| Freddy Ellsworth drove his red convertible up the narrow country road and pulled into a stony driveway. He had turned forty-seven yesterday and smiled, envisioning warmer climates in the not-too-distant future as balmy late- April breezes washed over him. Through the windshield he could see Jack lugging the last piece of summer furniture up the front steps and arranging it on the porch. Freddy parked the car and stepped out, giving Jack a quick salute. “Thanks for hauling that stuff out of the garage, Jack. Want things to look their best,” he said. “The shrubs you trimmed look great too.” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “No problem, Freddy,” he said, wiping a forearm across his brow as he bounded down the stairs. He wore blue jeans, sneakers and a red tee shirt. At twenty-three, Jack Mason was enjoying his current lot in life. He had finished college last year and now worked fulltime with Freddy Ellsworth at his real estate agency. Whether maintaining the unoccupied properties for sale, taking courses toward his license or accompanying Freddy on a showing, Jack enjoyed the variety and freedom this job provided. He pictured himself here for two or three more years, earning a bit of money and gaining experience before moving on to bigger things. There were bridges and high rises yet to be built. “Vic Anderson is going to snap this one up,” Freddy said. “Hard to put one over on a car salesman, but this house sells itself.” “It’s a beauty,” Jack agreed, admiring the light green Dutch Colonial Revival with a long lazy porch. An expansive lawn, surrounding trees and stunning view of the river valley made him realize that Freddy was right. The house would sell itself. “Stick around and pick up some pointers,” Freddy said, adjusting the knot in his tie. “Okay. Hey, nice one by the way,” Jack said, pointing at the bold printing on the tie. “Pineapples? Don’t recall seeing that one before.” “Birthday present from my wife Anna Beth,” he said, proudly fingering the tie as he showed it off. “Pretty neat, huh? I love it.” “As long as somebody does,” Jack teased as he walked by, gently punching Freddy in the arm. “Let me close the garage door. I hear a car heading up the road.” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik A few moments later, Vic Anderson sped up the driveway in a new 1981 white Cadillac Fleetwood, most of his family in tow. He sounded the horn as he waved to Freddy, parking beside him. The car doors swiftly opened and the Anderson family stepped out. “Good to see you again, Fred,” Vic said, exuding unending charm and enthusiasm while firmly shaking the real estate agent’s hand. “Great tie!” His thick silvery head of hair was tousled by the wind. “Of course you remember my lovely wife Suzy, and I brought some of the family this time to give the place the once-over before we seal the deal.” Vic introduced his children as they walked up the driveway to the house. “This is George, the younger of my two sons. He starts high school next year. Patrick’s at baseball practice now, and he’s pretty good too, right, Suzy?” “He is indeed, sweetheart.” “Nice to meet you, George,” Freddy said with a nod. “And this lovely lady is my oldest,” Vic said proudly, indicating his daughter. “Charlene helps me run the office at my dealership. Great with numbers. Keeps all that paperwork tamed and organized.” “Pleased to meet you also,” Freddy said, smiling at the blonde twenty-two year old in a pastel pink flowered blouse and white slacks. “You too, Mr. Ellsworth,” she replied as they ambled past the garage on the way to the house. Charlene glanced to her right and noticed Jack heading in their direction. He looked up at the same moment, their eyes meeting. A warm breeze brushed across the property and through the adjacent field. © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “Oh, this is Jack Mason,” Freddy added, making a quick round of introductions as Jack approached. “He works for me. Hopes to be selling houses on his own someday.” “As long as you don’t make me wear those ties,” Jack said, pleased that Charlene joined in on the resulting laughter. He and Charlene exchanged a silent smile as they climbed the front porch steps. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “And the view south out of any window in this house is spectacular,” Freddy said as he, Vic and Suzy gazed outdoors through a picture window in the upstairs hallway. Splashes of warm April sunshine flooded the plush carpeting. “I adore this house,” Suzy said, opening a small window and inhaling the sweet air. “I hereby claim this room!” George called out from a side hallway. “Finders keepers!” Charlene inched up and peeked through the window, pointing out a few white flowering trees off to the left side of the property. Jack stood at attention near the top of the staircase, his hands clasped behind his back, noting her subtle reflection in the window pane. “What are those pretty trees in the tall grass, Mr. Ellsworth?” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “Those are–” “–apple trees!” Jack eagerly chimed in, as if unaware of anyone else in the hallway except for Charlene. “They produce good fruit, too.” “They look so lovely in bloom. And I see a small stream nearby. I just have to check it out!” Charlene gushed as she spun around. “Jack, could you show me the way?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “Um, sure… I mean, if that’s okay,” he tried to casually remark while glancing at Charlene’s father. Vic nodded. “You go ahead, son,” he pleasantly said as he guided his wife into the next room. “And if Freddy needs you, well, we can spot you out any of these windows!” “Yes, sir,” Jack said as Charlene brushed past, indicating with a grin for him to follow her down the stairs. