ONE BORN EVERY MINUTE
Ally stood silently on the banks, staring out into the ocean. The rain whipped wildly against her, pitching wet leathery leaves at her ankles.
She shuddered as she bent to pick one up. The memory of that night was a stain on her life; one she could never erase from her mind.
It was her; had always been her. Today was no different, and her sisters were counting on her. She swallowed hard and wiped the tears from her eyes as she struggled to maintain her composure. “Well, here we go again,’ she sighed.
Bentwood Shores seemed a nice sort of town. It was small and quiet. That met two of the requirements.
She had driven up on a Tuesday last week. The summer was just beginning to turn, and the air was filled with the sweet smell of hay as it dried in bails under the last of its dry heat.
She had loved the gently rolling fields dotted with the last of the farmers’ crops that edged highway 62 as it wound its way slowly into town.
The quaint picket fences and brightly colored clap board farm houses with their well-appointed front porches, and the large sturdy oaks seemed to set her at ease.
Even the downtown core echoed a simpler way of life; the early eighteenth century architecture, the cobbled stone pathways, the old train station that was still the primary passenger travel service.
It was evident not much had changed in the last two hundred years, nor was it about to.
Ally made her way back to Belle. She pulled her keys from her coat pocket and unlocked the door, which seemed such a silly thing, but she had to be careful.
She slid in and put the keys into the ignition. Belle was her one true prized possession. Truth be told, things held little meaning for her, but Belle had been in the family for over two hundred years, and had belonged to her father.
She turned over the ignition and pulled out onto the road. The Van Wolf manor was just over the crest of the next hill. She hoped she wasn’t late.
**********
Samantha smoothed her skirt and checked her watch. It was a quarter to nine. The storm clouds had begun to clear, and the moon cast a shimmering glow across the dark waves and lit the black craggy rocks along the shoreline.
She cast her cigarette into the cold damp sand and made her way back to the house.
The last drag billowed from the corner of her mouth like a locomotive steam engine.
As she strode up the circular drive past her Jetta she could hear the muffled tune of “Party Like a Rock Star” blurting from the bottom of her Hermes bag.
“Oh, Christ! What now?” She yanked open her bag and foraged for her phone. “Hello?”
It was Rebecca Stowes. “Becs, what up?” “I’m meeting a client.” “The old Van Wolf estate.” “I know, right? I mean, who in their right mind would buy such a dump? Place gives me the creeps! But, God, if I synch this deal, I’m flush for the next three months, so.” “Hell, yes. Actually, it’s worth a lot more on paper, but the place hasn’t had any action in over fifty years. Rands just wants to settle the estate and get on with it, you know?” “Oh, shit. Here she is.” “Okay, I’ll call you later; we’ll go for drinks, okay?” “Bye.”
Ally pulled Belle up next to the white Jetta. The house seemed to sway and pitch against the black sky as the branches of a nearby willow cast their dancing shadows across its old brick exterior, awash under the moon. Maybe this was a mistake. Ally stepped out of the car.
“Samantha?”
Samantha stepped out from the shadows. “Hi! I was beginning to wonder if I wrote down the wrong date and time. So glad you made it up okay; what a night, hugh?”
“Oh. Yes, it was quite miserable earlier,” Ally acknowledged. Thank you for meeting me with such little notice.”
“No worries. Well, I brought the paperwork with me, so if you would like to go in?” It was more a question than a gesture of protocol. The last thing Samantha wanted to do on a night like this, was go inside that creepy old house.
Ally made her way up the front steps and waited for Samantha to unlock the door.
“I’m sorry. There’s no place to hang your coat,” Samantha stated. “But we can use the kitchen to sign the papers and such.”
Ally smiled, removed her coat, and draped it over the banister, then followed her into the kitchen.
