Elizabeth's Daughter (5 page)

  “Don’t apologize, please!”

  They sipped their tea and slipped back into the comradely silence they’d shared in the car. Elizabeth felt a quiet happiness steal over her like nothing she’d ever known as she watched the cheerful little ducks on the lake.

  “
Soooo
, anyway,” Peter said after a few moments, “your car, how much do you want for it?”

  “Oh!
–
I don’t know. I have absolutely no idea. And I mean,
no
idea.”

  “How about I call Eddy and have him tell us what it’s worth and if that sounds fair, I’ll write you a check.”

  “Okay,” Elizabeth said.

  A few minutes later Peter was writing Elizabeth a check and stopped in mid-signature. “Wait,” he said, “I should just as well go to the bank and cash this and then we can take the pink slip to Eddy and have him notarize it. Then you can get your new car... and I can have your old one, and the business will be done.”

  “Okay,” Elizabeth nodded to everything he said, assuming that it made perfect sense, as that’s how it sounded. She gave Peter the keys again.

  “On the subject of your house,” Peter said as he drove them to the bank.

  “Yes?”

  “Now I’m beginning to feel like I’m twisting your arm, but if you’re at all interested in selling, I mean, seriously, I hope you’ll let me be the first to know.”

  They pulled into the bank parking lot. Elizabeth got out a pencil and a slip of paper. “Here’s my address. Feel free to come by anytime to look at the house. Anyway, with your appreciation of the antique, I think you’ll enjoy looking at the place. It’s sort of a museum.”

  Peter took the slip of paper Elizabeth handed him. “I definitely look forward to seeing your house.”

  In less than two hours Elizabeth had sold the Chevy, waving bye to Peter as he hurried back to his deadline, and then she’d bought a new, shiny, black Prius.

  She was so excited, she didn’t even mind driving home in the rush hour traffic. She took turns wishing everyone would look at her new car, and feeling relieved when they didn’t.

Chapter VI

Elizabeth hadn’t awakened with such feelings of anticipation since childhood birthdays when her mother was still around.

  The last couple of days were like a new kind of birthday. She loathed to let the mood go. Although all the empty spaces where her beloved Grandfather used to be left a hole in her heart, she at least started to feel alive again. And she was beginning to see that she could make decisions and even be pleased with the results. For example, the beautiful new car.

  “All your life you’ve been a... a
wimp
!” she told herself as she leapt out of bed. “But no more. Today I’ll get a real estate agent to give me an appraisal on this place. And I’m going to check out what’s available at
The Lakes
.”

  There was a real estate agency only two blocks away and, although she wanted to drive her new car, she restrained herself and walked.

  As Elizabeth passed through the doors of Ocean State Realtors, she tried to get her eyes to adjust to the near darkness. She squinted at the person at the reception desk.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes, I’d like to talk with someone about listing my home. That is, if I can find a home that I like better.”

  “You’ve come to the right place,” the woman said. Elizabeth could barely make out a smile
–
at least she could see teeth. “Mr. Antonella will be happy to discuss your options with you.”

  She stood and Elizabeth followed. It wasn’t just her eyes, she realized. It was decidedly dark in here.

  The woman led Elizabeth into a small cubicle. “Mr. Antonella, Miss, oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to get your name.”

  “Morris, Elizabeth Morris,” Elizabeth said.

  “Please, sit,” Mr. Antonella gestured to an over-stuffed chair on the opposite side of his desk.

  Elizabeth sat and the receptionist left. She looked at the man on the other side of the desk. Her eyes had finally adjusted to the dim lighting and she saw before her the most physically gorgeous man she’d ever been this close to in her life. His large dark eyes were complimented by black sweeping eyebrows, so precise they were almost too perfect. A few locks of dark, thick, shining hair spilled over his high, smooth forehead. His cheekbones and jaw were chiseled, a perfect setting for that full-lipped mouth, the aquiline nose, the incredible eyes. Even his after-shave was evocative. Of what, Elizabeth wasn’t quite certain. But it made her strangely, and somewhat uncomfortably, aware of herself.

  What was someone who looked
–
and smelled
–
like this doing in a little, nondescript, neighborhood real estate office? Probably making a lot more money than waiting to become famous in Hollywood, she thought.

