Mrs. Adelaine's House

The two-story house was charming, with black and brown wood paneling and window and door styles that signaled a more modern home than the house’s basic structure implied. Much of the charm came from the building’s age, but the promise of frequent upkeep (upgrades, you might even say) gripped my interests immediately. Our father, as a handyman, never let things go unfixed for long. The worst it got was none of our cars having AC, which we all bore well enough. Still, looking back I can see that we were… not privileged to have the nicest things-- little thinks, like shower faucets and painted bedroom walls. Absolute first-world problems, I’ll be the first to admit, but as a boy of nearly fifteen years, the idea of spending two weeks in a house with every nicety this rich Oregon-dweller could apparently afford sent a thrill through me.

The grass was vividly green, shining with the last drops of sprinkler water as my mother crossed it with our host, Mrs. Adelaine, stepping onto the concrete patio framed by neatly bounded bushes just slightly taller than me. The porch chairs on either side of the open door were inviting, despite the fact that I’d been sitting for five hours already. I left my bags in the van and followed, imagining how fun it would be to mow this particular lawn as I swished my sneakers through the grass to send tiny droplets flying.

“You can all follow me through the back, here,” Mrs. Adelaine said across her shoulder.

“This is the back door?” Isaac shouted from the van, matching my surprise. But looking around the east edge of the house, I could see the driveway curving around to a wide parking area surrounded by forest, and it was easy to imagine a larger, even more impressive entry on that side. Was it only rich people that could do things like put the actual front door facing away from the road? Or, was that a summer cottage thing in general? Same thing, at the end of the day...

“I think so,” I answered.

“WHAT? That’s crazy!” Peter, using his loudest four year old voice, pushed past Isaac and scrambled out of the van, light up sneakers going off as his shoes hit the pavement. He laughed as he ran to the edge of the driveway to peek around the house for confirmation. “A back door on the front?” The tinkle in his laugh set me smiling.

“Peter, don’t go around the house without a big kid.”

He listened and returned, eyes shining with excitement and beaming curiosity.

“Here,” I reached out. He took my hand and we stepped onto the porch together. The door mat, bristly and brown, had a simple ‘welcome home’ written across it in black plastic. I crossed it in one step, Peter in three, and together we stepped into the house that would forever remain in our memories.

Wood everything, walnut, it looked like. Wood floorboards, wood trim, wood furniture. And the furniture confirmed my every hope for this stay. Rugs, deep blue and magenta, filled the hallway and sitting room floors neatly. Shelves of books and nick-knacks adorned each wall, tastefully balanced. Instantly I started scanning for books I knew, and was not disappointed. Lord of the Rings was there on the top shelf, Narnia just below, and on the far side I found book three of the Wheel of Time. I scanned for more but my gaze was pulled away as the grandfather clock chimed the hour.

It was a great, old looking thing, ornamented in such a way that it could have been at home in the Oval Office or the castle from Beauty and the Beast. It shined like new, oiled wood a shade darker than everything around it. It was eleven o’ clock, now. My stomach confirmed with a growl.

Peter released my hand and rushed away to find Mom. Alone for a moment, I tiptoed over to the coffee table to peer at the stack of books there. I had to go around the table to see them, and as I reached a portion of floor not covered by a rug, my foot slipped faster than I could process, and with a rising sickness in my stomach I slammed into the sofa, wincing as it, too, slipped across the floorboards with a violent creak. It stopped after a few inches, and I carefully pushed myself back to my feet, gingerly grabbing the lushly padded blue arm rest to pull it back into position. My heart thudded as I saw that the foot of the sofa had somehow carved a line of distress across one floorboard. Looking around for any indication of discovery, I found myself alone still, and quickly dragged the sofa back into place. No one would know.

“Wow.”

My heart was in my throat. I spun, almost slipping again, to see Ann, my older sister, surveying the room with the same awe I had felt. Slowly I realized that she hadn’t seen me moving the couch, and I offered a smile, probably too late, but she didn’t notice.

“This is amazing,” she continued in a small voice. “I’ve never seen a house this fancy.”

“Me neither.” Though it went without saying.

“I can’t believe we’re staying here.”

“Me neither. Look, they have Narnia.”

“And Les Miserables,” she said, pointing.

“That’s not the copy we have,” I said, seeing the leather bound cover. No wonder I hadn’t recognized it.

“Thomas, Ann! Join us in the kitchen!” Mrs. Adelaine called. Carefully I stepped back onto the safety of the rug, taking one of Ann’s bags when she offered it, and together we passed through the arched hallway into a kitchen every bit as beautiful as the sitting room. Mom and Mrs. Adelaine were seated at the counter in padded seats with rotating tops. Peter was on Mom’s lap, head resting on her shoulder. He would probably be sleep soon.

