Whereas she was a blonde, 5’8” size zero, my chestnut hair and full figured frame (“if only you’d work on your diet, you could lose those curves,” my mom always said when she saw me in my underwear) meant most people never considered us to be mother and daughter.
“Sweetie, I’m feeling a little bit nauseous, I think I’m going to try having a nap. I’ve already taken an Ambien. Can you wake me up when they start dinner service?”
“Sure, mom. No problem,” I told her with a small smile. Of course she felt like she was going to puke, but still wanted dinner. That sounded legit.
I took out a book I’d bought at the airport: the latest James Patterson thriller. Hey, just because I loved the classics didn’t mean I wasn’t a guilty pleasure here and there. And James Patterson was definitely my vice.
Throwing myself into the world of the Women’s Murder Club in San Francisco, I let my worries about the move fall to the back of my mind as I was whisked to another continent.
Chapter Two
When we finally landed at Heathrow, six hours later, a man was ready and waiting for us with a placard saying “Mary and Julianne Reeves”. I was borderline exhausted. The plane trip had lasted forever, and now it was early in the morning in England, but late at night back home in New York. I was ready for bed, and followed in a daze, my two suitcases on a trolley carried by the driver, as he led us out of the terminal and into the waiting Mercedes sedan.
As soon as I sat down in the plush leather seat of the car, I fell asleep. I have no memory of us even driving outside the airport, and only woke up an hour later when my mother shook me awake.
“Julianne, we’re almost there,” she whispered. I looked out the window to see the view of the perfect quintessential English town. Wendover was home of the Alcott family estate, which I was told was remarkable. Nerves started to fill my stomach. This was really happening. I was going to meet the man my mother was going to marry, I was going to live in his home here in England. This was definitely going to be something new, and I hoped I liked it. I didn’t want my life to be like on Downton Abbey, as much as I loved the show.
We continued driving outside of town, and I had to admit, the rolling hills of the countryside were gorgeous. I saw a few horseback riders and even wondered if maybe that was something I would be able to do. At least we weren’t too far from London, either. I’d looked up the train timetable, and it would only take an hour to get into the city.
The sedan finally turned into a long driveway, and my jaw dropped to the floor.
Towering before us was the home I was going to live in. Looking exactly like something out of Pride and Prejudice, the Alcott estate building was a long, stone rectangular building, with huge windows, ivy crawling up the grey stonework and mahogany accents in certain areas that gave the house a bit of a modern touch. The driveway circled around to the front of the house, like you see at luxury hotels, with a fancy fountain featuring three dancing dolphins spitting water out as a feature in the middle of the driveway.
The perfectly manicured lawn seemed to stretch out for miles, and I think for the first time I really realized just how much money my mother’s fiancée really had.
As if by magic, a woman suddenly came bustling out from the mahogany front door that was at least twice as high as she was.
I stepped out of the car in shock, while my mother immediately turned into the charming woman who snagged the guy who owned this place as her future husband.
“Hello, you must be Ms. Reeves,” the woman announced as our driver wordlessly went to the back of the car to fetch our suitcases. “I’m Anita, the head of the household.”
The head of the household? Seriously? What is this, the 1800s? I asked myself as I looked at the plump woman’s cherubically happy face and decided she was probably quite nice, and almost certainly had children of her own.
“Thank you Anita, I’m Mary and this is my daughter, Julianne.”
“Ms. Julianne, welcome,” Anita greeted me.
“Just Julianne is fine, please,” I replied with a smile, and my mother stared daggers at me. Apparently I’d already committed some kind of social faux-pas in her head.
“Well ladies, if you’ll just follow me, Michael will take your suitcases to your rooms, and I’ll give you a tour of the premises.”
Glancing at Michael and wondering if I shouldn’t offer to help with the suitcases, I quickly realized that Anita and my mother had already gone into the house, and I hurried in after them.