The Gift of the Twin Houses Read online

  Conrad leaned over and kissed me. “You are so kissable when you get worried,” he uttered between kisses.

  “Don’t stop,” I muttered, “but when you have time, it’ll be great if we knew about Jeremy. You think he was Angela’s uncle? Were there any other children?”

  He laughed and laughed and then nodded and said, “OK, one-track Sarah, I’ll look into it. I believe that Stuart married a Linda, although I remember a Claudia in the mix. Like I said, haven’t paid much attention really, and Granddad didn’t speak of his folks as much as Grandma Angela did. I’ll take a look. What will you do with the information if it turns out you’re right?”

  “I don’t know. It’s all garbled in my head. To begin with, there are only questions and so far no answers. For instance, why do I hear these stories? Why am I experiencing true stories from years past? Some stories are told to me, some I witness, in some I’m a participant, and others I live as if I were there, even though I know I’m not.”

  “I can’t help you there. I’m just as baffled. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see. It looks as if every time you see a photo that was silent before and decides to speak or does whatever it is these pictures do, you learn something new. Just give them time.”

  “But you’ll find out about Jeremy, won’t you?”

  He laughed again, “Yes, I will; don’t worry. Now let’s go outside, take a stroll, and enjoy the outdoor lights and the crisp winter night. How about it?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Hand in hand we headed deep into the valley till we lost sight of the lights. As we strolled back, the Christmas lights twinkled through the trees, a beacon welcoming us home. Conrad held me in his arms to say good night, and we kissed, giving into the sensation of our lips gliding, exploring, taking pleasure in each other.

  As I slid into bed, I reflected on the unusual emergence of the sepia photographs. The love expressed by Ethan, the happiness he’d found growing old in our valley, and how, along with his wife, Caroline, and Amy and Christopher, they’d cared for the twin houses. How ironic, that in the end, the unwanted birth of the houses hadn’t destroyed them but instead given pleasure to the heirs of their builder.

  Yet Ethan’s story was incomplete. Leonard’s death troubled him. Why insist on retelling his life story to his father? Maybe it had been for my benefit, to tell me the story. The remaining question, after all these years, was why Ethan didn’t know how his father had died. And what about Louise? How did she die?

  Each story presented a piece of a puzzle; some had fallen into place, but many more remained beyond my reach.

  Chapter 18

  Heather Lewis 1915-1940

  “The house looked lovely, and the woman who sold it to me was so sad, with such need to get away from her painful memories that I just couldn’t resist. I bought it right then and there. I was sure I could talk James into it.” Heather spoke quite directly.

  I’d been organizing the frames and the pictures in my attic when I saw the photograph of an elegant family standing in front of my porch. They didn’t look like they belonged there. They looked like four tourists posing for the camera in front of a quaint little house.

  I hadn’t heard any more stories since Ethan’s account and didn’t expect one today. Needless to say, Heather’s authoritative voice took me by surprise.

  “James would not care anyway,” Heather went on. “It was my money, and he knew it. I think it was the money that killed our marriage. He didn’t feel manly enough since he was not the primary breadwinner. The bread just came to him ready to enjoy, and he had forgotten how to take pleasure in it, given that the bigger portion came from me.”

  “How long did you own the house?” I dared to ask.

  “A long time. I do not exactly know. After a while we just forgot about it.”

  I heard myself gasp. “Forgot about it?”

  “Are you going to listen or are you going to interrupt me? I have no patience for that, you know.” She continued without the courtesy of waiting for an answer. “As I was saying, James was just too weak. It was not my fault that I had inherited a lot of money from my family. My father had built an empire from scratch, and I had inherited its proceeds as the only child—just a simple fact of life.

  “I married James when I was only eighteen—a good match, by all accounts. We were both born into wealthy families and were accustomed to lives of luxury; consequently, the match seemed perfect at the time. What we did not understand was that we should have had something more in common. Pity.

  “When my parents died, the money just poured in. James was rich as well and enjoyed the freedom the money brought, but obviously he resented my superior status. Or so I thought.

  “I became pregnant right away and had my two children. I did not know any better then. After the second was born, thank God, I dried up. Having two was hard enough. I do not know what I would have done had I had more children.

  “Of course, they had nannies, but that is not the point. It is what a pregnancy does to your body. Prior to the pregnancies I was beautiful, some would say perfect. But after the children ravaged my body, I lost that sharp look about me. No one noticed, and obviously it did not get in the way of enjoying men, since they’re always so willing and ready to please and be pleased. But I didn’t look as I wished to look.

  “Anyway, one day I was extremely bored and angry with James, who kept insisting that I ought to spend more time with my offsprings, when I decided to take some time away from everyone. I was tired of being told what to do or not do. Spending a little time by myself would give me the strength to deal with him and the children upon my return.

  “The train ride was spectacular. I liked making use of the very thing that brought economic bliss to our family. The Cascades, as usual, were stunning, and being within them, even while sheltered in a train compartment, felt quite invigorating.