Something caught my eye to my left. The kitchen was part of a larger living area which branched off into another sitting room, this one containing a huge flat screen TV. My mouth practically watered as I imaged what movies might be in the closed cabinets surrounding it. Unobtrusively bisecting the two areas, a delicate and intricately decorated staircase slanted upward, inviting me to explore further. Mrs. Adelaine was saying something.

“...and your room is upstairs. I hope it’s okay that all five of you will be sharing a room.”

“Can I check it out right now?” I blurted.

“Of course,” Mrs. Adelaine smiled wide, “Just take a left at the top of the stairs and go to the very end. Feel free to take your bags up there.”

I was already on my way, stopping at the bottom and gently tracing the exquisitely carved dragons and plants on the Newel post with one hand. In the background I heard my mom telling the story of when our family had made room in our house for a family of eight to stay with us. I’d slept at the top of a tripple bunk bed then. I couldn’t imagine anything in this house being nearly that confining.

This house really was crazy. Crazy fancy.

I forced myself to take the stairs slowly, and when I was near the top, I heard someone behind me. As I turned to see who, I glimpsed it. The library. A room designed so perfectly to appeal to me that it seemed almost supernatural. I felt like I was in a dream. I reversed, squeezing past Ann, who turned and saw what I had seen. Her eyes widened.

“I’ll put my bags upstairs and come right back down.” The excitement in her voice thrummed in harmony with my own. Ann’s footfalls pattered up the stairs as I went down the hallway-- this one parallel to the first-- which opened directly across from the stairs. I then entered a room which must have been adjacent to the sitting room, though they shared no door. The floor was one huge rug of sinfully soft white fur. Shining black bookcases lined the walls, packed with books I ached to touch. Like an ant coming upon spilled fruit juice, I couldn’t resist. The shelves were loaded with fantasy books. Row upon row of hardcovers, series long and short, dust jackets crisp and vividly colored. This was no grandparent’s book collection. It might as well have come straight from Barnes and Noble yesterday! I could hardly take it in. There was a book I was still waiting for the library to purchase-- it had only been out for a week and a half! On the lowest shelf, massive illustrated editions were fanned out, laying halfway on the rug and luring me with a song stronger than any siren’s could possibly be. I sat, picking up the top one, a fairy tale collection, and opening it to the middle. It fell on the story of Hansel and Grettle, and in wonder I found that the candy house which dominated the page was textured, raised slightly in places to reflect the bumps and roundness of the gum drops, candy canes, and more My fingers ran wildly across it, in disbelief. Who would put a library this amazing in their summer house? Did they have a matching one in their rest-of-the-year home? A better one? I struggled to picture it.

I looked up when Ann came in. Her jaw was hanging open, and her eyes shined as she took it all in. Behind her, another form came into view: Mrs. Adelaine, still with a smile on her face.

“Ah, so you found it! This is my son’s library. He stores it here since there’s not enough room in his dorm at college, for obvious reasons. He loves it.” She looked around the room for a moment before refocusing on me. “I can tell you do, too. You must have good taste. I’ve asked him, and he says you can read whatever you want as long as it stays in this room and you’re careful not to break the spines. I’ll trust you guys to be careful.” She winked at me, and in that moment she became a part of the wonder that had captured me here. She understood how I felt, or at least her son did. And she would probably let me read as much as I wanted.

I stayed in the library for a while, until I was called out to help with unloading the bags. My mind stayed in the library the whole time as we unloaded and unpacked each suitcase and backpack. Two weeks had seemed like a thrillingly long vacation. But after seeing those bookshelves, it seemed desperately short. I couldn’t possibly read all the books I wanted to in that time.

The room my siblings and I were going to share was big, with two bunk beds on either side and a trundle bed almost identical to the one Peter used at home. Ann had already staked her claim on the bottom of one side, which was fine with me. I preferred the top. Hannah came in, groggy, her blond curls erratic from her hours-long slumber in the car, and collapsed on the other bottom bunk. I guess Isaac would be across from me. Better than below, I thought.

Mrs. Adelaine came in just as we were settling in, with a Peter-laden Mom trailing behind.

“I need to get all your names and ages in order,” She said. “You’re Ann, right? You’re the oldest?” We all nodded. “Who’s next in line?”

I raised my hand.

“And you’re Thomas, correct?”

I nodded.

“Who’s after you?”

“Hannah,” Ann said just before I could answer the question which I thought had been obviously directed at me. “She’s eleven.”

“Oh, we’re getting specific now. I like it. And let me guess, you’re next?” She pointed at Isaac. “What’s your name? Abraham? Jacob?”

“Isaac.” He said, confused, and I could tell the joke had gone completely over his head.

