Open House
Converted Victorian;
front porch, enclosed rear deck
Full basement with
apartment with separate entrance
Three bedrooms on
second floor
Master bedroom with
balcony
State of the art
kitchen, dining area; 3 ½ baths
Large living room
with green marble fireplace
Extensive, well
manicured grounds with expert landscaping
Mrs. Elsa Mazza,
age 76, widow, peeked through the white, cut-work curtains. Her son, Frank,
stood outside with a realtor and prospective buyers. For her sweet yet stately
house. Where she had lived for 58 years. That her dear son was insistent on
selling. Over her dead body.
Elsa heard
Frank’s voice as he wrapped up his “why you should buy my Mom’s house” speech.
She smoothed her silvery curls, and hurried to join them.
“And this
is my mother now,” he said. “Pam, Nathan, would you like to see the house? I’ll
be right in after I show the engineering report to Ms. Sand.”
“Come on
in; you can call me Elsa,” she said brightly.
They
climbed the broad-plank oak steps onto the front porch. They looked up and admired the sky-blue
painted ceiling over the white wicker furniture scattered pleasingly in
conversational groupings.
“This color
always makes me think of heaven,” said Elsa sweetly. They voiced happy assent
as they followed her inside.
The couple
gazed at a blue Persian carpet in an ample foyer leading to a curved staircase.
“Careful as
you step my dears,” cooed Elsa, “the loose floor boards under that carpet can
give your ankle an awful twist if you step on them just right. Keep your heels
up.”
They
tiptoed awkwardly over the swirling palette of blues and pale pinks.
“I’ll show
you the dining room and kitchen first. It’s going to be your main source of
toil in your house after all,” she said, winking at Pam.
“Toil?”
asked Pam with a quavery laugh. “Why would you say that?”
“Well,
sweetie, we all know that good cooking is the only way to keep a man. How long
you been married lambs?”
“Six
years,” stated Nathan.
“Ah,
novices. I’m sure you’ll have many happy years together, just like me and my
Howard, God rest him. There he is.” She pointed to an ornate bottle with a
pressurized lid snuggled amongst tall jars of dried pasta.
“That’s…?”
“Yes Duck,
that’s Howard, all that’s left after 42 wonderful years together.”
Elsa nodded
at their bewildered faces. “Of course, his DNA’s all over the place. I watch a lot of CSI.”
“This room
was one of his favorite places,” she offered. “Thought it would be nice to keep
him near the ziti.”
They wandered
around the expansive kitchen, sun streaming in through rosetted rounds of inset
stained glass in lavender, mauve and leaf green. Pam leaned forward to look
into the oversized farmhouse sink. Elsa rushed over to place a large floral mug
on a black stain in the enamel basin.
She
chuckled and muttered, “Forgot to do that!” Then she walked over to carefully
push what was unmistakably an extra large mouse trap under the stove with her
foot.
“Ever
notice all the creepy-crawlies that get into your house when they clear trees
and such near by? They’re building a new
house down a ways from here and the poor little things have to find a new place
quick!” Elsa noticed a visible shiver run over Pam.
“Come on
darlins, through the dining room into the living room, a pretty space I call
the parlor.”
The couple
followed her through etched glass French doors into an expansive room whose
crowning glory was an elegant arched green marble fireplace alive with a
crackling fire. Pam and Nathan exclaimed with pleasure. Elsa proffered the
plush sofa; they seated themselves, and watched as their hostess revealed a tea
pot under a tea cozy that looked like a curled up cat. She poured fragrant tea
into delicate bisque china cups. Squirrels ate sunflower seeds on the outside
ledge of the picture window looking onto the front porch and lawn.
“How lovely
and peaceful it is to sit and reflect,” sighed Elsa. “Oh course, it wasn’t
quite this peaceful at other times. When we had the flood…”
“Flood!”
exclaimed Nathan.
“Flood,” agreed
Elsa nodding, “a few years back it was quite a struggle dragging out all those
old things stored in the basement. We’ve got these underground springs you
know. Sometimes they swell from the
rains and a cement wall is just no match for them. I’ll show you the water mark
behind the shelves down there when we go down into the dungeon. Ha yeah! That’s
just what my Howard used to call it! I do believe there’s some underground
tunnels that end up right outside those walls that lead to the streams. Heard
an old tale that people used to find them and get lost under there.” Elsa couldn’t miss the horrified look that
Nathan and Pam exchanged.
“Well, now
that we’ve had some refreshment, let’s go take a look upstairs!”
Elsa led the way up the curving staircase. She noticed that
Pam had a tight grip on Nathan’s hand. They saw the guest bedrooms first. Pale
yellow wallpaper with curling vines laden with pale pink rosebuds lined the
walls of one, and cream moiré wallpaper warmed the walls of the other. They walked down the L-shaped hallway
appointed with closets and shelves.
The master
bedroom was Wedgewood blue and white with a large bed covered with an airy lace
counterpane. On one side of the room was a loft tucked under the sloping
ceiling, above walk-in closets. They could just see a deep blue velvet chaise
lounge on the floor above.
“There’s a
wee stair case behind this little door. It’s a lovely place to read and dream.”
Pam sighed. “Howard passed away up there.” Pam’s sigh turned into a strangled
gasp. “Took me hours to figure out he wasn’t just asleep under his newspaper.
And there was a thunder boomer all afternoon and night. Couldn’t call anyone. Phones were out.”
She paused.
“Hot day too.”
Elsa walked
over to the arched white marble fireplace which housed a rack of lit candles.
“I talk to him here every night, just as if he was still up there, all quiet.”
A sharp
intake of breath behind her became a violent coughing fit. Pam was pounding her
chest as Nathan bowed over her.
“Here,
sweetheart, have some water,” said Elsa as she opened the door to the white and
lapis blue tiled bathroom. A sky light
made a hazy glow on the far wall. Elsa filled a small paper cup and handed it
to her.
“Course I
don’t generally drink the tap water.”
Pam hiccupped
and coughed.
“Not sure
what gives it that funny taste. Is it lead, or is it the pesticides?”
Pam put the
cup down.
Elsa walked
out onto the balcony. The view was of the neighbor’s yard.
“A balcony
is so romantic,” breathed Elsa. “And when you get a gander at the neighbors
skinny dipping in their pool at night when they throw those big parties it’s
better than the old drive-in!” She cackled and winked. “They keep the dogs in
for those.”
“You like to swim?”
Pam trailed
by Nathan was already heading for the door. They met Frank and Ms. Sand halfway
up the staircase.
“Your mother has given us a
charming tour of the house,” said Nathan stiffly. Pam’s strained smile met
their eyes. “We have to discuss it,” she squeaked.
They walked out onto the lawn and put
their heads together.
Frank eyed
his mother suspiciously. She was leading Ms. Sands of Happy Homes Realty over
to the living room fire.
“Cup of
tea?” she asked.
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