Mourning After Page 7

  Outside the rain had abated, leaving a permanent haze that seemed to settle in and surround everything. The humidity was high, the air warm, and the visibility poor. Even the mountains were blanketed out in the short distance. New York City didn’t see fog like this. There was always too much artificial light. But out here? The fog settled around the town like a thick wool blanket.

  Jake started the truck but didn’t put it into gear. I wish I could’ve known what was spinning behind those gray eyes of his.

  “You doing okay?” I reached over and touched his arm in a comforting gesture. My fingertips skimmed the scratches that ran along his forearm, no doubt inflicted by some unruly shrub.

  “I didn’t think it would be this hard.” Jake stared out the windshield.

  I understood. “I had an aunt I was close to. My mom’s sister as well. She died in a skiing accident a couple of years ago. I still miss her.” My Aunt Jackie, with her boisterous laugh and tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore just to annoy my mother. Why can’t she dress tastefully, my mom had lamented when Aunt Jackie strolled into the country club for Christmas lunch. No one could get under her skin like Aunt Jackie. But she also gave the best hugs and she was the one who taught me how to make homemade lemonade during one of the many weekends I spent in her apartment growing up.

  “I need a break.” Jake turned to look at me. “What do you say? Are you up for a little adventure?”

  “Sure.” I wasn’t sure what type of adventure he had in mind, but if I could swing it in a pair of jeans and ballet flats, then I was down.

  “One of my favorite memories of my aunt is when she took me to the gardens at Biltmore. Have you ever been?” Jake pulled away from the curb and appeared to leave his brooding behind, too.

  “No. My gran moved down here, or rather up here, after I already went off to college. Asheville is new to me.”

  “Well, Aunt Roseanne was dating one of the grounds workers there. Actually a couple of them.” Jake laughed and shook his head. “Anyway, she’d take me there on the weekends. While she’d be flirting with the crew, I fell in love myself.”

  I cocked my head. “With what exactly?”

  “The landscape. See, I was always getting into trouble, running into the woods, looking for snakes and toads, getting dirty and ticking my mother off. Nothing in school really stuck except for art. Then I saw those gardens. The way those pieces clicked together? I just wanted to be there. I loved the lines, the way the ground rose up to meet walkways and how everything looked natural, except it wasn’t. I wanted to do the same thing.” Jake shrugged as if to say that’s all.

  “What about you, what drew you in to counseling?”

  “Oh, um, well, nothing really. My first love is acting.”

  Thankfully that response caught Jake by surprise. I didn’t want to spin any more lies.

  “Really? Did you ever pursue it?”

  “I did. In fact, I was in New York City not too long ago.” Like last week. “But some things fell through.” My life for example. “It just wasn’t meant to be.” It was my turn to shrug my shoulders.

  “At least you went for it, huh? That’s more than some people ever do.”

  I was silent while I thought this through. “True, but that doesn’t make failure any less hard to swallow.” In fact, the taste of disappointment was still bitter on my tongue.

  “Was it worth it?’

  “Jury’s still out.” I gave a half-hearted smile then reached for the tunes, putting an end to the conversation. Jake side-eyed me but didn’t object once the classic rock station started playing through the cab. I sat back and closed my eyes while the truck rolled down the interstate.

  Good thing it was a short drive or else I would’ve fallen asleep. Given my lack of sleep the night before, that wasn’t entirely surprising. Jake parked in a regular old-looking parking space.

  “This it?” I asked. I looked out the window at the surrounding landscape. Trees separated the rows of parking, but other than that, it was rather ordinary.

  “Nah, this is just the parking lot. Over there’s the shuttle that takes you to the main house, or there’s a walking trail right over here.”

  I unclicked my seatbelt and stretched in my seat. “And which way are we headed?”

  “Neither. Luckily, Eddie is still the grounds manager. He took a liking to me as a kid and I hunt him down whenever I stop by.”

