The House Of Secrets. Elizabeth Blackwell

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СКАЧАТЬ to marry her. Their house must have been a refuge from a disapproving world. What would it be like to be so in love that you were willing to defy your family and break all the rules?

      Alissa had always had an active imagination. It was the key to her professional success. Being an interior designer took more than sorting through paint chips and fabric samples; it took a talent for envisioning a space as it should be, not as it was, then convincing clients that she could make it happen. As soon as she was old enough to hold a paintbrush, Alissa had begged her mother to let her paint her room. By her teens, she was sewing slip-covers for the living-room furniture and making her own bedspreads. Bringing the Brewster house back to life would be the ultimate test of her talent.

      Brad eyed her from the driver’s seat. “That place looked cool from the outside, but c’mon—it was a dump.”

      Alissa felt her shoulders tense. “It just needs some work,” she said.

      “And you think you can save it?” Brad asked. “You’d go bankrupt.”

      “There’s the money from my mom…” Alissa began, then stopped. The money her mother had left when she died of cancer a year ago, which she’d told Alissa to use to “follow her dreams.” Alissa had assumed she’d put it toward a wedding, a fairy-tale affair so magical it might make up for her mother’s absence. Clearly that wasn’t likely now, given the state of her relationship with Brad. Had her mother hoped for something else?

      “Besides,” Alissa continued after a moment, “wanna guess the asking price?”

      Brad perked up with surprise when she told him.

      “Really?”

      “Yeah,” Alissa said. “Plus, Elaine more or less said they’d be willing to drop the price even lower for the right person. If I sold my condo and took out a loan, I might have enough for renovations. I could get fabric and furniture from some of the firm’s suppliers at cost, so I’d be saving a ton of money there….”

      “Hang on. You took one tour of the house and now you’re selling your condo?” Brad asked. He didn’t bother to hide his disbelief.

      “I said if,” Alissa protested. But in her heart, she had already let go of the downtown loft, with its exposed-brick walls and stainless-steel kitchen. She saw herself at the Brewster house, stripping the paint off the elaborate crown molding in that beautiful parlor, or washing the streaked windows so the sun could shine in once again.

      “The commute would be awful,” Brad said.

      “I know.” Already, Alissa dreaded going to the office each day; a long drive would only give her more time to be miserable. Maureen, her boss, hovered over her as if she were still an intern, even though she had been a licensed designer for nearly three years. Now that clients had started specifically requesting Alissa, Maureen had become even more competitive and distrusting. If Alissa moved out to Oak Hill, maybe she could arrange to go to the office only part-time.

      Or better yet, not go in at all. For years, Alissa had dreamed of running her own business. Finally working the way she wanted to, without the distraction of a temperamental boss. It was impossible, of course—there was no way she could buy a massive house and quit her job. It would be crazy. And yet, Alissa felt a stirring of excitement at the prospect. The Brewster house, which had captured her imagination despite its neglected condition, now seemed like the key to a whole new life.

      Brad laughed sarcastically. “I can’t believe you were seriously thinking of buying that place,” he said.

      I still am, Alissa thought. But she remained silent.

      They drove on, the sound of the humming wheels mesmerizing them until they drifted into their own thoughts. In the end, it was Brad who spoke first. His ability to cut to the truth was one quality she still admired about him.

      “So this is it, huh?” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

      Alissa started to ask him what he meant, then stopped herself. What was the point? Their passion for each other—once so exciting, so all-consuming—had fizzled in the face of their ultimate incompatibility. Brad was a good-time guy who wanted to keep the party going even as he passed thirty; Alissa was happiest cocooning at home and getting to bed before midnight. Brad liked hot summer nights and tropical beaches; Alissa preferred cool fall afternoons and vacations at mountaintop lodges. It was no one’s fault. They should be able to say goodbye without regret. Still, Alissa didn’t want to make the final decision.

      “Are you calling it quits?” Alissa asked.

      “Don’t put this on me,” said Brad, still gazing at the darkening road. “You’ve wanted out for a long time. Why else do you think you got so worked up about that old house?”

      As their conversation continued, reaching its unavoidable conclusion, they both remained calm and detached. Later, thinking back on that drive, Alissa was amazed by how effortlessly her future with Brad slipped away.

      “I’ll come by after work tomorrow to pick up my things,” Brad said as he pulled the car up in front of her building. “If that’s all right with you.”

      “Sure,” said Alissa. There was nothing left to say, so she got out, closed the door and walked inside without looking back.

      Once inside, she walked around the condo, looking for evidence of Brad that would have to be cleared out. Considering how long they had dated, he hadn’t left much of a mark. A few framed pictures on a bookshelf. His college sweatshirt lying over the arm of the couch. The extra toothbrush she had bought for him, lying next to hers on the side of her bathroom sink. Erasing him from her life would only take a few minutes. It wasn’t supposed to be so easy, was it?

      Logically, Alissa knew they had done the right thing. But she couldn’t relax, couldn’t concentrate. The stark, gleaming metals and thickly varnished wood surrounding her felt cold and unwelcoming. She had been inspired by contemporary design when she’d decorated her home, determined to make it feel clean and modern. But after touring the Brewster house, the space felt soulless.

      Alissa flashed back to the day she started at design school. How she had rushed home that night to call her parents, giddily describing the projects she would be working on that semester. She had tried to recapture that joy many times in the following years, etching that love of her work into her brain so it wouldn’t be forgotten among the day-to-day frustrations of Maureen’s disapproval. But now, thinking about the Brewster house, Alissa felt a flash of excitement that echoed that first day of class. She let the feeling wash over her. I’ll buy it, she decided, and I will be happy there.

      CHAPTER TWO

      1904

      EVELYN O’KEEFE’S wedding day passed in a blur. For years afterward, only one image remained clear: the sight of Will Brewster pulling up in front of the church in his lurching, dirt-spattered motorcar, exuding such vitality that everyone else seemed to fade into the background. Evelyn had never believed in love at first sight. The idea of losing her heart to someone she had just met—on her wedding day, no less—had always struck her as absurd. But from the moment Will arrived, she couldn’t stop watching him. He stepped easily from the car and greeted the guests mingling around him. His smile dazzled her as he pulled up his goggles and caught her eye. The attraction was instantaneous.

      Until that point, the wedding and reception had progressed as smoothly as any other social event held at the СКАЧАТЬ