  “What can I do for you, Miss Morris?” his intense dark eyes checked her out as if he found her very interesting. Which she doubted.

  “I... I have a home... nearby...” she stuttered shyly. “I’d like to get an estimate on it. And I’d like to see what’s available at
The Lakes
. I’d like to find a place right on the lake.”

  “We can do that,” he leaned back and steepled his fingers. “But if you have a house in this neighborhood and you want to move to
The Lakes
... how much equity do you have in your place?”

  “Equity? I own it, it’s mine.”

  “It’s paid off?”

  “Yes.”

  He leaned forward, interested again. “Well, then, maybe we’ve got something we can work with.”

  “Oh, yes, I think so,” Elizabeth answered. She hadn’t been prepared for this stranger’s preconceived prejudice about the ‘neighborhood.’

  “I’m not particularly busy right now,” Mr Antonella said, shuffling papers together. “Shall we go check your place out?”

  “Well... “ Elizabeth hesitated. “I’d really prefer to have an idea about what’s available before I start thinking about selling my place. After all, if I can’t find something I like more, I’ll stay put.”

  “Oh, there’s always something available.” He held up the massive multiple listing. “In all these thousands of listings there’s got to be something you’ll just love.” There was an odd flatness to his tone. He’d clearly said this line many times.

  “No,” Elizabeth answered firmly, standing her ground, “not if there isn’t anything on the lake in
The Lakes
.”

  A tight look came around the agent’s eyes. “First things first, Miss Morris. Okay? I need to see what kind of buying power we’re talking about before I spend time going through the multiple. Okay?”

  Elizabeth did not like his tone. She almost got up and walked out. She gave him a studied look, and, as she watched, a whole softening, chameleon change came over his features. “Shall we go?”

  Elizabeth stood and walked out of the office wondering why she felt as though she were working for this man instead of the other way around.

  Mr. Antonella led Elizabeth out the back door to a red Corvette in the parking lot. He opened the passenger door and she folded herself into the seat.

  He got in and started the car. “Hope you don’t mind if I take my Vette, I don’t very often get a chance to drive it during the day.”

  “Oh. No, that’s fine.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “What?” Elizabeth asked.

  “My car.”

  “Oh. Well, it’s flashy, Mr. Antonella,” Elizabeth answered. She couldn’t very well say what she felt, which was that actually, it didn’t strike her as an adult car. “Turn left at the corner,” is what she did say. “On the right, in the next block, the corner house.”

  “The corner house! The Morris estate? You’re
that
Morris?”

  “Well, my grandfather was ‘that Morris.’ “

  His attitude changed immediately. “Well, I’m impressed,” he said, turning  and giving her that appraising eye again. “I
am
impressed! You walk in off the street....”

  “I didn’t see much point in driving two blocks,” Elizabeth said, not entirely comfortable with the extreme proximity of his over-bearing beauty and perfume.

  “Ha, ha!” Mr. Antonella laughed. “That’s very amusing. Ha, ha. Sit right there.” He leapt out of the car and ran around and opened her door, offering her his hand. They walked up the path to the house, and Elizabeth let them in the front door.

  “Um-hum,” he said, standing in the pools of stained glass light.

  “This room, Mr. Antonella, to our left....”

  “Please, please call me Tony. If we’re to do business together, I’ll feel more comfortable if you call me Tony. And I hope you’ll let me call you... I’m sorry, what was your first name again?”

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Liz, that’s great.”

  “Well, actually, I’m not a Liz,” Elizabeth protested.

  “Of course you are. You just haven’t let it out yet.”

  Elizabeth wondered what that meant, but she let it pass. “Anyway, as I was saying, the first room to our left has always been Grandfather’s study, technically it’s the parlor.” She led him into the room. “The pocket doors work perfectly.” She demonstrated. “The next room is the music room,” she said, leading him into the neighboring room, where loomed a grand piano.

  “Do you play?” Tony asked perfunctorily, peering at the hardwood flooring.

  “Not really. I took lessons in grade school, but my artistic inclinations took another direction.”

  She led him through the music room to the next room, dominated by a large four poster bed. “This was originally the back parlor, but Grandfather moved in here oh, about five years ago when the stairs got to be too much for him.”

  The front doorbell rang.