  “Is he working?” I asked as we got out of the truck.

  “He’s always working.” Jake came around the truck and took me by the hand, leading me up the gravel walkway over to where the parking assistant was working. Jake had been right. Eddie was working, and within ten minutes, the older man zipped our way in a golf cart.

  “Eddie, this is my friend Megan,” Jake said by way of introduction.

  I cringed when he said the wrong name. “Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand and received the same warm and callused handshake as Jake’s the day before.

  Eddie was easily in his seventies. Clipped silver hair cut military style sat on his head. He wore heavy-duty navy slacks, hiking boots, and a light tan button-up shirt. It was practical yet business.

  Jake had me take the seat up front next to Eddie, while he took the spot on the back. The seat faced backward, but Jake turned so that he was positioned with his arm on the back of my seat and he could talk to the both of us.

  Eddie whisked us away in the cart. The two men talked shop and caught up while the cart zipped along the side path.

  And then there it was.

  I literally tapped Eddie on the shoulder to get him to stop driving so I could take in the home’s beauty.

  “First time?” he asked.

  I thought I replied with an assent, but I can’t be too sure. I was speechless.

  Regal. That’s the best word I could come up with. The term mansion surely didn’t do the estate justice. I hadn’t known the property was that majestic. The French Renaissance chateau must rival any European estate. I felt I must surely feel the same way that Elizabeth Bennet did the first time she laid eyes on Pemberley. The property was that over the top in style and grandeur.

  “It was Vanderbilt’s mountain home,” Jake filled in.

  “What did he do exactly?” I was thinking I needed to rethink my career choices. At my current rate, I couldn’t even afford a day pass, let alone an overnight stay.

  Eddie gave a rolling laugh. “George Vanderbilt was old money. It was his granddaddy that made the millions in steamboats and railroad.”

  “Ah,” was all that I replied.

  “Yes, he was born into privilege and spent his life in luxury. But he’s rumored to have been quite generous,” Jake said from behind me.

  “There’s his saving grace,” I said with a smile.

  Eddie took us away from the house, past the formal gardens, and around to the back pond.

  “That’s the French Broad River. It separates the property,” Eddie said.

  A trail head was to the left of me.

  “Do you want to walk?” Jake asked me.

  “Sure, let’s do that.”

  Eddie stopped the cart.

  “Thanks for the lift, my man.”

  “My pleasure. You know, I may be retiring soon.”

  “That’s what you said last decade.” Jake laughed when he spoke.

  “I mean it this time. Might get you working here yet.”

  “Well, if you do retire, let me know.”

  Eddie gave us a finger salute and drove off.

  Jake and I walked and walked and walked, meandering down the twisted roadways and off beaten paths of the estate. We took in the manicured gardens, the landscaped forests, acres of sunflowers, the most amazing conservatory and orchids I had ever laid eyes on, and the symmetrical pools and sculptures of the Italian garden. I was blown away and found myself wishing I could keep a potted plant alive, let alone my own garden. Someday, I thought.

  “You know, I have to say, I’m surprised that you and Ros
eanne were friends.” I was bent low above a pond, looking at the different Koi fish when Jake spoke. “Why do you say that?” I kept my face downward.

  “You two are just total opposites. Life never straightened out for her, but here you are, just full of it.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am just optimistic by nature. It helps in my line of work.” I finally stood up but continued to look around the ponds. Impressive lilies with their white and pink blooms floated on the water, along with some enormous leaves. I had never seen such a thing.

  “Those are Victorian water platters. They’re basically giant water lilies.”

  “You could say that.” The leaves were easily six feet in diameter.

  Jake took me by the hand and turned me so I was facing him. “I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For believing in her. For trying. If I hadn’t found horticulture, my life probably would’ve ended up a lot like hers.”

  “Jake, I …” How was I going to say this? He had to know that it was all a lie. That my intentions had been good, but the fact remained that I wasn’t who he thought I was.

