What a Girl Needs (25 page)

“Does anyone else feel as if we’re going to get arrested for trespassing?” Kay asks. “My little Prius has Maserati envy.”

“Oh my,” Emily murmurs. “I cannot stay here. Ashley, why didn’t you tell me they lived in a castle?”

“I didn’t know. They lived in a regular house when I was a kid. I mean, their stuff was always nicer, but nothing like this.”

“Let’s leave,” Emily says.

“Where else are you going to stay?” I ask her. “It’s either here, or you’re coming home with me to Philly.”

She is so not coming home with me.

“Those rough-looking people from your parents’ house actually live here.”

“They were dressed for a rod and gun show,” I say incensed. “Clara is actually quite a beautiful woman. I imagine she’ll be dressed more in her usual style today.”

Emily stares at me. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken. Fish owns the patents on a bunch of different inventions. He’s a genius, and unlike many brilliant men, he knows how to make it work for him. I’d say he hasn’t done too badly for himself.”

The massive walls, which are a combination of brick and limestone, are interrupted by several turrets and topped by a sloped slate roof. Kay sits numbly and opens her window. We are greeted by the tinkling bell sound of running water on an entrance fountain and the deep, heavy barks of what can only be giant dogs. After staring at each other for a time, we finally step out of the car.

“It’s like being in a gothic novel,” I say. “Heeeeth-cliff!” I shout.

“Mr. Rochester!” Kay laughs. “Do you think they’re keeping an ex-wife in the basement?”

“Or maybe in the south wing!”

“What are you two rambling on about?” Emily asks.

“Never mind,” Kay answers. “Nerd humor.”

The front doors, laden heavily with beveled glass shaped into the same cathedral style peaks of the porte cochere, swing open. Clara appears. “You made it!”

“Clara, seriously,” I tell her. “This place is unreal. I have to ask you, why on earth would you ever leave the premises? Much less to go to a rod and gun show?”

She laughs. “The architects and Fish got carried away. You know how they always want to challenge themselves—which translates into the budget being nothing more than wishful thinking and not reality.”

“How cool that he was able to do that—”

“A man like Fish doesn’t know when to stop. He’s always reworking something, so it’s a work in progress.”

“Kevin challenges himself with new surgeries. Our house is a complete dump,” I tell her. “I never knew people really lived like this.”

“Me neither!” Emily says, which surprises me. I would have thought her mother’s friends might have had at least one acquaintance who lived like this.

Behind Clara, inside the house, there’s an enormous mahogany staircase that splits in two directions toward the top. It must be twelve feet across. I lived in Silicon Valley long enough to know this is bad feng shui—that luck will run right out the door and down the hill. But clearly, it hasn’t hurt their luck one iota, so I guess they don’t believe in feng shui—or they have a plant in the right position.

“This place was a dump, too. That’s why we rebuilt it. The land was too precious to harbor our old barn of a house. None of this would have been possible without Fish’s ancestors working this land. Well, and I suppose, Fish’s inventions so we could build the house. It all worked.”

“Does it have a name?” Emily asks. “In the south, they’d name a great house like this.”

Clara shakes her head. “Just home.” Clara is so tiny and birdlike in appearance that her delicate features make you forget how inwardly stout she is.

“Have my parents been here?” I ask her.

“Many times,” Clara says.

I mean, seriously!
You think they might have mentioned that Fish and Clara were scions of wine country. You’d think in a decade or two, the subject might have come up.
I knew they were wealthy, but honestly…I would have worn my good Maxi dress.

“How big is the house?” Kay’s mechanical engineering side takes over.

“I’m almost embarrassed to say, but Fish had his plans and he is so hard-headed. I think it’s about 18,000 square feet.” Clara presses her hand lightly against Emily’s belly. “Welcome. Maggie is so excited to meet you. She’s been setting up your room so you’ll feel right at home and I imagine she will be anxious to not have just us old goats here to talk to.”

If this house isn’t proof positive that everything Emily touches (except me) turns to gold, I don’t know what is.