  “Who could that be?” Elizabeth said, surprised. She’d paid the paperboy last week. “I’ll be right back.”

  She peeked through the front door window. Peter wandered around the porch, dressed in jeans and a green turtle neck pullover the color of his eyes.

  “Hello!” she said to him through the screen door.

  He turned abruptly. “Hi! Are you busy? Is
that
what you got?” he asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the Corvette.

  “No, it’s the real estate agent’s.”

  “The agent? Oh!” Peter sounded clearly disappointed and a slight look of confusion passed his eyes. “Should I go?”

  Elizabeth felt embarrassed. After all, they’d talked about trading yesterday, but she’d thought it was friendly banter. “I... wanted to get a notion of what this place is worth. I didn’t want to get caught again quite as unprepared as I was yesterday when I didn’t know what the car was worth. Come on in,” she urged, opening the door wider.

  “I shouldn’t interfere while you’re trying to conduct business,” Peter protested.

  “Nonsense,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “I might as well show the house to everyone at once!”

  Peter stepped into the entry way bringing the fresh scent of spring with him. “Well, okay, but only because I’m dying to see it.” He looked around at the stained glass window panes around the front door, the antique light fixture overhead, the beamed ceilings. Elizabeth saw him take it all in, soaking it up as if it were a particular work of art worthy of minute attention. “Oh, yes. This is
exactly
it!”  Peter whispered.

  “Don’t use up all your awe in the entry way,” Elizabeth laughed. “The house is big.”

  Peter turned his serious gaze on her. “I’ll try to conserve my energy.”

  Elizabeth led him into Grandfather’s study and began her litany again. “This was originally the parlor, but it’s been Grandfather’s study for years. Then the next room is the music room... “ She felt like she was pulling Peter along against his will, he clearly wanted to savor every inch.

  “The next room was the back parlor, but we turned it into Grandfather’s bedroom about five years ago.”

  Tony came into the music room.

  “Tony Antonella, this is an acquaintance of mine, Peter Shamus,” Elizabeth introduced.

  The two men shook hands.

  “Peter is curious to look at the house, so I figure I may as well give a group tour.”

  Peter smiled at her while Tony sank into a dark mood.

  “If we walk through the bathroom, we come into the kitchen,” Elizabeth continued. “The pantry is here by the back door. Grandfather “updated” the fixtures in the kitchen in the 1930’s. A couple years ago one of them developed a short and he was furious that the new lights weren’t any more reliable than that. After almost sixty years! Well. That was Grandfather.”

  Peter nodded, but Tony, in the far corner of the room scratching down notes, seemed oblivious to Elizabeth’s reminiscence.

  “And this is the back stairway.” She flipped on the light switch in the stairwell, and the three of them ascended silently upstairs.

  “There are five bedrooms, although only one bathroom up here. The rooms and closets are large so it wouldn’t be difficult for another bath to be put in if someone wanted.”

  She walked down the hall and opened the first door. “This is an empty room and the next one is very similar.” She opened the second bedroom and they peeked in. “Across the hall is my room.” Her door was already standing open.

  “Next, the bathroom, then another empty bedroom. This room at the end of the hall is where I keep my work.” She opened the door to her rug room.

  “Wow!” Peter said, wandering into the room among the waiting-to-be-completed carpets. “You do this?”

  “I do,” Elizabeth said. Suddenly her heart began to race. No one besides Grandfather and Martha had ever been in this room where she captured her visions in wool and silk.

  Peter looked at her practically reverently. “What incredible talent!” He turned his attention back to her work.

  Elizabeth glanced at Tony. He was looking her up and down, unabashedly.

  “I’m very impressed with your art, Elizabeth,” Peter said.

  “Personally,” Tony said, “I’m impressed with the woman.”

  Elizabeth felt she was about to start blushing and once that started, she’d never be able to get it under control.

  “Gentlemen, please!” She walked out of the room, leaving the two men no choice but to follow.

  “This is the grand front stairway, which returns us to the dining room.” They walked down the elegant winding mahogany stairs and came into the massive dining room.

  “The wainscoting is mahogany and the built-in breakfront has all of its original bevelled glass.” Elizabeth pointed across the room. “That swinging door takes you back into the kitchen and pantry. And that’s the house!”