could see the grandeur beneath—the high dark wood moldings, the built-in bench that might have held visitors as they removed outer things and came to warm their hands at the entry fire.
“Who puts a fireplace by the front door?” Daniel asked, shaking his head as if those old Victorians were just too stupid for words.
“I guess they wanted to give guests a warm welcome,” Michael said, grinning.
Dad jokes. Huh. I smiled at Michael behind his son’s shaking head. I hadn’t heard one in a long time, and something about the boy’s feigned disgust at the corny joke was charming. They were cute together, this man and his son. And despite the tension that I figured was natural whenever a pre-teen was in that stretch for independence while still under the guiding thumb of a parent, I could tell there was a deep fierce affection between them.
A tiny spark of excitement filled me as I gazed around me. I’d always loved old houses, and especially loved seeing them decorated and shined up. I collected design magazines and had even fancied myself a bit of a decorator, though Luke had taken charge of decorating our New York place. And his taste, if you asked me, was essentially non-existent. He mixed centuries and styles, creating a mess that he referred to as eclectic. For a split second, before I recognized that the entire idea was ludicrous, I imagined myself getting to decorate this house. But I was not going to go through with this. It was crazy.
We turned right, into the room that occupied the rounded sweep of the turret we’d seen from the front. Another fireplace sat in this room, and though there was a terrible jagged hole in one wall, the space was charming. I could picture it repaired and glowing with a warm fire, someone wrapped up on the couch, sipping tea by those big windows.
“The parlor?” Michael mused.
Wallpaper hung from the wall in tatters, and one low upholstered chaise sat in the middle of the room. There was a wooden door at the back of this room that hung at a diagonal—meant to slide into the wall around it to reveal a dining room behind. We walked through, each of us quietly gazing around us. Something about the air was thick and heavy, and whatever it was forestalled conversation or commentary for now. The sun seemed to have come back out, and light streamed in through high windows on one side of the room. A massive dining table sat in the center of the space, no chairs around it.
As we entered the space, a long low screeching whine came from the back of the house, and my heart gunned out a machine-gun rhythm as my breath caught in my throat. I turned my head in the direction of the sound.
“What was that?” I asked, unable to keep the fear from my voice as the sun fizzled again outside. There was something very eerie and ghostly inside this house. I decided I absolutely wouldn’t want to be here alone.
I followed Michael through the side door and back into the entry hallway, one hand on his arm. I didn’t know the man, and he probably hated me, but holding onto something strong was my only option for not freaking out completely, and his arm felt solid and strong under my touch. He didn’t say anything about it, and I tightened my grip.
The kitchen lay just behind the dining room, a long space with a broad work table in its center, a hefty chandelier dangling just above it. The stove sat on one wall, cast iron and sturdy, and it was flanked by built in cabinetry. One corner held a small table with benches built into the walls behind it, and a back door led into a utility room with a pantry to one side that held floor to ceiling shelving with a collection of old canned goods still waiting for someone to pick one up. My heart twisted a bit—this space would be amazing if we could modernize it but hang on to the Victorian charm. I knew exactly how I’d do it—antique copper tile on the ceiling, shiny subway tile for the backsplash and a huge apron front farm sink beneath the window.
The current sink sat beneath the window in the kitchen, and Michael went over to investigate the drip coming steadily from the spout. I released his arm, and warmth spread through me when Daniel took my other arm