The next morning Maggie tried to regain the excitement she’d begun this journey with, but it had escaped her. She was relieved to pull away from the small dilapidated town but the implications of what might lay ahead of her were heavy on her mind.
All of those implications swirled in her mind as her impulsive road trip came to its end. Savannah, Georgia had been beautiful and promising, but it was several hours behind her now. She was surrounded by nothing but dense forest and dirt roads. Somehow she’d managed to come upon Devereaux Lane without crossing through any sort of town. Surely this house didn’t exist entirely in the middle of nowhere, did it?
Maggie’s breathing became shallow and her heart began to race. She eased her foot off the gas and Old Betty slowed to a crawl. She was suddenly, absolutely, and undeniably terrified about what she would find at the end of this dirt road. She broke into a cold sweat and her hands trembled on the wheel. She couldn’t breathe. It felt as if a vice was squeezing down on her chest. There was no air in the car. A sharp pain shot through her chest and she hit the brakes, coming to a stop in the middle of the road as she doubled over hugging her ribs. No one else was on the road to be disturbed.
She closed her eyes tight and tried to regulate her breathing. Please not again! she thought. Images from the last time flitted through her mind; a broken pencil in her clenched hand, a sea of faces swimming around her. She tried to push the awful memories from her mind. She concentrated on each breath. In. Out. She imagined Fred sitting next to her pumping good clean oxygen into the car. You. Are. Breathing. she reminded herself.
Gradually the pain eased and she was able to open her eyes again. Seeing nothing but open forest was somehow a relief, nothing like the oppressive lecture halls that she’d left behind. She was free. That single thought was enough to pull her out of her downward spiral and gave her the strength she needed to ease her foot back on the gas and finally discover what waited for her at the end of Devereaux Lane.
2
Maggie couldn’t believe her eyes as she turned into the driveway. It felt as if she was driving through a time warp as she crossed through the wrought iron gate. Hundred-year-old oak trees loomed overhead creating a canopy that shaded the drive. Wisteria vines hung from the trees dripping their long, purple flowers down through the dappled sunlight. The light filtering down through the trees was tinted green and gold. The colors were so vibrant they didn’t seem real. Maggie could see a bright glow up ahead and knew she was reaching the end of the tree tunnel.
As she emerged from the shaded arch she was momentarily blinded by the bright summer day. As her eyes adjusted she could see the expanse of a large manicured lawn spread out in front of her. The pebbled driveway split in two, creating a round circle drive with a bubbling fountain as its centerpiece. Just beyond that was the grandest Southern plantation home she’d ever seen, complete with soaring columned porches, tall French windows stacked in even rows along both floors, and a broad hipped roof boasting three tall chimney stacks. An elegant rounded portico was flanked on either side by long galleries that ran the length of the first floor.
The sun gleamed off the white house so brightly it almost appeared to be glowing. The dark green wooden shutters framing the windows stood out in stark contrast against the white. The lawn was a vibrant green and the azaleas that framed the broad porch portrayed every color of the rainbow. Maggie’s senses were overwhelmed by the brightness of everything; the scene before her just didn’t seem real. She felt like Alice falling through the rabbit hole and somehow landing right in the middle of Gone with the Wind. She imagined this is how Dorothy felt arriving in Oz.
She pulled Old Betty around to park just at the base of the wide stairs leading up to the grand entrance. She sat a moment in her car staring at this magnificent house and trying to wrap her head around the fact that for the next three months she’d be calling this place home.
Finally she opened the door and stepped out of her car. A wave of heat slammed into her so hard it nearly knocked her back. It felt as if she’d opened an oven door and jumped inside. The hot air was so thick with humidity she wondered if it was possible to drown from simply breathing. Seriously, how did people breathe in the South? A sheen of sweat had already broken out across her forehead and she hadn’t even taken a step. She briefly contemplated climbing back into the comforting air conditioning of her car.