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Lennon gives me aSeriously?look as we climb out of the car and grab our bags. I pay the driver and then we head toward the front door.
“It’s bigger than I remember,” I tell her.
She snorts.
I’ve only been here once before, and it was a short trip. I register the exterior like it’s the first time I’m seeing it.
The stone and wood construction is covered by a black metal roof barely visible beneath a dusting of snow. Floor to ceiling windows serve the dual purpose of exposing the interior and providing a sweeping view of the surrounding scenery. Tall, proud pines stand between the columns that flank the front door.
Lennon stops once she reaches the front porch, looking off to the right. I pause when I reach her.
This is one part of the chalet I didn’t forget. The front side overlooks the town below where we started from. If you look out from any other angle of the house, all you can see is snow-dusted mountains and evergreens.
No civilization, just wilderness.
Whoever the real estate agent was who pocketed the heavy commission on this property had the wholelocation, location, locationline in spades. The house itself is gorgeous. The view is stall-your-breath stunning.
“Wow. I didn’t realize we were up this high,” Lennon says, surveying the drop below.
We’re not looking up at the peaks; it feels like we’re part of one of them.
“Yeah, the view is nice,” I agree.
Lennon laughs. “Nice?”
“Come on. The house is not too bad either,” I tell her.
I open the front door and gesture for Lennon to enter first.
The layout is mostly open. The kitchen, living room, and dining room all meld together as soon as you pass through the entryway.
Lennon stops in place as soon as we do. The far wall is completely composed of windows made from glass squares framed by black wood. It has the effect of appearing as though the wall is covered by a photograph collage of the same breathtaking view we were admiring outside, pieced together in perfect scale.
“You’re here!”
I turn to see my mother descending the staircase that curls around the far side of the gourmet kitchen.
“I sent you our flight number so you’d know exactly when we were arriving,” I reply.
Based on her tone, you’d think we dropped out of the sky unexpectedly, rather than the fact that the only reason we’re here is repeated badgering. It doesn’t bode well for the rest of this visit.
“Right.” My mother lets out a nervous laugh. “Well, come on in and get settled. The other guests should be arriving shortly.”
“Other guests?” I ask, flatly.
“The St. Jameses are staying with us for a few days.”
I close my eyes briefly, so, so tempted to just walk back out the front door. I should have known she was incapable of not pulling this kind of shit. It shouldn’t even matter that she doesn’t know how persistent Sophie has been and she’s only hoping throwing us together will spark interest.
“Why?”
Another nervous laugh, paired with a hair pat. “I was talking with Eloise, and she said they didn’t have any plans. So I thought it would be nice to include them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were including them? Or better, ask me before you did?” I pretend to think about it. “I think I know why. Because you knew I wouldn’t come.” I shake my head. “The manipulation is getting really old, Mom.”
I’m not harboring any delusions my mother invited Sophie and her family for any reason besides a distraction from getting to know Lennon and another attempt to shove me in Sophie’s direction.
“There’s plenty of room, Caleb. It looks like this place could sleep twenty.”
