“What about you?”
“I’ve been known to frequent a nursery now and then. Come inside and I’ll show you the rest of it. You have to tell me what’s old and what’s new.”
“Ah! A challenge,” she said as she followed him in a side door. They went into a large hallway, with a tile floor and an oak staircase at the end.
“Old,” she said, then nodded toward the door to the right, silently asking if she could open it. It was a large family room, with bookcases and a big TV, very cozy. It took only a glance to see that the room was newer than the hall and she told him so.
Across the hall she opened a door to a long room that was wide on the right but narrowed at the other end where she saw the kitchen with its dark cherry cabinets. “This is old and I don’t think it’s always been one room. So how’d I do?”
“Perfect,” he said. “My mother had the walls torn out on this side. Right after Addy was born, Mom told my dad that she wasn’t going to be stuck alone in the kitchen, and that if he wanted dinner on the table he damn well better let her see what her kids were up to. Two days later, the walls were down.”
“I think I like your mother.”
“Me too,” Tris said. “Can I make you a drink?”
“Can’t. I’m driving, but if you have it, I’ll take a tonic water with lots of lime juice.”
“Comi
ng up.”
“Mind if I . . . ?” She nodded toward the door to the conservatory, and he waved his hand for her to go. It was a beautiful room that looked like a Victorian garden. And as she’d gathered from his self-effacing tone, Tris was also good at gardening. Plants—mostly orchids—were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, in floor pots, all in a lush display that made her want to sit in one of the wicker chairs and read. What she liked best was that Tris didn’t confine the larger plants but had them growing out of the ground that surrounded the beautiful hand-painted tile on the floor.
Tris handed her an icy drink. “This is the only room that no one has touched. My dad said it was the favorite room of my great, great, etc. grandmother who built the house, and that she spent most of her time here.” He leaned forward to remove a dead leaf from an oncidium orchid. “She was one of the women who had a baby with no husband.”
“In normal circumstances, that wouldn’t be interesting, but since it’s been remembered for so long, I think there’s a story there. I’d love to hear more about her. What was her name?”
“Louisa. I don’t know much about her, but Joce said she called my grandfather and talked to him about our family. He said that Louisa Aldredge’s child’s birth certificate said her brother and his wife were the parents.”
“I’m sure that’s what was considered the proper thing to do at that time,” Gemma said. “So . . . Sometime in the 1830s or 40s Louisa Aldredge had a baby out of wedlock, had to give him up, so she built herself a house in the wilderness, and lived here all alone with her plants.”
“You are as romantic as Sara,” Tris said, grinning. “I’ll have you know that when my dad remodeled these rooms, he found surgical instruments dating back to about the time the house was built. And there were also some toy trucks from about that time. My guess is that Louisa built so far out of town so her clients wouldn’t be seen going to a female doctor. And I think she lived here with her son.”
“Sounds like you know quite a bit about her.”
Tris shrugged. “Aldredges, male and female, tend toward medicine, so it wasn’t a big leap to figure it out. Now, to more important matters.”
“The Heartwishes Stone?” Gemma said quickly.
“I was thinking more in the lines of food. I have a housekeeper who comes in twice a week and brings me things she cooks at home. She likes to experiment, so I never know what’s waiting for me.”
“Let me guess,” Gemma said. “She’s young and pretty and unmarried.”
“Have you met her?” Tris asked, his eyebrows raised, and they laughed together.
She couldn’t help her amusement at the way Tris pretended not to know that women fell over themselves over him. She’d seen grown women halt in the street when they saw him, and Tris would smile at them in a shy way, as though he had no idea why they were gaping at him.
He opened the refrigerator door and began pulling out bowls that were covered with plastic wrap, and handed them to her. There were several vegetable salads, cold meat and chicken, and little cubes of cheese.
As they unwrapped the food and put the bowls on the table, they talked. Neither of them suggested heating the meal. Gemma wanted to ask Tris about the Heartwishes Stone, but she also wanted to let him tell her in his own time.
“So what’s with you and Dr. Burgess that you don’t trust him?” Tris asked as soon as they sat down at the table.
“Nothing I can put my finger on, but I think maybe he might want to find out what he can about my research so he can publish it.”
“You think the Fraziers’ family history will entice some editor to put it in print?”
“You know very well what he’s after,” Gemma said.