Emily stammers. I’ve never seen her so nervous, but she looks as though the house is alive and might attack at any moment. She presses her lips together. “I can’t—I’m not…there’s no way I can ever repay this debt. I think I should go back home with Ashley.”

“Nonsense,” Clara says. “God gave us this home for a purpose. Do you think He wants us holed up here alone? Or do you think He wants us to use it for a higher purpose?”

“What will I do here? You’ll give me chores?”

“Yes,” Clara says. “We’ll have you on your knees scrubbing the floors, just like Cinderella. Maybe the mice will talk with you.”

Emily’s eyes are wide like fine china.

Clara presses a hand on her shoulder. “Emily, I’m kidding of course. You’re already working, you’re creating life.”

“I’d feel better if I had something to do. I’m quite talented with floral arrangements.”

“Well, if you like, we sometimes host weddings here for our church. Maggie likes to help the wedding coordinators with where to set things up. I’m certain we could find a similar job for you. I don’t expect you to just sit back and be idle. That’s not good for anyone.”

Emily’s forefinger is in her mouth. It seems the reality of being with strangers while she awaits my future niece or nephew, is starting to take root.

“Come inside. You’ll see, it’s just a regular house underneath its commanding presence. It’s just a home like what you came from—with a TV, two unruly dogs and a longer hike than usual to get to the kitchen for a beverage.”

Emily makes no move for her luggage, so Kay reaches for it in the open trunk. I yank the rest out of the backseat, but as Emily looks at me, I can see she isn’t feeling safe, and for crying out loud, I can’t leave her here if she’s afraid. I could never answer to Kevin.

I take her hand and squeeze it. “Let’s take a tour of the house. When would we ever get an opportunity to tour a house like this again?”

“Never!” Kay answers while she’s packed down with Emily’s suitcases. She looks far more anxious to be rid of Emily than I am. “Come on, man-up! You’re going to be a mother soon.”

Kay crosses the threshold first after Clara and I take Emily’s hand. “This is weird,” I whisper to her. “If it’s too weird, we’ll leave. Just tell me and I’ll handle it if you want to leave.”
That, in poker, is what they call a bluff.

“We drove all this way.”

“You’ve come from Atlanta. A two-hour drive to Sonoma is nothing. I promised Kevin I’d look after you, and I will.” And darn it, I will. Guilt is a strangely powerful force.

Emily’s eyes well up and she nods in comprehension. We walk into the house and it almost seems like we should kneel or make the sign of the cross. The house is so formal and church-like, I want to drop to my knees. My eyes follow the steps up to the ceiling, which is all wood, but so chamber-like, I almost expect to hear a choir. It’s not dark, even with this much mahogany. There are so many windows, that shards of light infiltrate every corner. Tiny rainbows dance across the steps from the sun against the beveled glass.

“This place is ridiculous,” Kay whispers in my ear.

My attention is arrested by a young, pregnant woman in a mini T-shirt descending the magnificent stairs, her belly protrudes over leggings. She’s also wearing a bandana around her short, cropped hair. She scampers down the steps.

“Take it easy, Maggie!” Clara chastises.

“You’re Emily?”

Emily nods. My sister-in-law is clearly not happy to be in the same position as Maggie.

“Maggie,” the young girl says. Then, she sticks her hand toward me. “Ashley?”

“Ashley’s not pregnant,” Emily says to Maggie, then she shakes her head sorrowfully as if to relay my emptiness. I feel an immediate need to defend myself.

“We’re not ready to start a family.”

Maggie furrows her brows. “How old are you?” As if I’m Methuselah.

“Let’s go have some iced tea, shall we, Ashley?” Clara pulls me toward the kitchen with her spritely steps. “Maggie, take Emily and get her settled in her room. Fish will bring up the bags later.”

“I can take them,” Kay says.

“No, no. You come with us.”

I nod. “Nice to meet you, Maggie,” I call after the lithe figure. “This is my former roommate, Kay.”

“Come on.” Maggie grabs Emily by the wrist in a childish fashion. “You can see the rest of the place later.” She drags Emily up the stairs, and my sister-in-law stares back at me as if to say,
save me!

