Arcatraissa (Free Sample)

One

I stared wide-eyed out the car window as my father pulled into the gravel driveway of the huge house. Surrounded by sprawling, manicured grounds, it was beautiful in that way old houses have, with brick steps leading up to a raised porch, complete with a gently rocking porch swing, and large windows that held soft white curtains. White columns led from the edges of the front porch up to a balcony that I could imagine the heroine of some fairytale standing on, awaiting her forbidden love Romeo-and-Juliet-style, so storybook it was hard to believe it was real. Despite its age it was well-kept, from its polished glass to its pristine white shingles to its redbrick chimneys. It wasn't flashy or over-the-top in its design but still carried an air of grandeur, like it was made for somebody of wealth and power and was proud of that. I knew my family had neither wealth nor power, but at one point they had.

"What do you think?" Dad asked, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. "Isn't it incredible?"

"It's been in the family for over a hundred years," Mom added. I nodded mutely, grabbing my bag as I stepped out of the car. It was incredible. Much better than I'd imagined. "My great-grandfather built it himself. His two children were born here, and their children, and so on. I grew up here."

How I wished I had grown up here, instead of in a cramped city apartment.

Before I could say anything the front door opened and a shout reached us. "Sandra!" a woman called, hurrying down the steps. "Sandy! It's so good to see you. How have you been?" She stopped in front of my mother, clasping her hands and grinning as she spoke. She was a stick-thin woman, now old and frail but obviously once beautiful, with a puff of white hair pulled back away from her face and a warm, crinkle-eyed smile. Before she gave my mother a chance to respond she turned to my father, shouting, "Jacob! You were just a gawky seventeen-year-old the last time I saw you. And this must be your daughter."

I forced a smile as she studied me, her blue eyes gleaming. "Yes, this is Cassie," Mom said, putting a light hand on my shoulder. "Cassie, this is Mrs. Thurston. She's Aunt Julia's caretaker."

"Nice to meet you," I said softly. I didn't really know anything about what was going on with Aunt Julia but the idea of her needing a caretaker—and one who had to be twice her age—made it seem a lot more serious.

Mrs. Thurston shook my hand, her grip surprisingly strong given her thin hands. "It's wonderful to meet you. Come in, come in. Julia's asleep right now, but I'll make tea and we can catch up, and when she's awake you can go up and see her."

I trailed after her and my parents as they entered the house, which was equally amazing on the inside. The floors were shiny, dark wood, the walls a cream color decorated with framed paintings. A small table in the entrance held a pot of fresh yellow flowers—irises, I thought—among several framed photos. Most were of who I assumed were my mother and Aunt Julia as children, a pair of pretty redheaded little girls smiling for the camera over the years. Several showed my grandparents as well, who I had only met a few times before they'd passed away. In my faint memories they had been kind but strict, always concerned with appearances. They'd humored my 5-year-old fantasies only reluctantly.

"I was about to take those up to Julia," Mrs. Thurston said when she caught me looking, nodding to the flowers. "They arrived just before you did. Would you like to take them up while I make the tea?"

"Go on, Cass, it'll let you get more familiar with the house," Mom encouraged me. I suspected mainly because she wanted a chance for just the adults to talk about Julia. Ever since we'd gotten the news my parents had kept hush-hush about it around me, as if I was too young to understand illness or death.

I shrugged and lifted the pot carefully, seeing no reason to argue. Besides, I was eager to get a better look at the house. "Sure. Where is she?"

"Just up the stairs there, turn left, and it's the second door on the right. Please be careful not to wake her, she needs her rest. She'll be happy to get those, though. They're from an old friend of hers."