Seeing Shadows (38 page)

I found myself glancing at Simon frequently during the trip. Every time he looked at me, it was difficult to not search his eyes for something that didn't belong there. It had been like this ever since my aunt's revelations. But I never saw anything except Simon's clear blue eyes looking back at me. It was hard to believe that there could be any such thing as a vardoger temporarily possessing Simon's body, even if it was for seconds at a time. Simon was too vibrant, too strong, too full of life to have anything overtake him.

We stopped in a town called Hancock to fill up on gas and grab a bite to eat, and then we were back on the road. Before I knew it, Simon started pointing out landmarks on the road, indicating that we were close to his house.

"That's my high school," he said, pointing to a large building made out of brick. I peered at it, trying to see it through the dark. I could barely make out the words Lincoln High School on the sign in front of the building.

"What were you like in high school?" I asked, turning to look at Simon's profile. I could imagine him being popular with girls fawning over him. Not much had changed in a few years. "Were you a jock?"

Simon shrugged as he glanced at me. "I ran in all different sorts of crowds. I'd like to think I had a mix of friends."

Grant leaned in between the front seats. "Don't let this guy be modest. He was an all-american in basketball. Plus he was the lead in every damn play. It got annoying having to go see that junk all the time."

Simon laughed. "It's a bit of an exaggeration to say I was the lead in every play. And no one made you come see me in them."

"Nuh uh!" Grant protested. "My mom did!"

I laughed at Grant's affronted expression. "Poor Grant. Having to be tortured by being exposed to the arts. High school arts, anyways." I turned to look back at Simon. "I didn't know you had an interest in acting."

"I don't. My school mostly put on musicals, so it was just fun to mess around with them. Nothing serious."

"Now that makes sense," I said. "Singing even back then, huh? Were you in a band in high school?"

"The Mechanical Pencils!" Grant yelled out.

"What?" Sarah asked from the back seat. "What are you babbling about, Grant?"

Simon grinned. "That was the name of our band in high school. Don't ask me how we came up with it. I think it was Grant's idea."

"Because we were in school. Pencils, right? And we always had an endless supply of lead. Get it? The Mechanical Pencils!" Grant explained.

Simon rolled his eyes. "It only makes sense in Grant's mind. And that's one place I never want to go."

Our conversation came to a halt as we turned into a gated street with a booth in the front. Before I could wonder out loud where we were, Simon pulled up to the booth and lowered his window. A middle-aged man in a grey uniform that strained against his pot belly was sitting in the booth. When we pulled up, he leaned his head out the window, nodding in recognition.

"Hi Simon. Long time no see. Visiting for Kendra's birthday?"

"Yup. Good to see you, Ray."

Ray then straightened in his chair and pushed a button that opened the gate. He gave Simon a wave as we started pulling into the now open street.

I silently watched the houses we passed, in awe of their size and grandeur. These weren't merely houses. They were estates. The mansions were on huge pieces of land, with perfectly manicured lawns that I could only imagine would be verdant and lush come spring.

"Holy crap," Sarah intoned, expressing my thoughts. "I think I've died and gone to Tara."

"I told you Simon was loaded," Grant said. "Now that helicopter idea doesn't sound so crazy, huh."

Simon just shook his head at Grant's comment and then looked over at me, gauging my reaction. I wasn't sure what he was looking for. I kept my face impassive, trying to mask my growing nervousness. Wealth had always made me uncomfortable. This was what my father had been striving for, was still striving for. And my lack of motivation for wanting to gain this type of wealth had been his biggest disappointment in me.

Although we never had money like Simon's family, we had lived a very comfortable life when I was younger. Back then, my father had a ruthlessness that unnerved me. He insisted on having a full time housekeeper, driver, gardener and all sorts of other hired help. Not so much because we needed them but because they were status symbols of his wealth. I had watched him treat them with contempt and disdain, regarding them as less worthwhile because they had to serve others for a living. When they all had to be dismissed because of my father's crumbling business, it seemed he resented them even more. As if it were somehow their fault that he could no longer afford them. It burned him to no end that these people he considered subservient knew that he had failed.

Wealth seemed to give too much power and control to people. And for someone like me, who was always struggling to keep control of my life, that seemed dangerous.

"What are you thinking?" Simon asked, shifting his eyes back to the road.

"That these houses are beautiful," I replied simply. Wouldn't most girls be ecstatic to know that the guy that was interested in them was loaded? To me, it seemed like another barrier, another complication. I knew a part of it came from an inferiority complex due to how my father had treated those without money, even if he was now one of them. He treated me like he used to treat his servants.

Simon said nothing else as he turned into a road lined with overhanging trees. It was a beautiful lane and I imagined it would be gorgeous in the autumn with the changing leaves. We then pulled into a circular driveway in front of a massive house that made the ones we had passed earlier seem provincial.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. "Wow, nice house."

That was laughable in its understatement. The house looked like what I imagined an English country estate would look like in the romance novels I used to devour in high school. There were dozens of lights in front of the house illuminating it so that it almost seemed like daylight. The front lawn was impeccably manicured even in the winter with ornamental bushes that seemed too intricate to be naturally occurring. The house itself was made out of light brown brick with wrought iron details and majestic sweeps of arched entryways. I half expected a sword brandishing Duke to storm out of the front doors.