  “Jake? Is that you?” The woman’s shrill voice rang out across the garden. Several heads turned in our direction.

  “Bitsy,” Jake was still facing me and managed to mouth oh boy before the woman reached us.

  “I thought that was you. So good to see you!” The woman was easily in her fifties, but don’t tell her that. Her ash blond locks were straight, with a powder blue headband on top that matched the suit she was wearing. “How’s your mother? Tell her I miss her so. We must all get together soon. You know my Jenna is back in town.”

  “No, I hadn’t heard.” Jake cleared his throat.

  “It seems just like yesterday you two lovebirds were going to prom. Those were the days, weren’t they? Senior quarterback and cheerleading captain? You two were high school royalty.”

  I smiled politely.

  “Bitsy, this is a friend of the family, Megan Maloney.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” The woman shook the tips of my fingers with her bony hand. It the weakest, most ridiculous handshake I had ever experienced.

  “For a minute there, I feared you might have run off and gotten married on us!” Bitsy touched her hand to her heart and gave a nervous laugh. Jake let it hang in the air, seeming to refuse to give her the relationship details that she apparently so desperately craved.

  “We were actually just headed out to lunch. It was good to see you.” Jake placed his fingers on the small of my back and guided me forward.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said over my shoulder.

  Bitsy opened and closed her mouth as if wishing the right words would come to mind, commanding us to stay, but we were quickly out of range.

  “Sorry about that. That woman has gotten under my skin since I was a teenager.”

  “Family friend?”

  “Unfortunately. She and my mom were society sisters. They’ve maintained the friendship over the years, and I’ve escaped for the most part.”

  “Except for high school,” I joked.

  “Oh yes. Thankfully my judgement has improved.”

  I cleared my throat uncomfortably but didn’t respond.

  “So lunch, what do you say? I haven’t shown you my favorite spot yet.”

  I found that hard to believe. We had walked miles of trails, taking in such beauty that I couldn't imagine any other site more spectacular than the ones I had already seen, but I trusted Jake. “Well, how can I turn down an offer like that?”

  Jake surprised me by taking me back to the truck. For a moment, I thought we were going off site. Perhaps his favorite spot wasn’t located within the official grounds, but he drove us deeper into the property, following the signs until we pulled into Antler Hill Village.

  "The property’s been updated to include a couple of hotels and a winery. When Vanderbilt originally designed the land, he saw the village as acting as a real working village, complete with a doctor's office and post office. But now it's more of a quaint tourist area with restaurants, little shops, a winery … things like that.”

  “Yeah, I see that.”

  “Is there anything you don't like?" Jake nodded toward the street ahead, and I knew he meant food.

  "No, I'm a bit of a foodie. I'll try just about anything once."

  "Excellent. Why don't you wait right here. I'll just run in and grab us lunch to go."

  I had started to unbuckle my seatbelt to get out of the truck, but at that comment, I left it in place. "Okay sure. That sounds nice."

  "I'll be right back."

  I settled back into the truck and took my phone out of my purse to see if I had any missed calls. No missed calls, but I did have a text from Gran. Having fun with the hottie? She put a winking face emoticon after it. I felt myself blush because, yes. Yes, I was having a very good time with Jake. I replied that I was and asked how things were going there. Gran immediately responded with a thumbs-up. I laughed. Sometimes I swear the woman was hipper than I was. I only hoped to be half as cool as she was when I was seventy.

  Gran’s text inspired me to go ahead and reach out to Greta via text as well.

  Just wondering if you still needed help with that furniture. I took a quick day trip, but I'm free tomorrow. Just let me know.

  Greta replied almost instantly. Tomorrow’s great. I’ll plan on it.

  A few minutes later, Jake came back into view carrying an honest-to-goodness wicker picnic basket. He opened the truck’s back door, put the basket inside, and then came back up front and took his place behind the wheel.