The fourier was large and paneled in oak wood with a handsome navy striped wallpaper to compliment. A curved oak double stairway lead to the second floor and was flanked on either side with arched openings to the kitchen, which ran the full width along the back of the house. There was a formal dining room to the right with a walk off to a main floor bathroom and laundry room, and a gathering room to the left. An enclosed sun room ran the length of the kitchen, and there were two covered back porches either side of it. With four bedrooms and two baths on the second floor, and storage in the attic on a third floor, Ally could hardly balk at the run down condition.
She reminded herself of these things now as Samantha opened a folder of paperwork and began to lay it all out on the cracked glazed-tile counter top.
Ally glanced around the kitchen for the second time in two weeks. The cabinets were old and showed their age. The layers of paint applied over the years prevented the drawers from fully closing, and two of the doors hung away from the cabinets off their hinges. The old plaster walls wore their paint like hard baked mud under the sun, and the only lighting was a cast iron candle chandelier straight out of the sixteenth century. This aside, there was something about this old kitchen that warmed Ally’s heart. Was it the old round European stone fireplace, the rough barn wood harvest table that had been left behind like a worn out old shoe, or the plank floors, aged with time and centuries of wax?
“Charm.”
“What?” Samantha was staring at her in that familiar way Ally had gotten used to.
Ally blushed. “Oh, I was just thinking that this place has a certain, charm, about it.”
“Uh, yeah. Well, sign right here, here, and here, and that will just about do it!”
Ally took up the pen and made her signature on each of the last three lines.
Samantha hurriedly gathered up the papers, stuffed them into the folder, and shoved them into her bag. She smiled and extended a cool, limp hand. “Ms. Cauldron.”
Ally smiled tightly, shook Samantha’s hand, and shrugged her shoulders. I guess that’s it then. She turned on her heals and walked ahead of Samantha back to the door.
“When will we be able to take possession?”
“As soon as this paperwork goes through and your check clears. Generally, about two weeks. But I will definitely call you as soon as it does, and I can meet you here with the keys.”
Ally grabbed her coat and slipped her arms inside. There was an awkward silence as she buttoned it up and put on her hat. She felt her stomach tighten. “Alright then. I will await your call.”
Samantha opened the door and set the latch as Ally stepped out into the cool night air. “I will walk you to your car.”
Ally spun around and shot Samantha a nervous look. “Oh, there’s no need. I mean, this is such a peaceful little town. I can’t imagine there being anything to be wary of, right?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Nothing at all.” Samantha turned, rolled her eyes, and checked the lock as Ally walked to her car.
She turned off the light, and descended the stairs. As she turned to head for her Jetta, her shadow stretched out ahead of her with a flood of light that suddenly spilled across the front porch. “I could have sworn I just turned that light off.” Samantha pursed her lips and furrowed her brow.
“Hmmmm. I’ll have to remind Rands to check the wiring on that sorry excuse for a lamp.” She followed Samantha to where the two cars sat parked beneath the arching willow tree branches, being careful to choose her steps along the rough brick drive heaving with large ant colonies.
‘God. I can’t wait to rid Hawk and Sells Real-estate of this retched old dump!’ Samantha muttered under her breath.
Ally turned her head as she neared Belle. “I beg your pardon, Miss Sells. What did you say?”
“Oh, ah, I was just saying I’ll be sure to call you if anything comes up!”
Ally shot Samantha a questioning glance. The last thing she needed was for anything else to go wrong. She drew a deep breathe and set her jaw. Everything was going to be just fine. She just needed to give things a little time….and a whole lot of resolve. “Yes, of course. Well, goodnight Miss Sells.”
As Ally pulled out onto the tarmac, Samantha took out her phone and started punching Becca’s digits in.
“Becca? Sam. God, I so need a drink! Meet me in ten?” Samantha yanked open the door on her Jetta and tossed the folder into the back seat.
“Yup. It’s in the bag!” Samantha pulled back the phone as Rebecca squealed in her ear.
Samantha hadn’t sold a house in months, but landing the Van Wolf estate would be the envy of her office and likely, a one way ticket to senior sales rep. With all the stories going around, Samantha could hardly believe it herself.
“Well, what can I say, Becs? There’s one born every minute.”
Cauldron's Landing 