“Of course, that’s it! I knew that.” Mrs. Adelaine might have read me perfectly, but she clearly wasn’t perfect at reading people. Isaac hated being teased or strung along. He was sensitive. He hated being left out of anything. She would probably realize soon.

“And I’ve met Peter. What a delightful boy.” As she said it, she stepped to the side to let Mom past. We all watched her lay him down on the trundle bed and tuck a blanket over him. Mrs. Adelaine looked on with a gentle smile, and I felt a wave of gratitude to this stranger for giving us such an exciting experience.

It had been stressful, watching Mom and Dad fight about the trip. Dad needed to go, he said, but he couldn’t bring the whole family. But mom wouldn’t let him go alone. We had no family in town, and Mom refused to impose upon any of her friends-- But they couldn’t afford a hotel. The problems had gone on and on and on, each one tightening like a string around my chest until I found it hard to sleep at night. When Mom and Dad called them into the family room one morning with real-- truly real-- smiles, a weight was lifted off me and I breathed in for what felt like the first time in weeks. That’s when they had told us about Mrs. Adelaine, and her summer house. And since that morning, everything had gone better and better. Everything had slipped back into rightness, and now we were about to have the best two weeks of our lives. And when Mom and Dad came back from their part of the trip in the city, hopefully all the tension between them and us would be not just behind us, but forgotten.

“The bathroom is at the very end of the hall.” Mrs. Adelaine told us. “Let me know if you finish a roll of toilet paper so I can replace it. Did you all bring toothbrushes?”

We all nodded.

“Good. I value cleanliness. I want you all to have a great time here, but a part of that is remembering that the deal your parents and I made is that you get to stay here and help me get some work done around the place. I know, it probably doesn’t look like it needs work, but there’s plenty to do, and I have a feeling you’re just the crew to do it.” She beamed at the end, folding her hands in front of her. I remember thinking then that she was so… Normal looking. Blue jeans, a T-shirt, worn down sneakers not unlike Mom’s. I wondered why she didn’t dress nicer, if she had so much money.

“I’m so excited to get to know you all. Now I’m going to let you all say goodnight to your mother before she goes away.”

As she said those words I suddenly wanted Mom to stay. All the excitement shrunk a little at the thought of saying goodbye. But I knew this was going to happen. I was ready. Ann and I had agreed, she would be responsible for Peter and I would help Hannah and Isaac with whatever they needed. And I, I reminded myself, would have plenty to read in my free time. It would all go perfectly.

Mom hugged us all, gave Peter a kiss, and repeated the plan. It was only two weeks, and please be obedient to Mrs. Adelaine, she was being so generous helping us out. “Be helpful, be honest, and I know you’ll make your father and I proud. I’m already proud of you.”

Be honest. I thought of the sofa scratch and buried my feeling of guilt. That wasn’t my fault. And no one would know. It wasn’t even a big deal.

“Goodnight Mom,” I said quietly. I could smell the lavender scent in her wavy brown hair as she bent down to kiss my cheek. Then she walked to the door, blew kisses at each of us, and then disappeared down the stairs. A minute later, I heard the van rumble to life, and then the sound trailed off into the night, leaving us alone.

Ann was starting to snore when I realized that I needed to use the bathroom. I climbed down from my bed and ghosted down the hall barefoot, closing the door as quietly as I could, blinking as the light briefly blinded me. But before I sat down I noticed the empty toiled paper hook. Checking each drawer and cupboard, I found no spare roll.

Would Mrs. Adelaine still be awake?

There must be a downstairs bathroom. Maybe that door I had passed in the hallway on the way to the kitchen? I would find it. I needed to be quick.

The stairs didn’t creak. All was silent. In the dark the kitchen and TV room area seemed stretched even longer, and the staircase an obstruction to my quest. The room was empty.

“Thomas.”

I nearly wet myself as I jumped, unable to keep a yelp in. My heartbeat thudded in my ears as my eyes searched in slow-motion for the speaker.

Then I saw her. In the hallway leading to the library. In the pool of shadow stood Mrs. Adelaine, and she was smiling. But as he watched her face, the smile fell away.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I, uh—” My voice caught ragged in my throat. “I need toilet paper. There’s none upstairs.” I don’t know how I squeezed the words out. My whole body was seized with terror.

“Oh, how silly of me to forget that. Here, take this.” She reached out a hand and in the dim moonlight I saw a roll of toilet paper, several of the squares dangling past her hand, pale in the darkness.

I took it, fled up the stairs, checking twice that the bathroom door was locked. I did my business, and only as I walked back down the hall to the bedroom did it occur to me that she had been waiting there. Waiting with a toilet paper roll.

I locked the bedroom door that night. And eventually I slept.

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