AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maria smiled and pointed to the four sofas which were arranged across from each other in a square, with a huge coffee table in the middle.
"Please have a seat. Lunch will be served in fifteen minutes. Mrs. Marshall is on the phone but will join you shortly."
"Thank you," I said and went to the window. "I'll just stand here and admire the view for a while."
Maria nodded and went to the kitchen area, which was off to the side. There was a man in the kitchen arranging food on trays. He was wearing a chef's hat and white jacket.
She had a maid and a chef...
The furnishings were very high end -- even little old Country Mouse me could recognize that. Huge paintings covered the interior walls, and there was a grand piano in one corner of the floor. I wondered who played. I could imagine Dana as a young girl sitting at that piano, taking lessons. I walked over to it, drawn to such a beautiful piano. It was an old Steinway, shiny black. There was some music there, and I glanced at it. Reverie by Debussy. The piano keyboard was open, so I touched the keys and played the first bar, struggling to read the music. The sound was fantastic, and so I pulled out the bench and sat down, deciding if Mrs. Marshall was going to be a few moments, why not?
I hadn't played piano for a long time, years in fact. Neither Candace or I could afford to buy even the cheapest piano and pay someone to haul it up to the apartment, so I went without. Gingerly, I played, searching out the keys from instinct, having taken lessons for several years. The piece was beyond my skill level, but I managed to play the first few bars.
It was of course at that moment that Mrs. Marshall entered the room.
"Do you play?" she asked.
I took my hands off the keyboard and stood up, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
"Not really," I said. "I took a few years of lessons when I was young, but we moved to a house where we couldn't keep a piano and so my lessons stopped."
She clicked her tongue. "How sad," she said. "Grant and I always made sure to have a piano so bot
h our children could take lessons."
"Really?" I said, trying not to sound impertinent. "Did Luke take lessons?"
"He did, for five years. He was very good, of course. What can you expect, given his mother? She was a prodigy."
"Well, my parents did provide us with lessons, but we moved to this tiny base and had to live in temporary housing and there was no room for a piano, so..." I shrugged, like it was beyond our family's control, which it was.
"How unfortunate for you." She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "To be deprived of a music education is so sad. Come. Lunch is ready."
I pushed the bench back in and followed her back to the dining area where there was a huge dark wood table set with two place settings at one end. Her place was at the head, of course, and I was beside her. Everything looked so high end to me -- the china, the silverware, the crystal glasses. It looked like something in a decorating magazine.
Not that I read decorating magazines, but I occasionally saw them in the grocery store showing some amazing dining room set up. Of course, with the kind of fortune the Marshalls had, they could afford the very best. Of everything.
"Have a seat," she said and pointed to my place. I did and sat down, taking the folded cloth napkin off the plate and laying it on my lap. I had the sense that I wasn't going to enjoy myself, even if the food was amazing, which I expected it would be. Everything was just way too formal for me.
From out of a separate room came another man dressed in a suit and tie. He carried with him a bottle of what looked like white wine, a towel draped over his arm.
A sommelier.
I could have shaken my head. Mrs. Marshall was either trying to impress me, or the rich really were different.
A maid. A chef. And a Sommelier.
"I have a lovely Vinho Verde for you today, Ma'am," the man said. "It's an Alianca 2017 from Portugal."
"Oh, thank you, Marcus. That sounds perfect."
Marcus removed the cork and poured a small amount into Mrs. Marshall's glass. She smelled the wine and then tasted it, nodding appreciatively at Marcus when she swallowed.
"Very nice. Thank you. It's a very good choice."
"You're very welcome, Ma'am."
He proceeded to pour us both a glass. Then, he placed the bottle in an ice bucket on the table beside Mrs. Marshall.