  “I do not remember how I ended up in the picturesque little town or the house itself. Details of that nature do not seem to stay with me. I only recall sitting in the living room with the owner of the house signing the papers over a cup of coffee. I thought this quaint little house in the middle of nowhere would make a wonderful vacation home for the children.

  “There was so much for them to do around these parts, with the horses and the farm; they would be properly entertained. James would have no choice but to stop pestering me about paying attention to them. We could just send them off with their nannies, a couple of maids, and a butler to tend to them. There was something magical about this place, and all would be happy. Most important, I would be free of the burden.

  “My little escapade turned out to be just what the doctor ordered. I’d come with no purpose, and now here I was, doing something for the family.

  “But in the end, my selfish, spoiled little relations did not agree with me and furthermore did not even recognize the effort I had put into acquiring the house.

  “James thought that my actions were foolish and refused to consider sending the children to this part of the world on their own. They were too little, he said, and could not be sent away. So, we did not send them or go there ourselves and just forgot about the house.”

  I gasped again, but this time I was careful not to interfere. Heather paused for a moment in her narration. I could feel her thinking, remembering what had taken place. A million questions were crowding my mind. How could she forget the house? What happened to the animals? Is Heather the woman to whom Rachel sold the house? Did Rachel come back or did she stay in the house since Heather did not return? How about Angela—did she know the house had been forgotten?

  “Then, one day out of the blue I thought about the house again.” Heather was talking to me again, and I silenced my mind.

  “Summer. I think it was around 1928. Yes, I think so. It was a dreadful year, and I was bored with nothing to do, nothing to occupy my mind. James was off sailing again, and the children were getting on my nerves. So I just ordered us packed, and when James returned,
I announced that our entire little family, including him, was going on holiday to the house in the Cascades.

  “After we got there and discovered the shortcomings of the house, James was so angry he stopped speaking to me. When I bought the house I did not pay any attention to the number of bedrooms nor whether it had any servant quarters. Why worry about that? I thought all houses had servant quarters. But this house did not. It only had three bedrooms. That was the very first obstacle to our happy holiday.

  “James was beside himself and began to bark orders to settle us in. Every time I tried to intercede he stared at me, his eyes filled with fury, and his face would get terribly red as he pointed his index finger at me. I never knew what he meant by pointing that finger at me, but he looked so fierce that I decided it was best to just let him have his temper tantrum.

  “He sent the butler to the neighbors to ask if there was a way to house our servants, at least for the night, before going back home on the next train. Of course, there was nothing. The neighbors were just a simple family who could hardly make ends meet.

  “The lady of the house, a nice woman called Angela, walked over with her kids to see if she could be of assistance. I am usually not good with the names of people who do not travel in my social sphere. Come to think of it, I am not good at remembering names of people who are in my social sphere, either. Why crowd my mind with useless information? But I do remember Angela’s name. The reason I remember her name is for a very simple fact. In the end, I thought she was an angel for solving all of my problems, and her name of course says so. Simple.

  “She was young and probably my same age, yet she was quite wise. There was something about her that made you trust everything she said and did. There was a special sense about her. You liked her right away. That is a feat hard to achieve with someone like me, yet I was immediately partial to her.

  “First and foremost, you didn’t have to tell her anything about what you wanted or needed or what was acceptable. She just knew. With great ease she simply took control of the situation. First, and I cannot imagine how, she calmed James to the point that he agreed to go out for a ‘discovery walk,’ as she called it, with our children and hers. I couldn’t believe my eyes when James walked into the wilderness of the little valley with six youngsters.

  “‘Aidan, my eldest, is ten. He’ll guide you,’ Angela said to James. Then she turned to her children, and said, ‘Kids, this is Mr. Lewis and his children.

  This is Michael. He’s eight, like you, Brady, and his sister, Alice, is seven, just like your twin sisters, Casey and Deidre. Take good care of them.’

  “And off they went into the wilderness without any hesitation. I think I even heard James laugh as they crossed the valley.

  “Then, quite efficiently, Angela worked with our servants to set them up in the barn. It was such a horrid place for them to spend the night, but Angela made it sound so normal and so comfortable that none of them complained. Because it was summer, she assured us they would not be cold, but the place looked revolting to me. They, however, did not seem to mind at all, and anyway, it was just for one night.

  “Along with the servants, she took care of the inside of the house in an attempt to make us comfortable. I had bought the house with all of its furnishings, and to be honest I had not noticed how ugly and old they were. I had trouble just thinking of sitting on the dilapidated sofa, let alone sleeping in the master bedroom, if you could call it that.

  “The children’s bedrooms were just as bad. One was furnished with a little bed, an old sewing machine, and a bunch of knickknacks. The other bedroom, however, was more troublesome. It contained some old furniture and was decorated with cheap lace and doilies in such poor taste that it was simply unacceptable.

  “Somehow Angela knew how I felt about that particular room and took care of it. She was so efficient. They moved some of the old furniture out of that horrid little room into the attic, and then she put away all the doilies and changed the lace curtains for some plain curtains of her own. By the time she was finished, the children’s rooms were spare but tolerable. The main bedroom looked quite acceptable for one night. I could not tell you what she had done to create that change. It just looked different.