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “So you run your father’s dealership?” Jack asked as they walked across the spongy grass through an intoxicatingly sweet breeze. “Well, just the office,” Charlene said. “I don’t actually sell any cars.” “Bet you could do that too,” Jack said. © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “I’m training someone to work in his new place that opens next month. It’s fifteen miles east of here. That’s why Dad and Mom want to buy a new house. Something midway between,” Charlene explained. “Besides, they’ve always wanted a bigger home, and since business is picking up…” “You couldn’t have chosen a better one. Just look at that view,” Jack said, stopping to gaze across the valley. “My, but whoever maintained this property did a fantastic job!” Charlene laughed. “Jack, are you bragging?” “Maybe just a little bit.” He shrugged, looking into her eyes for a moment, enchanted by her soft features, but hoping she didn’t think he was staring. “Well, a man should take pride in his accomplishments,” she replied, turning and walking to the edge of the taller grass and gazing at the apple trees a short distance away. Jack followed her like a puppy. “I hope to accomplish even bigger things. One day I’d like to design and build– buildings.” “Oh?” “But only after I reconstruct that last sentence.” Charlene smiled, inhaling the scent of apple blossoms wafting through the air as the sound of a nearby stream gurgled beyond the trees. “The apple blooms smell wonderful, but I don’t dare walk any closer through the tall grass in these shoes.” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “I don’t suggest it.” “And your sentence was quite fine, Jack. So you’ve decided to go on for more schooling?” Jack gave Charlene a quick rundown of his architectural ambitions. “But you never know in the end. Selling real estate could grow on me. Today’s a pretty good day after all,” he said with a grin dripping with infatuation as the brilliant sunshine filtered through a trio of towering pines. “Though I’ll miss maintaining this property if your father buys it.” “Oh, he will,” Charlene assured him. “He and Mom both love it. And now that I see the house, I do too.” Jack sighed. “Well, that settles it. I guess I’ll have no reason to stop by anymore.” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “That’d be a shame,” Charlene said with an exaggerated sigh. “Then again, I suppose I could invite you up for dinner occasionally just for old time’s sake.” “Now there’s an idea,” Jack said as a chorus of crickets sang in the field. “I can give you my phone number. I have an apartment in town.” “Great. And then maybe sometime…” “Yeah, maybe…” Jack studied her soft smile as he rocked back and forth on his feet. “Say, do you like going to the movies?” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Grape-size raindrops pelted the skylights above a crowded shopping mall food court. Tangles of black, gray and white August clouds drifted chaotically overhead. Inside, a gentle strum of guitar strings filled the wide corridor as Christopher Cross’s Sailing issued from a wall speaker nearby. Jack gazed at the pounding rain then glanced at Charlene sitting across the table enjoying a salad and ginger ale. © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “Some walk, huh?” he said with a roll of his eyes before dipping one of his fries into a pool of ketchup. “It might clear up, Jack. Besides, sitting here and talking with you is fun, too,” Charlene said, playfully tapping Jack’ s foot. “What shall we talk about?” Charlene smirked affectionately. “Well, how about the way you drown your French fries with ketchup before eating them?” she teased. “Though it is endearing.” Jack laughed as he tossed a fry into her salad. “That’s how I’ve eaten them since I was a little kid. You’ll have to get used to that delightful quirk of mine.” Jack stared at Charlene, raising an eyebrow. “Shall I tell you about one of your quirks?” Charlene leaned back. “I’m not sure. Dare I ask?” “Go ahead.” Charlene blushed, taking a sip of her soda. “Okay, Jack. Zing me. I can take it.” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “All right, except that–I can’t.” Jack picked up another French fry, dipping it in ketchup. “You see, Charlene, up to now, you been, well–perfect.” He ate the fry, chewing it with a serious expression before bursting uncontrollably into a grin. “Good answer,” Charlene replied, stealing one of his fries. “Charming and calculating at the same time. But I’m not entirely perfect, you know. I once dropped my brother’s baseball in a bucket of green paint.” “Nasty.” “I was thirteen and he was annoying.” “I hid one of my sister’s favorite shoes in the sandbox for a week,” Jack one-upped her. “Loretta nearly killed me.” “That’s not a quirk. That was just mean.” “So was the green baseball.” “True.” Charlene thought for a moment. “I’ve finished at least two dozen paint-by-number sets. All of them kittens and puppies.” “Hmmm, you’ve got a thing for paint?” “Maybe.” “A half jar of spaghetti sauce has been sitting in my refrigerator for about five weeks? Still good?” Charlene made a disgusted face. “Toss it.” