Quarantine Pet - His Pet

I met Jack downstairs with my bags. He was driving a vintage convertible Porsha, and he was looking suave as hell. He hopped out to help me with my bags.

“We need to get out of the city,” he commented. “I’ve heard rumors that they may close the bridges.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Apparently, there’s already been some cases of the virus. They don’t want people spreading it around,” he informed me. “That’s the last thing we need to get trapped in Manhattan when the city goes to hell.”

I looked back at Isabella up in the window. Should I ask if she could come? Nah, she’d probably be fine. Her mother lived in Jersey, and she’d likely crash at her place for a few days. I texted her encouraging her to do so as I left with Jack.

The ride to the Hamptons took forever. Everyone was trying to get out of the city. Fortunately, the unseasonably hot March weather made for a beautiful drive. Just before we got onto the highway, Jack put the top back up, so I wouldn’t be completely windswept, and so we could have a conversation without yelling back and forth.

“You’ve been to the Hamptons?” he asked.

“Once or twice with my folks,” I said. “Mainly just to shop and look around. Never actually stayed out here. A bit too rich for my blood.”

“Ah, it’s not so bad,” Jack assured me. “There are actually some pretty affordable places if you look.”

“Is your place affordable?”

“Not really. I mean, I can. Obviously, but…”

We pulled up to the front of his house, and it was just gorgeous. It was a white, Cape Cod with a meticulous landscaped front lawn. There were shrub sculptures and little pathways. You could’ve placed it in Ireland, the grass was so green.

“Impressive,” I commented.

“Yeah, it looks nice,” agreed Jack. “I think my landscape guy must’ve just come out. The last guy I hired, what a disaster! His guys didn’t want to use the bathroom inside, even though I said they could, well, you can pretty much imagine the rest.”

“Ewww.”

“Right? I mean, some of my neighbors, rich snobby types, they won’t let people in to use the bathroom, but I didn’t care!” laughed Jack. “Go inside. Don’t pee on the shrubs for God’s sake!”

“You got any famous neighbors?”

“Hmm. I saw Chris Cuomo’s wife in the Walgreens, but I’m not sure where they live,” he admitted. “Quite frankly, can’t watch CNN anymore.”

The interior of the house was just as perfect — spotless, well designed, and full of old American furniture, real classic stuff from the 50’s and all fine woods. It was like he owned his own little bed and breakfast, and the staff really maintained it.

“Gosh, this looks like you live here,” I commented. “I mean, it’s super clean, and it feels like someone is always here.”

“Yeah, I have a great cleaning service,” Jack admitted. “They’re just awesome.”

The hallway had pictures of what I assumed were Jack’s family. It looked as if they had a lot of fun times in the house. This led to the bedrooms, and he guided me into a guest room that looked as if it had been set up brand new just for me.

There was a four-poster bed with a giant lace doily over the deep green comforter. The dressers looked to be handmade, again late ’50s, and meticulously kept. There were cute little knick-knacks of figurines representing people doing things on vacation: fishing, swimming, hiking, etc. There was an old-style writing desk and a wooden chair that matched. The throw rug had patterns of flowers, and the air of the room smelled fresh. It was almost like stepping back in time, but it felt like the room was new.

“I’m so impressed at the way everything in this house is so well kept!” I commented. “It’s like, nothing here ever ages or something.”

“Well, you know, it’s a vacation home. Been in my family for a while, and we were only here seasonally,” Jack explained as we lounged on the crisp, white couches.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why’d you bring me out here, Jack? You could’ve set up something over the Internet like everyone else,” I pressed. “Why drag me out here? If you wanted to make a move, why not just make it?”

“I promised your cousins I wouldn’t,” he admitted. “But you’re easy on the eyes. Besides, it gets lonely out here by myself.” He grinned at me. “I wanted some company, and you seem like good company.”

“Fair enough. I appreciate an honest answer.”

“I appreciate your directness,” he complimented. “It’s probably what got you to associate so fast. And why I would ask you over Sanjay and Pete. Pete’s kind of a bootlicker and Sanjay, nice guy, but a little too nice for his own good, if you know what I mean.”

“I guess.”

“Let’s keep this conversation just between us, huh?”