  I responded with raised eyebrows.

  “You can order baskets to go from the bistro.” Jake looked sheepish. It was a cute look on him.

  I didn't say anything as he navigated out of the parking lot and drove back down the main lane that wrapped around the property and parked once more.

  “Mind a little walk?”

  “No, lead the way.”

  Within a few moments, we were back at the home’s South Terrace. Jake led me down the steps, through the long trellis by the Shrub Garden, and through the black iron gate. Rolling pasture with sweeping views of the mountains greeted us. We walked up the hills, revealing wonderful side views of the main house, until we reached the lagoon.

  “Here look good?”

  I turned. The back of a house was perched gloriously on the hilltop, the water in front of it.

  “Could it get any more beautiful?”

  “I don’t think so, but Christmastime gives it a run for its money.”

  “I bet. Have you been?”

  “Only every year. My mom used to insist we come to the lighting ceremony. I complained the whole time, but of course, I secretly loved it. In fact, back in George Vanderbilt's time, he was famous for his Christmas party. He would invite all the staff and buy a gift for each child.” Jake opened the picnic basket and began to set up our lunch. I was surprised the basket had contained a Biltmore embroidered plaid blanket, but at this point, maybe I shouldn’t have been.

  I helped him lay out the blanket and took a seat. “He was charitable. Whatever happened to him and his family?"

  "He died from an appendectomy gone wrong, but the estate is still privately held by his family. Although I'm pretty sure it hasn't been a family home since the mid-nineteen fifties. I could be wrong about that though. Only thirty of the two hundred and fifty rooms are open to the public.”

  “Wow. That’s a whole lot of real estate.”

  “I took a chance and went with white,” Jake said, removing the bottle of wine and using the corkscrew to open it.

  I looked in the basket and found two wine glasses. They were real glass. Was this place for real? I held them for Jake to pour the wine and then sampled it. It was sweet and crisp. I may have sighed.

  “Good?” Jake sampled his.

  “Perfect. What else do we have?”

  “Let’s see, we have our artisan cheese, some grapes and strawberries. Oh, here’s some cra
ckers. Toasted almonds.”

  “Now that’s fancy.” I took the packet of almonds from Jake.

  “Shrimp cocktail. Don’t forget the horseradish sauce. A green salad. Here’s the champagne vinaigrette. Oh, and what are these, all wrapped up? Roast beef tenderloin sandwiches.”

  “What, no dessert?” I joked.

  “Not so fast.” Jake removed one last item. “Angel food cake with vanilla-infused berries,” he said, reading the label.

  “Oh my goodness. This is seriously amazing. Thank you.”

  Jake wasted no time in plating the food and we started sampling it all. “Man, I may never leave.” I bit into one of the freshest strawberries ever. It was probably grown on site.

  “This is how the rich live. It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake spread the goat cheese on a cracker, topping it with a slice of almond before popping it into his mouth.

  “That it is.”

  The food was delicious, the company even better, and I found myself asking how I ended up on the most romantic date of my life with a man who didn't even know my real name. I took a sip of my wine and held in the sigh that threatened to escape. I wasn't about to ruin this perfect afternoon. Whatever happened in the future, I would always have this blissful afternoon to remember my friendship with Jake.

  “So, are your parents still in Georgia?”

  "My parents, ugh, yes, they are. That’s part of the reason I’m not.”

  “Sounds like there’s a story there.” Jake leaned back on his elbow, his feet laid out in front of him, crossed at the ankle.

  I tucked one of my long blonde locks behind my ear. “I don't even know where to start. We have what you might call a complicated relationship.”

  “Ha, have you met my mother?”

  “True. Our mothers would be great friends.”

  “I can drink to that.” At that, Jake lifted his glass and clinked it with mine. We both took a sip.

  “My mother has never approved of my career aspirations. But then again, she doesn't think a woman should work outside of the home." I shrugged my shoulders. “So there's that."