"I do like eating in this dining room, however. It makes me feel. . . special, like I'm eating in the White House or a castle. You'll feel the same way. You'll see," she said. "I want you to enjoy the good life, Celeste, just like me. I really do."
There were two settings on one side, one across from them, and one at the head of the table. The bay windows looked out on the gardens and fountains, just as Ami had described when we first approached the house. Whoever sat at the setting across from the two would have her back to the windows. I assumed that would be my setting.
"The floors look brand-new," I commented, noticing how they shone. "Were they just recently put in?"
"Oh, no. Once a month we bring a team of floor cleaners with machines in to do our wood floors," Ami continued. "It would be too much for Mrs. Cukor, especially at her age."
"How old is she?"
"We don't know for certain, but we estimate she's in her mid- to late seventies, even though she doesn't look it. You can't believe what she has on documents, but we know she's at least that old."
"Why doesn't she retire?" I asked as we continued down the hallway.
"To what? She has no family in America, and she won't return to Hungary. She hates the thought of a rest home. She calls them God's Waiting Rooms, no thank you. She always says she'll retire in the grave. And then she adds, maybe. Personally, I think she'll live forever. The truth is, I'm a little afraid of her at times. I think she was brought up by gypsies, and that's why she has no family. She's very superstitious, always muttering some chant or another, throwing salt over her shoulder, crossing herself. One of the funniest things she does is stop walking, back up, and then start again with a different foot. Ignore her as best you can," Ami advised. Then she leaned toward me to whisper, "I do believe both Wade and his father are a little afraid of her themselves."
I grimaced skeptically. How could grown men as wealthy and as influential as Ami had described them be afraid of an elderly maid?
"Our living room, or great room, I should call it," Ann declared, looking into a truly grand, ornate room with red satin drapes edged in gold, oversized sofas facing each other, and an oval ivory table in the center. There were lamps everywhere, a dark wood grand piano on the right, and walls of bookshelves stacked with leather-bound volumes. I saw a glass case filled with what looked to be expensive ceramic figurines. Ami saw what I was looking at.
"Those are Lladros," she said. "They, come from Spain, and there are about twenty thousand dollars wor
th of them in there. Wade's mother used to collect them. That is about the only expensive thing Wade will buy. It's a way of keeping her memory alive or something. I'm not particularly fond of them. I'd rather spend money on clothes. He buys one and then pretends he's doing it for me, and for his sake, I let him pretend. That's what a marriage is, you know, little compromises, sacrifices. The trick is to make sure he does most of them," she added with a laugh. "Anyway, there's the living room."
As she had described, area rugs were scattered across the floor; they were all very expensive Persians, she said.
"You don't play piano, do you, by any chance?"
"No, but I've always wanted to," I said. The memory of piano music in the farmhouse was always strong.
"Well, I'll see about getting you lessons," she said.
"Really?"
"Yes, of course. It would be nice to really use this room instead of keeping it like some sort of shrine. Wade rarely spends any time in here, but he inspects it regularly, and God forbid there be a spot of dust, or something out of place. It's all the way his mother kept it. Even those old magazines in the magazine rack are the magazines she was reading at the time of her death. Maybe he thinks if he keeps it this way, she'll return."
"Maybe she will. Maybe she has," I said softly. Contact with the dead wasn't something I could just brush off completely.
Ami laughed.
"Talk like that will get you in the good graces of Mrs. Cukor. She takes her responsibility to keep the room spotless and perfect very seriously."
"It's a beautiful room," I said.
A second set of smaller sofas faced an enormous fieldstone fireplace, above which was a landscape with a bubbling brook. The colors were so vibrant, the water looked as if it would literally run over the frame. It brought back an image of the brook that ran near the farm.
"Yes, it is. The whole house is. Look at the elaborate molding work," she pointed out. "I'm not kidding. A house like this one just isn't built anymore. No one takes all that care about construction. It was built when houses were still works of craftsmanship. At least, that's what Basil is always saying. Just ask him one question about the house, and he'll go on and on for hours. That's a warning," she added with a wink.
I recalled the molding in the farmhouse. That house was as intricate as this, I thought, just not as big or as ornate.
"Every piece of furniture in here is a work of art, imported from Spain or Italy or France, even that backgammon game that no one plays. Do you?" I shook my head.
"I don't know anything about it."
"None of us do. Of course, Wade's mother did. The board is also exactly the way she left it right before she died. Wade's father bought all the art you see hanging. Except for the Lladros, Wade isn't much of a collector of fine things. I'll give Basil credit for that, but he doesn't buy things for their beauty as much as for their financial value. Everything has al-ways been an investment first to him. He's very open about it, too. He isn't ashamed about his pursuit of wealth. I think he even thought of his children as an
investment. Wade's been worth it to him, but Bethany--that's a bust, as far as Basil is concerned. He made her a very expensive wedding, of course, but all he's gotten back in return is disdain from both Bethany and her husband. He isn't attached at all to his grandchildren. He doesn't remember their birthdays. Mrs. Cukor reminds him, or he wouldn't get them a gift. When is your birthday?" she asked. "I forgot."
I told her, and she nodded.