We went back out of the parlor to the front hall where Tom showed them a walk-in closet and a bathroom. Next was the music room, the library with its own screened-in porch, and a small closet under the front stairs. Then we went to the dining room. It was attached to a sunroom, which led out to a large wraparound back porch. We took the porch around to the kitchen and came back inside.
“Oh my goodness,” said Priscilla. “They’ve never updated a thing, have they?” She began opening the squeaky, nearly nonfunctional drawers in the butler’s pantry. I was embarrassed at the mouse droppings I saw inside. She quickly closed the drawer and pretended she hadn’t noticed.
“What’s down there?” Barnaby asked, pointing to a small hallway.
“A little room. Maybe it was for the cook to sleep in? Or maybe it was another pantry,” said Tom. “We’ll probably just use it for storage or something.”
Barnaby stuck his head in. “This was a bedroom for the cook,” he decided with firm conviction. “Mind if we go upstairs?”
“Sure,” said Tom, making his way up the back staircase. Barnaby and Priscilla followed, but I had the strong, sudden inclination to stay behind. It was as if an invisible wall had suddenly come down, separating me from them. I felt cemented in place.
“Are you coming?” Priscilla asked me, as she began to round the tight corner of the servants’ stairs and glanced back to find me still hesitating in the doorway below.
“In a second,” I said. “I’m just taking it all in. I still can’t believe I live here.”
“More wallpaper, even up here in the servants’ area,” Barnaby observed loudly, having reached the landing at the top of the stairs.
“I really don’t mind it,” I called after them, determinedly cheerful, just as loudly. Then I pushed through whatever barrier I’d imagined had been holding me back, and joined them.
Up here the hallway was a green, velvet leaf and floral print that I had thought was breathtaking, but now found myself reevaluating with an irritating sliver of doubt. The paper was in perfect condition even though it was probably over a hundred years old.
“You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you,” Barnaby said, attempting to pick at a seam.
Tom ignored him. “We’ve got two little bedrooms over here,” he said, flicking on the lights and allowing our guests a moment to look around.
“Tom’s going to turn one of them into a laundry room for me,” I interjected.
“And,” he continued, without commenting on that, “they share a bathroom. I guess you can see, this area is kind of on its own, but you can get to the main hallway through this door.” We all followed after him. Back here, it was as narrow as it had been in the servants’ hallway and we were all uncomfortably close together. I could smell Priscilla’s faint scent of lavender and banana breath. Tom continued on, picking up steam, enjoying his role as tour guide: “There’s this bedroom back here, and three larger bedrooms in the front of the house. That one there has a little room off it. A nursery or an office, I guess.”
This was the room that, once we got settled in, would be ours. I’d already decided it was the perfect master bedroom. It had a beautiful fireplace in it and it was closest to the bathroom. But the main reason I loved it was because of that sweet little nursery. I didn’t interject again though. I had no desire to share this dreamy tidbit with the McGhees.
We all took a look at it and then found ourselves in the large open hall by the top of the main stairs. For a moment, standing there by the railing, looking down at the staircase and hall below, we were all quiet. Reverent, it seemed.
I can still recall this night perfectly. The humid, trippy feel of it. My first impressions of the McGhees. How foreign the house was to me. Everything I was looking forward to learning to love about it. The brittle newsprint that lined the pantry drawers. The dim, flickery lights. It’s musty old smell.
/> Back then, I couldn’t articulate what the house meant to me. It was too big, too abstract. All I could say, in those early days, were chirpy expressions like, “I’m so excited! I love it!” I was so naïve. Sure, if pressed to elaborate, I could have said it meant hope for our future, the potential of creating a legacy, and other beautiful expressions. But what I really thought it was, back when my heart was so big it overflowed with gratitude, was something holier. I saw it as my eternal love. Truer, deeper, bigger, grander than a spouse. I saw it as the ultimate being with the deepest, sweetest secrets. I couldn’t wait to explore its every nook and cranny. I saw myself as the parasite that would infiltrate these secrets and reside within this magnificent host, drawing life and worth and meaning from it. We’d all be its happy parasites, Tom and me and the children we’d bring into it. I was ready to be owned by this beautiful, beautiful mansion. I was ready to put my trust in it, like a lover, and belong to it.
“Over here,” said Tom, breaking the spell, “is another bathroom. There are three in all. Not bad for an old house. And right here is another room. It’s a bit of an attic, I guess. It’s not insulated very well, so we’ll probably just use it for more storage.”
“This could be your media room, once you get some insulation put in,” Barnaby said, nodding knowingly.
“Maybe when all the other projects are done,” said Tom, closing the room back up. Then we all stood by the railing again, looking down to the front hallway below.
“Beautiful,” said Priscilla.
“So, there you have it,” said Tom. He clinked his empty beer bottle against the railing. “Have you seen enough?”
“But wait. Isn’t there a third floor?” asked Barnaby. He frowned, a ridiculously baffled expression taking over his face.
“There’s an attic, but it’s nothing remarkable,” I said, just as the grandfather clock that had come with the house began chiming. We waited it out, all twelve chimes.
When it finished, Tom said, “Yeah. We’re going to have to do something about that clock. That’s going to wake us up all night long.”
“If you hadn’t wound it, today, I don’t think it would chime,” I told him.
“Where was it? I missed it on our tour,” said Priscilla.
“It’s in the library,” I said. “It came with the house. Same for the armoire in the bedroom off the parlor. I guess they left the two things that were too big and heavy to move.”