"I wonder if your parents will adopt me," Sarah joked as we got out of the car.

Simon rolled his shoulders, looking a little uncomfortable. "The house is a little showy. And it's way too big for the number of people who actually live in it. I think my mom always dreamed of living in a house like this growing up, and my dad humored her." Simon looked at me, his eyes studying me. He seemed to sense my discomfort. "At heart, my mom is a southerner who grew up eating grits and cracklins."

I smiled, not wanting him to think I was uncomfortable. I told myself I was just meeting regular people who just happened to live in a mansion. Simon's reassurances helped me feel less nervous. "It's a beautiful house. And if you can afford it - why not? I'm sure we're going to have a great weekend."

Simon grinned, relaxing now that I seemed more at ease. He seemed so attuned to my feelings, and the fact that he always seemed to try and make me feel comfortable was appreciated.

The front door opened and an older woman with grey hair sleeked back into a bun and an easy smile stepped out. I would have guessed it was Simon's mother except she was wearing a simple black dress that looked like a uniform.

"Simon!" she exclaimed, walking towards us quickly. "It's so good to see you!" She embraced Simon and he leaned down, hugging her back.

"Hey Maxine. Figures you'd be waiting up."

Maxine grinned, the smile crinkling the wrinkles around her eyes. "Your mom is waiting for you too. She was so excited to see you she couldn't go to sleep. You know it's been three months since you've visited."

Maxine turned her warm brown eyes in my direction and her smile grew wider. "You must be Caitlin!"

"Uh, yes," I said, taken aback that she knew who I was. I assumed Maxine was the housekeeper and I wondered if one of her household duties was to know the name of every guest. I held out my hand, not knowing the proper way to greet her. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm a hugger," Maxine said by way of explanation as she grabbed me in a firm embrace. I tentatively patted her shoulder, not wanting to be rude but feeling uncomfortable. I was only used to a select few touching me, and having a stranger envelop me in a hug left me a bit discombobulated.

Simon laughed, probably at my befuddled expression. "You're going to scare her, Maxine."

"Nonsense," Maxine huffed after she had released me. "I could tell she was a hugger right away. She just doesn't know it yet." She surveyed me up and down. "You're a beautiful girl, just like Simon said. Just need to put some meat on your bones."

I flushed at Maxine's words. Apparently Simon had been talking about me to his housekeeper. What exactly had he said? Besides that I was beautiful. I felt a warm tingle grow inside me at those words. I pushed it aside as I wondered who else he had talked to about me. And why? As much as that tingle warmed my insides, I was also unnerved by the revelation. Having people talk about me, be curious about me, made me uneasy. I had enough to hide to want to prevent anyone from wanting to know more about me.

Simon seemed unperturbed by Maxine's revelation. Anyone else would have been embarrassed by Maxine's slip of the tongue but it didn't seem to bother Simon. Nothing seemed to embarrass Simon.

Maxine turned her attention to Grant. "Give this old lady a hug. You're just as bad as Simon about visiting."

Grant grinned and hugged Maxine. "Good to see you too, Maxine." He turned to Sarah and said, "Sarah, this is Maxine. She's worked for Simon's family as long as I can remember. She used to chase us out of her kitchen whenever we tried to steal cookies."

"Nice to meet you, Sarah," Maxine said, doling out another hug. "Well, the boys brought home two pretty girls. Now that's something."

Sarah hugged Maxine back, being a hugger herself. "Nice to meet you too, Maxine. You'll have to give us all the dirt about the trouble they used to get into when they were younger."

Maxine waggled her eyebrows. "I have plenty of dirt on them. I know where all the bodies are buried."

Simon laughed as he waved us toward the front door that was still open, light spilling through the doorway. "I think it's cold enough to warrant moving this reunion inside." He turned to Maxine. "Don't wake Harold. I'll put the car in the garage and bring the bags in later."

I was wondering who Harold was but that thought was forgotten as I entered the foyer. Sarah was right. We had died and gone to Tara. The east coast Tara. The foyer itself was as big as our entire cozy apartment in Rochester and I felt dizzy as I looked up at the high ceiling that was domed with a glass skylight. The stairs were grand, wrapping around itself in a majestic spiral. They were the type of stairs that I imagined debutantes would float down as they were announced into society.

Instead of a fresh faced debutante, there was presently a beautiful older woman walking down the stairs. She was wearing an emerald green sheath dress with black heels that were so high I would be tottering on them. But this woman walked down the stairs with practiced ease. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a soft chignon and a strand of pearls encircled her slim neck. I wondered what type of person dressed so formally this late at night. It had just hit midnight when we had arrived at Simon's house.

I looked down at my jeans and blue Oscar the Grouch t-shirt, feeling grubby from the long trip. I had assumed that everyone would be asleep since we were arriving so late, and I would meet Simon's family the next morning, when I had time to make myself presentable.

I felt extremely awkward, but the woman's blue eyes that were so much like Simon's were warm and welcoming.

"Simon! Finally!" she exclaimed, reaching the last step. She kissed Simon on the cheek, enveloping him in a hug. "I thought you'd never get here."