arrival. This was the house Anne had talked about all the time when they were together. The home she was raised in as an orphan by her aunt. He’d recognize the cookie-cutter-trimmed Victorian from her descriptions. Architecturally he could appreciate the amazing structure with its period corbels, fish-scale shingles and cedar shakes.
Matt regretted that he hadn’t actually looked at the house before this, instead relying only on the geographic maps to plan the construction.
Would he have changed his mind and found another way to the lake if he’d seen how unique it was? If he’d known it was Anne’s home?
He’d never know for sure. “That’s her house?” Claire breathed.
“Looks like it is.”
“It sort of looks like a castle,” she said, talkative for the first time ever.
“What makes you think that?”
“Look at that pointy room there with the long windows.”
“A turret.”
“Turret,” she repeated. “That’s a room where a princess lives. Like Rapunzel.”
“A princess,” Matt murmured. He shook his head, trying to see the big house from his daughter’s eyes.
“I never thought about it that way, Claire. But I can see you’re absolutely right.”
Yeah, it was a castle with a princess inside. A dark-haired princess with chocolate-brown eyes who apparently had no clue that her castle was under siege.
“They’re here,” Aunt Lily called. Excitement bubbled over in her voice. “Oh, hurry, hurry.”
“I’m right behind you.” Anne smoothed her hair and took a deep breath as her aunt pulled back the heavy, paneled curtains for another peek.
“My, isn’t he handsome?” Lily said, cocking her head to the side. “He looks a little familiar. Do I know him?”
Anne swallowed and began a hasty prayer under her breath.
“Oh, look they brought their dog,” she announced.
“He’s a big fellow.”
“Yes. Six foot three.”
Lily laughed. “I meant the dog.” She turned to Anne and smiled. “My, you look lovely, dear.”
“Thank you.” Anne glanced down at her black slacks and rose-print blouse and removed a small thread. She tucked her hair behind her ear and fussed with her bangs.
She’d obsessed over what to wear this morning, finally deciding to go casual yet professional. However, confidence in her apparel and being fully prepared to instruct on Type 1 Diabetes still failed to take the edge off her churning stomach or to still her trembling hands.
When the doorbell rang Aunt Lily carefully maneuvered her walker down the short hall. She straightened her dress and pushed her shoulders back, ready to greet her guests. A huge grin lit up her elfin face as Anne opened the door.
“Hello, hello,” Lily brightly called.
Behind the screen stood Matt, bigger than life on crutches, with Claire by his side, her arms protectively crossed. A pink backpack with all her diabetic supplies hung from her wrist. Stanley panted eagerly, ready for action, though he obediently waited on the sidewalk, his tail slapping the cement.
“Ma’am.” Matt nodded and met Anne’s gaze. His was apologetic and revealed the depth of his nervousness. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“It’s not a problem.” She smiled at his daughter. “How are you feeling, Claire?”
“Better,” the little girl murmured.
“Aunt Lily, this is Mr. Clark and his daughter, Claire.”
“How wonderful to meet you,” Aunt Lily said with enough perky energy and enthusiasm to cover the potential awkwardness of the moment.
Confusion registered on Matt’s face as he stared at Lily. He quickly regrouped.
“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Gray.”
“Call me Lily. Oh, we’re going to be friends. I can see that.” She glanced at his ankle boot and crutches. “What happened?”
“A little accident.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Still looking perplexed, Matt held up a dog dish and a water bottle. “Would it be okay for Stanley to wait out here?”
“We can do better than that,” Lily said. “The backyard has a little gazebo. He could wait there and have some shade.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“I like your house,” Claire said, her gaze moving past Anne and Lily to peek down the long front hall.
“Well, thank you, dear. It is very special.”
“Claire says it reminds her of a castle,” Matt added.
“A castle?” Lily smiled at the girl. “You’re very right. That’s exactly what my grandmother had in mind when the house was built for her.”
Lily turned to Anne. “Why don’t you show Mr. Clark and his dog the way to the backyard? This young lady and I will meet you there. I’ll give her a little tour of our home along the way.”
Claire’s eyes widened with delight and Anne could only blink with pleasant surprise at her aunt’s take-charge attitude as she held open the door and ushered Claire in. Today Aunt Lily was very lucid and Anne couldn’t help but wonder if it was Claire who was responsible.
“Your aunt isn’t exactly what I remembered,” Matt said as he tucked his crutches beneath his arms.
“Ten years is a long time. And as I recall, you had about twenty minutes in her presence.”
“Yeah, well, as I recall, twenty minutes was pretty much all I needed.”
Anne could hardly refute his words. Her aunt had been ruthless in her dismissal of Matt, forbidding Anne from contacting him in any way, shape or form.
The two of them were silent as Stanley led the way, trotting gingerly on the wide, shale paver path along the side of the house and pausing on occasion to wait for Matt to catch up on his crutches.
Were they both thinking of the past?
“Your aunt really doesn’t remember me?”
“Not today she doesn’t. She has some vascular dementia and was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Some days her personality, temperament and memory fluctuate like the weather.”
He frowned. “Claire will be okay with her?”
Anne stiffened. “Yes. Of course. She’s not dangerous.”
“Sorry. I’m not familiar... I didn’t mean to imply...” He shrugged.
She knew she should say something gracious to let him off the hook, but the words eluded her. The situation was becoming more awkward by the minute, just as she’d feared.
When they passed the corner of the house, the yard came into view. Stanley was desperate for freedom and made his needs clear as he tugged on the leash and whined in an effort to reach the expansive and lush lawn spread in front of them.
The sight was one Anne never took for granted. An acre of green grass that rivaled any golf course stretched all the way from the house to a border of dense trees.
“Wow, that’s quite a yard. How do you get the grass so green?” he asked.
“My aunt spent years cultivating just