“Now that we’ve lost the pregnant women, let’s get some caffeine, shall we?” Clara leads us toward the back of the great house, and we enter the kitchen, which has a granite island so large, it has stools for eight at its counter.

Clara takes out an old, white Mr. Coffee machine, stained with traces of pots once made, and scoops coffee into the machine, pours some water in, and starts it. “Does anyone want tea? I have passion tea iced, and any kind you’d like, hot.”

“Coffee’s fine,” Kay says.

“Kay, you’re probably interested in the rest of the house. I know you were eyeing the way everything was put together. Why don’t you wander while Ashley and I make the coffee. Just remember the pool out back is directly behind the kitchen, so wherever you are in the house, you can navigate your way back that way.”

“Thanks!” Kay says, and she takes off before Clara rescinds the offer.

Clara, with her short blonde pixie cut, and aged skin looks more like a field hand from the vineyards than she does mistress of the house. The fact that a house has a mistress in this day and age, says it all. Clara’s still beautiful for her age, her bright blue eyes, nearly turquoise in color, almost glisten with life.

“We got a strange call last night,” Clara says. “Emily’s boyfriend knows she’ll be here. It seems he called here looking for her.”

I shake my head. “He couldn’t possibly. I didn’t even have your number until last night.”

Clara shrugs. “I’ve seen this before, Ashley. Your sister-in-law is not in danger from the sounds of it.”

“No.” I shrink a little. “I know she’s not. She talked about this guy in the car like he was the second coming.”

“So any idea why she might lie to you and her family?”

“Um, she was speaking?” I feel guilty immediately. “I don’t know, Clara. I can’t figure out what drives Emily. At first, I thought she just wanted to be a married southern belle and have life handed to her on a silver platter with highballs in the afternoon. But now? I have no idea what she wants. If you told me she’d end up pregnant without a husband, I would have laughed in your face.”

“This beau of hers knew she was coming because he called here. Emily had to give him our number. We’re not listed anywhere. He called here last night and we recognized his name immediately. He’s a big name in college football.”

“So now what?”

“She’s not in any danger. Fish wanted to prove he can’t be outplayed. He called the boy on his personal cell phone and told him if he shows up here, it better be with a ring and a marriage license. He said the young man was very polite and just wanted to bring his Emily home where she belonged.”

My stomach is swirling. “She’s not right in the head. I’m sorry I involved you in any of this. I have no idea what the truth is – what she wants a lawyer for, why she can’t stay at her mom’s house, nothing—”

“For now, we want to find out what she wants.”

“I was thinking a lobotomy,” I snark.

Clara pats me on the shoulder and grins. “You’re so much like your father, Ashley.”

There’s the compliment of the day.

“Do you feel comfortable with her here? I mean, I told Kevin I wouldn’t be responsible for her, but really, I’m responsible for her. I’ll gladly take her back with me. Maybe gladly is overstating it. But she’s my responsibility.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’ll be fine here, and we’ll work out her issues. We’ve had a lot tougher cases than her. I promise you.”

“Why would you do this?”

Clara pulls a coffee mug out of the cabinet, and I hop onto a barstool. “Because my son drove into that tree on purpose, Ashley. And now, when I see a young person in crisis, I feel like it’s my purpose on earth to try and save them. What if some stranger saw something in Jackson that I didn’t? What if they kept on walking when they might have taken his keys? I have this innate need to keep other parents from that knock on the door by CHP officers.”

“I’m sorry, Clara. I didn’t know.”

“The only people who know it wasn’t really an accident are your mother and father. They’ve never told a soul.” Her face brightens. “Emily will be fine. We’ll get to the bottom of this, but don’t let her manipulate you. She’s staying with us.”

By the time Emily and Maggie make their way to the kitchen, I’m oblivious to the extravagance around me. The granite and the French enameled stove disappear, and suddenly, I’m on set in
Girl Interrupted
and Emily is playing a proverbial board game by herself.

‡