“Welcome to Cedarthorne.My name is Briggs.Come in, please.Introductions will be over lunch,” Briggs said, as he moved back toward the house, and opened the large front oak doors.
Sal took Rafa’s hand and gripped it tightly as they walked through the door.There was an energy to the house that she could not place, and from the way Rafa pulled her closely, he must’ve felt it too.Briggs closed the door behind them with a dull thud.The stories she recalled on the way there and Willow’s unease came rushing back to her.She hoped this deal would finalize quickly.
RAFA
Rafa did not know what he expected upon entering the dilapidated mansion.But once inside, the contrast with the crumbling exterior surprised him.It was as if he had stepped into another house, one with rich tapestries, ornately framed portraits, polished wood, and Persian rugs.There were even fresh flowers meticulously placed in clear vases on every varnished end table and in each sitting room they passed.Sal looked equally astonished, her large dark eyes even rounder than usual with awe.
Mr.Briggs led them past a grand wooden staircase lined with an array of painted portraits on the wall, and a grandfather clock just at the foot of it.He stopped at what appeared to be the receiving room and held the lapels of his suit.“My master will be with us shortly.I suggest you take in the view while you wait.The terrace has the best view of the estate.”
He opened the two glass terrace doors and let them relish the sight.A stunning vista of a beautiful garden, complete with old, steep stone walkways that led to a private dock on the lake, stretched out from the terrace.From there, he could make out St.Stephenshire.It looked otherworldly, and for the first time, he understood the magnitude of how large and deep the Emerald Lake was.He had never seen it from this side of town; unlike Sal’s view from her small outdoor patio, which only showed a portion of the lake.
This was not the first time he had seen extraordinary properties, especially with his circle of friends.He had visited a friend’s medieval castle in Italy one summer and attended weddings in vistas, châteaus, and vineyards.He even had his crown jewel—his super-bungalow bachelor pad, as Sal called it—in Cannon Beach, with a zen garden of his own overlooking the Pacific Ocean.Not even a lake like this one, but the ocean.And yet, something about this old estate stirred him, perhaps because its excessive beauty had been hidden from everyone in St.Stephenshire.Thinking about the town now just made it seem even more quaint and cozy; St.Stephenshire’s charm was not found in anything grand.The small everyday comforts built St.Stephenshire’s allure.It seemed strange that this place was part of it.
“It’s boiling hot,” said Sal as she walked backward to the terrace’s awning.She was right.It was hot—scorching, even.And during their perpetual autumn?Rafa was so taken aback by what he saw that he had forgotten the heat.In a moment, he walked back into the shade with Sal, obscuring the otherwise perfect view.
“Oh yes, yes.Apologies for the heat.”Briggs offered them a place to sit in the shade.With a minor delay, a servant offered them two tall glasses of iced lemonade.The ice clinked satisfactorily against the glass.Briggs added, sounding very apologetic, “You’ll find that not all rumors about this place are fabricated; the bit about the weather going awry is true.”
“How do you manage?”Sal asked, looking invested in the sight before her.
“We have a lot of help from the mayor.He was so grateful that someone was keen on staying here, so he offered to help with renovations, repairs and such.The seasons change here so often.Some weeks are cool and glum, with no sunshine, and then in a few days, it will be scorching hot.”
“Sounds challenging,” Sal agreed.“Do you mind if I visit the garden?I live on the other side of the lake.I’d like to check if I can see my house from there.”
Briggs looked delighted by her question.“Of course.I have a sun hat you could use and sunglasses.We have unused ones ready, just in case.”He eagerly disappeared into the house and came out mere minutes later with both in hand.
Sal took the accessories and turned to Rafa.“You want to come with?”She placed her hand on his.
Rafa kissed her hand.“I’ll stay here,” he said, wearing the sunglasses Briggs had given them.“I like the view.”
Sal nodded, and in a few moments, she was off with Briggs.
Rafa squinted in the sunlight as he watched Sal trot off to the garden just below.Something Briggs had said made him pause.‘We have unused ones, just in case’—just in case, he repeated to himself.How long had they been here?Why were they prepared for visitors?Were they from these parts?If they were, how come none of them were familiar to him?Not the gardener, or Briggs the caretaker.It was all strange.
His eyes stayed fixed on the twinkling Emerald Lake—the same lake that took Claire years ago.His mood darkened at the thought of her.It felt almost foreboding, how just years ago he was joking with Claire about Cedarthorne Mansion as it came into view during one of their talks by the lake.She would fabricate stories about it being inhabited by the ghost of an old, embittered lady forever trapped within its walls.And yet, there he was, sipping lemonade on the very terrace he would sometimes spot in the murky fog from a distance.There were no ghosts, no wailing poltergeists.Just people and their blooming gardens, and an extra supply of sunglasses and sunhats.
Briggs’s voice snapped him from his thoughts.“There he is!”he exclaimed.
Rafa faced the same direction as Briggs and Sal.He saw a figure emerging on the lake in a boat, and in the approaching boat was a solitary man.Inch by inch, the man drew the boat near the dock, alighted from it, and then made his way up the stony pathway to Sal.Surprise took over Rafa when he finally determined who the buyer was.
Chapter Seven
The Man in the Lake
SAL
FragrantflowersguidedSalon her descent to the garden that hot afternoon.She hardly needed the sunhat because the yellow elder flowers had engulfed the trellis leading to the garden.She looked at them in awe.The sun’s rays poured through the little cracks into what now looked like a tunnel of flowers spilling pockets of sunshine as she continued her descent.The flowers swayed as she passed them, as if sighing with relief that someone had finally seen them in all their beauty.She imagined them playfully beckoning her to the end of the tunnel, like they were whispering,Come see our sisters, the azaleas, the lilies, the white roses, and the peonies.We are vibrant today; won’t you move closer and admire us?
When she emerged from the tunnel, it was like a dream, a bright, colorful dream.She thought there would be sadness and dullness on this estate, but it was the opposite.It felt like summer with the sticky, humid air, the fragrant flowers, and the scorching sun warming her skin.It was strangely familiar—like home.The Philippines.Her motherland.It had been so long, but there it was, a dull ache that could only be homesickness.But why did she feel like it was much more?
“Madame, you will have a headache if you walk out in the sun without a hat,” said Briggs.
Sal hadn’t realized she had removed the sunhat.She looked down at it in her hands and laughed.“Oh!I’m used to this heat; I must’ve taken off the hat.I’m from the Philippines.It’s hotter there during the summer,” she said, smiling at him.
“Really?”Briggs looked pleasantly surprised.“I can see now why your beauty differs from the usual I see around here, madame.”
Sal was not used to receiving flattery from someone she barely knew.But there was something so earnest about Briggs that it warmed her.“Thank you,” she said.
She looked past the beautiful flower garden and the emerald lake to her cottage on the other side.Instead, a floating shape intercepted her view.It approached with a steadiness.The wind picked up, and the flowers swayed, their musk perfuming the surrounding air.Soon, the obscure shape emerged; it was a man reading on a boat.A man?Reading a book on a boat in this heat?He must be an eccentric,Sal deduced.He also looked strangely familiar.She couldn’t tell with his head down, buried in the book and with a pair of thick-rimmed glasses on.The way the sunlight framed his masculine features made him seem like a lonely river god, casually loitering around his kingdom.Perfect, still, and isolated.His black hair hung loosely, hovering over his cheekbones, and his skin looked like ivory.The man’s deep black hair and fair skin were such a contrast against the green of the lake that the scene would have made for a beautiful painting.
