Ben stooped to peer into the fireplace’s cold hearth, then ran a finger along the blackened stone. “A fire roaring on a winter’s day. You’re wearing thick socks, your feet up on an overstuffed ottoman. Little glass of port on the side table. Reading a book you’ve been meaning to read for a while, and wishing you hadn’t waited so long. Can you see it?”
Ted nodded. “Music playing—fun but reflective. Something with the feel of a single but loose enough to be background noise at the right volume.”
“Can you see it?” Ben repeated.
“I see it,” Ted said, smiling at Ben.
They’d played the game in ten thousand variations when they were young. After school and waiting for their mother to go to work, they’d distract each other with the places they’d rather be. Their hands would be under their heads as they lay on their twin beds in the small room they shared. Once she was gone, the house would be theirs again, but until then they had any island or castle they could conjure. One of them would come up with a place of peace or fun or riches or just a place of their own, and the other would add to it until they could see it and almost believe they were there.
A version of the same game could be said to have led Ben and Caroline to the Crofts in the first place. A fresh start in a new home. A place where Charlie can be himself and be safe. A place where the money we’ve saved can be stretched to last. A place where Caroline can heal herself with busyness and reap the satisfaction of work completed with her own two hands. Where Ben can spend his energy on his family and his books and not on the futile task of pretending that everything is okay. Can you see it?
“Bub won’t need the imaginations we had, will he?” Ted asked.
“I hope not.” Ben smelled the baby’s hair and savored the feel of it against his cheeks.
They briefly looked into the other rooms on the first floor, with Ben telling Ted what each would ultimately become. A large room with a set of French doors that opened onto the veranda would become the dining room, and a smaller room down the hall could become the professional kitchen. Ben envisioned one room for billiards tables and another as a card room.
Though the renovations to the second floor were closer to being completed, they breezed through the guest rooms and made right for the section of the house that they occupied. They stopped in front of the room Ben thought of as the Claret Room.
“Figured we’d put you in here,” Ben said. It was one of the smaller rooms on the second floor, but it had a fireplace and enough room to comfortably place a king-size bed, a table, and chairs. Two windows faced east toward the verdant expanse of the Drop and the forest at the foot of the mountains. The red paint looked deep and rich framed against the glistening floor and stark white of the ornate molding. “I’m sorry it’s not furnished, but we’ll set you up with an air mattress.”
“This is top-notch, Benj,” Ted said. He stepped into the bathroom and looked over the wrought-iron fixtures and the steam shower. “This all looks new. Don’t tell me that you—”
“I wish I could take credit, but we hired guys to add bathrooms to all the rooms that needed them.”
“That’s a relief. I was about to become extremely impressed.”
“Can’t have that, can we, Bub?” Ben said, though he was grateful for the compliment. Bub yawned but had the good manners to cover his mouth with a pair of little fists. “This one’s flagging. Let’s put him in for a nap.”
Bub’s room was just across the hall from Ben and Caroline’s. It was an airy room painted a springtime yellow.
“Dream good dreams, buddy.” Ben placed Bub carefully into his crib and clipped the baby monitor to his belt. He ushered Ted into the hall and closed the door behind him.
“Is this Charlie’s room?” Ted was peering into the room next to Bub’s. A single wall was painted blue, and a fish tank hummed against it. The floor was littered with the remains of an elaborate block structure.
“It’s sort of a death trap. We make him clean it regularly, but it never takes.”
Ted walked along the perimeter of the room and examined a jar on the floor. “He likes his creatures, doesn’t he?” He held it up to the light from the windows and saw that it was filled with faintly green water and bubbles of small gelatinous eggs. “How’s Charlie doing, Ben?”
“Really well. He loves the forest. Moving up here’s been good for him,” Ben said. He rapped on one wall that was built entirely of wood and studded with closet doors, display cases, drawers, and cupboards. “This room and Bub’s were originally one enormous room,” he said. “It must have been used as a parlor or a sitting room, because it was way too big for a bedroom. But we wanted the boys close to us, so we had the contractors add a wall of cabinetry here. Perfect for storing toys—in theory, at least. You’ll like this.” He stooped to open one of the larger cupboards, crawled into the compartment, and closed the door behind him.
After waiting for a few moments, Ted opened the door and peered into the empty compartment.
“What the—”
“Some of the cupboards open into both rooms,” Ben said, surprising Ted from the door to the hallway.
Ted reached into the cupboard and tapped open the door on the other side.
“That’s pretty cool. They’ll have fun with this when Bub’s older.”