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “Chicken.” “I love chicken–barbecued. And a fine glass of red wine, riding horses and counting stars in an autumn sky.” Jack leaned forward and spoke softly, feigning grave seriousness. “I once saw a star that landed in a snow bank when I was eight years old.” “Impossible,” Charlene said, eating her salad. “The snow would’ve melted.” “But it didn’t. Then after I ran away from the star I heard…” Charlene looked up, noting the unreadable expression pasted upon Jack’s face. “Heard what? What happened?” Jack tilted his head as he leaned back in his chair, smiling slyly. “I think I’d rather not say just yet. Maybe someday I’ll tell you.” “Big secret?” Jack winked playfully. “Okay, be that way. I’ll get the truth out of you one way or another.” “There’s no big secret,” Jack assured her. He then again peered up at the sodden skies above Sage Harbor and grimaced. “And that’s no sun shower. Not exactly the day I had planned for us.” “We could go see another movie,” Charlene suggested as handfuls of shoppers and diners, many clutching plastic bags and foam coffee cups, drifted in either direction past the food court. The mall corridors were bulging to near capacity with the onset of inclement weather. © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik Jack shrugged. “I had my heart set on walking with you today.” “Some plans are meant to be changed, Mr. Mason. You’ll just have to be content spending your afternoon here with me,” she replied with a smile before spearing a tomato wedge with her fork and popping it into her mouth. “I can do that, Miss Anderson.” Jack returned the smile. “And as for some of my other plans…” “Oh? What about them?” Charlene curiously inquired, pleasantly intrigued by the pretended mysteriousness in Jack’s tone of voice. “About me going on for more schooling someday? Well, I think I’m kind of happy right now in real estate. I enjoy it– selling instead of building.” Jack contentedly leaned back in his chair. “And I’m happy being with you, too. You don’t seem to mind me hanging around after all.” “Well…” Charlene crinkled her nose before bursting into a grin. “Not in the least, Jack. I was hoping to squeeze in more movies and dinners and walks with you. It’s a habit I don’t want to break any time soon.” “Wouldn’t think of it,” Jack said, his words tinged with the warmth of a summer’s day now hidden behind the low- lying clouds stretched across town. “I can see us walking here and there, hand in hand, for quite some time.” © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik “Me too,” Charlene softly replied. And so they did, even as the lush greens of summer gradually dissolved into the frosted golds, reds and yellows of a crisp and thriving autumn. They walked through leaves and snow and the biting chill of January, and dined on steaks and red wine in February candlelight, and later on Chinese takeout while sitting on the front porch steps as drooping bunches of purple and white lilacs lightly perfumed the air. But spring swiftly retreated with the lighting of the first barbecues, and summer progressed at its usual meteoric pace. Miles of lazy driving commenced along steamy asphalt roads, under canopies of stars and past lakeshores and quaint cafés and windblown willows. Ears of corn were picked, lemonade was poured over clear, cracking ice, and hours of conversation filled up the wide stretchable spaces of summertime. But all too soon the sunlight waned as once more storm windows replaced screens and clouds grew leaden. Trees again burst into vibrant colors and leaves quickly piled high upon the sidewalks. Another of many long strolls commenced as Jack and Charlene swished through the unraked walks in cool late- September twilight. Hand in hand they wandered, under the glow of starlight and beneath the subtle shade of bony trees until they stopped under the pale light and gentle hum of a streetlamp. Jack tenderly held her shaking hand as a shooting star from long ago sailed across the edges of his memory. Nervous words were spoken as he lovingly placed a ring upon her finger. And the walk continued the following June down the aisle of St. Dominic’s Church when roses bloomed in bunches and the sun was pasted upon a sapphire-blue sky. Under a shower of confetti and smiles, Jack and Charlene exited the church to the pipe organ notes of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik And five years later they stood outside the front window of Jack’s new office on a sunny May morning in East Oaks. Friends, relatives and city officials gathered, snapshots were taken and a stretch of gold ribbon was cut with a large pair of ceremonial scissors. Everyone applauded as Mason Real Estate was officially opened for business. Will Mason, now three, grabbed onto his father’s leg and wondered when he could have one of the helium balloons to play with. Charlene stood next to her husband and son, holding a bouncy Elaine, who wasn’t quite yet one. Only Freddy Ellsworth and his pineapple tie were missing, now lounging underneath a table umbrella somewhere along the Florida coast with his wife Anna Beth, a lit Cuban cigar and a cold pitcher of Piña Coladas. And then Jack sat with his wife and two children that following Christmas Eve in an oak pew in St. Dominic’s church, Will and Elaine both squirming between them before the start of the Mass. Lit candles and fresh pine wreaths decorated the walls and pillars as O Holy Night sounded from the choir loft. The outdoor air lay frosty and still on that cloudless night. As Jack lifted Will and placed him on one end of the pew, Charlene bundled up Elaine in her arms to keep her away from her brother now banished to the opposite end. The two parents glanced at one another and smiled, silently acknowledging the endless labor and creativity that went into rearing their family each and every day. © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik Then Charlene took her husband’s hand and looked up at him. “What are we going to do this time next year, honey?” “Hmmm?” Jack said, tousling his son’s hair. “Well, we’ll have one child on either side of us,” she said, gazing at Jack with a playful sparkle in her eye, “and a third one in between.” “What do you–” Then with thunderbolt clarity, Jack understood, his thoughts frozen for an instant before breaking out into a Christmas-morning grin. He was still building things after all. © Copyright 2008 Thomas J. Prestopnik |
| ~ CHAPTER 8 ~ |
| A CHRISTMAS CASTLE |
| by Thomas J. Prestopnik © Copyright 2008 All Rights Reserved. |