  “She also handled dinner arrangements, inviting all of us, and I do mean all of us, including the servants, to dinner with her family in her home.

  “I could not believe we would sit at the same table to eat dinner with the help, but James would not have it otherwise. ‘These are unpretentious folks,’ he told me, ‘and this is the way they do things. Just be gracious for once in your life.’ He said it with such conviction that I took offense at the implication that I was not gracious, but he would not dignify my anger with a good fight. He just ignored me.

  “Angela’s little home was quaint also. It looked just like ours, so I immediately understood why she knew her way around our house.

  “She offered us no cocktails, and conversation was not sophisticated at all. Not surprising, given the fact that we were out in the middle of nowhere, in the home of some horse ranchers and farmers, having dinner right along with our servants.

  “But I was pleasantly surprised. I enjoyed the food, and to my amazement, I took pleasure in learning about the personal lives of our maids and butler. This latter part was a clever ruse by our charming hostess, Angela.

  “She kept the conversation going by asking little innocent questions of us all, making small, clever comments that made us feel at ease, and as a result, before we knew it we had shared our lives.

  “I wanted to take notice of her technique so that I could use it at my dinner parties if the conversation stalled, but she caught me in her web of charm, and before I knew it, I had shared my own history with these strangers and our servants.

  “I felt so vulnerable when I finished. I could not believe I had spoken about my childhood and teenage trials and tribulations in front of everyone. James even looked taken aback. But I should not have worried. Angela had a remedy for that as well. Somehow she knew how I felt. Immediately she turned what I thought was too much information about me into just the opposite, by offering herself as prey. By the time she was finished telling us about her family’s history, I don’t think anyone remembered anything I had said. Actually, compared to Angela’s story, mine was unmemorable.

  “We all slept quite well, I might add, a rather surprising fact, given that James and I had not shared the same bed in years. I do not recall how it had come about, but one day we were both sleeping in separate rooms, leading separate lives. That night, however, we had no choice but to share a room and a bed.

  “After the nice dinner with Angela, and once the children were tucked in, and the servants were in the barn, James and I faced the unavoidable moment of having to cohabitate.

  “We awkwardly undressed, put on our nightwear, and got into bed. He felt so warm, considering that I was chilled to the bone. Satin does not blend well with rough living. He had not spoken a civil word to me all day so I did not expect him to start then.

  “But he did. ‘I asked Angela to care for the house for us.’ His voice echoed in the darkness of the bedroom.

  “‘Why would you do that?’ I asked him.

  “He didn’t hesitate when he answered. ‘We will not return here any time in the near future, and I think this house needs to be cared for by the caretaker of her twin.’ He said it with such certainty, it took me a minute to think it through. I thought that he had lost his mind, speaking of the house as a person, and sounding so corny. But something stopped me from blurting that out. Instead, I thought about what he said, and somehow found it to be a reasonable solution.

  “‘How much did you offer to pay her?’ I asked instead.

  “Once again he answered without hesitation and with a sense of absolute resolution, leaving no room for any argument. ‘I told her I would pay whatever she wanted. But she turned me down and said it would be her pleasure to do so. She said she loves this house and caring for it was th
e least she could do. I also asked her about the animals.’

  “I remember gasping, and then I whispered, ‘Oh, I didn’t think of the animals.. .how awful of me.. .I’m sorry. I...’ and I couldn’t finish the sentence. I felt so terribly guilty.

  “James went on though. ‘Turns out they’ve been caring for them since you bought the house. I asked her to take them all to her place.’ He paused, waiting to hear my reaction. I imagine he thought I’d explode with anger or something like that.

  “But I didn’t. Instead I asked, ‘What did she say to that?’ An unusual response coming from me, considering that normally I simply state my opinion.

  ‘She thanked me,’ he answered, ‘and told me it was nice that I cared for the animals enough to give them a proper home.’

  “He didn’t say anything for a few moments, and then I felt his hand touch mine. Under normal circumstances, I would have just yanked my hand away and gone somewhere else in the house, far from him. But I did not do any of that. Instead I welcomed his touch.”

  Heather paused, and I heard her sigh. She was silent for a while, remembering. An instant before I would’ve prompted her to go on, she started again.

  “Then he whispered, ‘Heather, I don’t think we should sell this house as we agreed earlier. Let’s just wait and see. This place is special.’ He sighed so deeply I could feel his emotions as if they were inside of me. I did not know why I was feeling these sensations. I had never felt so susceptible. It is not in my nature.

  “With my hand still in his, I asked him what he meant. I thought that my curiosity was more directed at finding answers about my feelings than concern for him, and yet my question seemed to imply the opposite.

  “He took a moment to respond, and then he spoke softly. ‘The walk with the children was delightful. Angela’s children are healthy, content, and infectiously happy. They are well read, well educated, and charming. You should have seen our children. They acted like they were in a candy store, not to buy something, mind you, just to enjoy it. The Cascades are so extraordinary, and this little valley with its farm and house cast a magical appeal. I can understand your impulse to buy the house. I would have done the same. Sorry I lost my temper.’ He sighed and so did I.