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"You know I hate surprises." Eliza mock-pouted.
"You'll like this one," he said mysteriously.
"Fine, be that way," she retorted, pretending to be miffed. She sighed, inhaling the woody, loamy scent of Jeremy's truck. Despite running his own successful landscaping business, Jeremy had yet to trade in his decades-old pickup for something more expensive. When he'd pulled into the driveway to pick her up
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earlier, his car had looked hilariously mismatched sitting next to Eliza's CLK convertible. But Eliza didn't mind. Maybe the old Eliza would have badgered her boyfriend to trade up as soon as he made more money, but this Eliza didn't care about image the way she'd used to. She liked Jeremy's truck. It was sensible and sturdy--just like him.
Jeremy drove into one of the quiet, secluded older neighborhoods in Sagaponack, filled with white clapboard houses and picket fences. The streets were lined with enormous maple trees bowed low, their green leaves blowing gently in the breeze. The sun was just beginning to set, giving the whole scene a warm, pinkish tint. "Close your eyes," he instructed.
"Do I have to?" she whined, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.
"Yes, and not one more peep from you, young lady." Jeremy put on a mock-serious, teacher-y voice, taking one hand off the wheel to wag a finger at her.
Eliza closed her eyes obediently. She hadn't been lying--she hated surprises. Eliza was the type of girl who made lists of presents for other people to get her every time Christmas or her birthday r
olled around. If she received a gift that deviated from the list, she promptly returned it for store credit. She could never even read a mystery novel without reading the last page first to see whodunit. She hated suspense. But she wanted to please her boyfriend.
She wondered what trick Jeremy had up his sleeve. He'd been
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acting anxious all evening, alternately jittery and excited. They were so comfortable with each other, so familiar with every crevice of each other's body, every variation on each other's moods, that she could tell instantly when something was going on. Sometimes she felt like they were turning into an old married couple.
The car came to an abrupt stop and Eliza heard Jeremy get out of the cab, walk around, and open her door.
"Can I open them now?" she asked.
"Not yet!" He took her elbow and helped her to the ground, steadying her as she wobbled a bit on her chunky white Calypso espadrilles. They walked forward a few feet.
"Okay, now," Jeremy said.
Eliza opened her eyes. She was standing in front of an old, regal mansion--one that needed a lot of work. The paint was peeling, the cornice crumbling. Still, it was beautiful. It reminded her a little bit of the dollhouse she'd played with as a kid, which had looked a bit like an old British manor--her own personal version of a Barbie dream house. "What's this?"
"Remember I told you about old lady Greyson? One of my oldest clients?"
"Yeah." Eliza nodded slowly. She vaguely remembered him talking about one of the old ladies whose gardens he tended, charging much less than he should have. Recently, he'd been acting as her pseudo-caretaker, making sure she'd taken her medicine and that she had enough groceries to see her through the week,
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feeding her cat, various little things. Jeremy was a sweetheart like that. But was this really her surprise? He'd taken her to meet some cranky, possibly senile old lady? Were they going to have to read her bedtime stories and give her an oatmeal sponge bath?
"Well, she passed away this week." Jeremy looked down at the ground, kicking at a pebble with his shoe.
"Oh--I'm so sorry." She touched his arm. Whoops. She felt like a jerk now. "I . . . didn't know you guys were so close."
"Neither did I," Jeremy said. He looked back up at her, his eyes shining. "She was a really sweet old lady." He paused. "Anyway, she didn't have any family. She used to say I was the only one who cared about her in the end, but I didn't realize it was true."
"That's so sad." Eliza wrinkled her brow. "It must be terrible to die alone."
Jeremy didn't seem to hear her. He was gazing at the house, as if in a trance. "She left me everything," he said softly. "Her entire estate, stocks, bonds, everything. Including the house." He continued to stare at it, as if he were hearing the news for the first time and not the one delivering it. "I know it looks like it's falling apart, but it's got good bones and it's in a great location. With a little work, a cosmetic touch-up, it could really be something."
Eliza looked at him. He was standing so still in the golden light, looking up at the old house as if it held all the answers in the universe. All at once it sank in for her what this meant. This house was his. "Oh my God! Jeremy!" Eliza squealed.
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"I know." He turned and smiled. "She always said she wanted the house to go to someone who would take care of it. Don't you think it's beautiful?"
