then were so many rooms necessary, and what had they been used for?
A mirror in the hall offered the first glimpse of Addison’s disheveled state. Her auburn, shoulder-length hair hung in unruly wisps, some curling into her face, others shooting out in various directions, all courtesy of a long ride on a stuffy, overbooked plane. She removed a hair band from her wrist, twisting her hair around it until it formed a loose bun. It wasn’t tight, the way she liked, but it would do. For now. The smeared makeup beneath her bright, hazel eyes would have to do as well. Every one of her freckles dotted her face like bits of scattered glitter, something that usually made her very self-conscious. Right now, however, there wasn’t anyone around to impress.
Addison had just begun to look around when the hallway door slammed shut behind her, sending a jolt through her waifish frame and causing her to jump back. That’s strange, she thought. All the windows in the house are closed. And she hadn’t seen or felt a draft anywhere. She stared at it, considering whether or not to open it up again, when her attention shifted to another door.
The first bedroom on the left had a different door than all the rest. The slim sidelites to the left and right of the center piece made it look a lot more like a front door than an interior one. Oddest of all were the white, roll down shades that covered the sidelites, maneuverable on either side of the door.
She tugged the middle shade to retract it. Nothing happened. Stiff and brittle, the shade almost broke apart in her hand. She pinched the bottom of the shade with the tips of her fingers, lifting it gently. On the outside of the glass, boards had been placed, blocking her view from the room.
Why?
Her curiosity was piqued.
She twisted the handle, hoping to enter the room and explore it further. The door was locked. She pulled the key ring from her pocket and began testing the various keys at the lock. None of them worked.
Frustrated, Addison abandoned the first door and tried the next closest one. To her surprise, it opened. In fact, all the doors in the hall were unlocked—all except the first. Each room was simply adorned with mattresses stripped of bed sheets sitting atop stunning, ornate, metal bed post frames. Night stands on each side of the bed. Nothing more. There were no dressers of any kind, no items on the walls. At least, not anymore. “Where is everything?”
A door creaked open. “My guess, the attic if they’ve got one,” a male voice echoed down the hall.
Addison took a step back and poked her head into the hallway. A stocky, but muscular man wearing tan steel-toed boots, jeans, and a black fleece hoodie with a large cross on the front stood in front of her, his fingers jammed halfway into his jean pockets, thumbs out. He grinned, revealing dimples that seemed to cut deeper as his smile widened.
“Who are you?” Addison asked. “And why do you think it’s okay to just walk into somebody else’s house without knocking?”
The man walked toward her, a strand of his straight, blond hair falling over his eyelid in the process. He stuck out his hand. Addison stepped back, staring at it for a moment and then back at him.
“I didn’t think anyone else was here yet; there’s no car out front,” he said.
Addison crossed her arms.
The man withdrew his hand. “Maybe we should start over. I’m Luke Flynn. You called me, remember?”
“You’re the historical restoration architect? I thought you’d be—”
“Older?”
“Something like that.”
“I get that a lot,” he said. “I’m older than you think. And besides, my age shouldn’t make a difference. I’m qualified to do the work you need—isn’t that what matters?”
“How old are you?”
“How old are you?” he shot back.
Addison had guessed he was closer to twenty-five, and several years her junior. She tried to get a good look at him, but the light filtering through the naked window into the room had started to fade. Addison stepped back into the bedroom, flicking the light switch. Nothing happened. “Why aren’t the lights working? I called the utility company. The electricity was supposed to be on today. I wouldn’t have come here yet if I knew it—”
Luke repressed a laugh. “How long has it been since anyone lived here?”
Addison shrugged.
“Okay…how long has it been since the power was on in this place?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I found the number to the utility company, called them up, and told them to turn it on—today. Maybe they got the day wrong.”
Luke shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” Addison asked.
“You don’t know how this all works, do you?” he said, swirling a finger around in the air.
“Isn’t that what I hired you for?”
“Yeah, but I figured you’d know something. It is your house.”
“I’m seeing it for the first time—same as you. Until a week ago, I didn’t know this place existed.”
“You just bought it?” he asked.
“It was part of an inheritance.” She flipped the switch again, as if she expected something magical to happen. “What about these lights, then?”
“I’m going to take a stab at it and say the electricity has been off for a while. Years even.”
“What does that mean?”
“My guess—it’ll have to be brought up to code before the service can be restored,” he said. “You can’t just pay a deposit and get the lights turned back on.” Luke ran a hand up and down the door frame. “Not in an old beauty like this.”
“When can you have everything up and running?” Addison asked.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“What’s most important to you,” he said. “Is that what you want to happen first?”
Addison nodded.
“There’s a good chance I’ll need to hire a contractor to rewire the entire house,” he said. “I’ll take a look around tomorrow and get a better idea. Do you need me to run the cost by you before I—”
“I have the money as long as you’re reasonable,” she said, flatly.
“I’ll make some calls tonight then. What time should I meet you here tomorrow?”
“It doesn’t matter—come whenever you want. I’ll be here.”
He started to turn, until something she said clicked. “Wait a minute—you’re not staying in this old place—right?”
She hesitated. “I had planned on it. I had no idea it would be in this condition until after I got here.”
“There are plenty of decent hotels in the city. I can recommend a few if that will—”
“I don’t want to stay in the city.” Her coarse words slashed through the air before she could do anything to stop them.
The boxes she shipped wouldn’t arrive for another four days, and she was naïve to think she could manage until then with a mere two suitcases, the duffel bag of food she brought, and no car.
Luke backed up, holding his palms out in front of him. “Okay, okay, geez.”
“I didn’t mean to—I just—I came here to…get away from it all. I’d rather stay in a house that’s falling apart than return to where I came from. Besides, I’m already here.”
“That bad, huh? Hiding out?”
“What?”
“I can’t think of any other reason you’d want to stay here right now,” he said. “Not unless you’re running away from someone.”
Or something—a past life she’d rather forget.
Addison sighed. “It took me all day to get here, and I’m tired. Can we talk about all of this tomorrow?”
“Look—this place isn’t even fit enough for you to sleep on the floor right now.” He walked into the bathroom and back out again a minute later. “Water isn’t working either. You won’t be able to shower, and what are you going to eat? I looked at the kitchen when I got here. There isn’t a refrigerator or an oven. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman? I can manage. I’ve been on my own for a long time.”
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just wanted to help.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Why? You don’t even know me.”
He shrugged. “Why does that matter?”
“I have a phone,” Addison said, her tone confident. “I’ll call a cab if I change my mind. But I do appreciate you offering to—”
“Check it,” he said.
“What?”
“Your phone—just do it.”
Addison plucked the cell phone out of her pocket. The service bars on the screen flickered between one and none. Great. Her new life was already turning out to be a disaster. She knew the house would need to be restored—the lawyer had mentioned it in their meeting—but she never thought it would be this unlivable.
Luke sighed. “What if I find you a place to stay that’s close to the city but not in a busy area. Would you consider it?”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“It would only be for a few days,” he insisted. “I’ll get the water on and the power and then you can come back. Sound good?”
Addison hated to admit it, but he was right. She couldn’t stay here. “Do you have a specific place in mind?”
“A guest house—you’ll have plenty of privacy. Let me make a call first and make sure it’s okay. ”
“I thought you said the reception wasn’t very good out here?” Addison asked.
“For you, maybe, not for me.” He winked and stepped outside.
Addison turned, looked around, and became more aware of how much work it would take to fix up the place. What have I gotten myself into?