A New Foundation Rochelle Alers (read aloud .txt) 📖

Yolanda snorted delicately. “What did they expect when they sold themselves just to be accepted by those that looked down on them because they didn’t have the proper pedigree.”

“You are preaching to the choir, Auntie.”

“Now that you’ve seen the mansion, are you going to accept the commission to help restore it?”

“Yes.” Sonja knew she’d shocked her aunt when she revealed she would have to live in New Jersey. “I don’t want to drive ninety minutes to work, put in six or seven hours, and then sit in a car for another ninety-plus minutes in rush hour traffic, to turn around and do it again the next day.”

“When are you leaving?”

Sonja draped an arm around her aunt’s shoulders. “Not until early May.”

“I suppose that means you’ll be leaving the gallery.”

“Yes. I will let them know that I’ll stay until that time.” Sonja knew that once she become a part of the restoration team, her life and her future would not be the same. She was looking forward to her involvement in the restoration.

“What do you know about the family that built this mansion?”

“Not much,” Sonja admitted truthfully. She would set aside as much time as necessary to research the Bainbridges and hopefully discover Taylor’s father’s connection to the wealthy family that had erected an exact replica of a French château in northern New Jersey.

Chapter Six

Taylor took one last look around the apartment and then left the keys, as instructed by the building manager, on the kitchen countertop. The movers had come earlier that morning and transported the boxes to their van to take them to a storage unit near his mother’s condo. Meanwhile, he’d packed and stored his clothes, personal items and the steamer trunks in the cargo area of the SUV. He’d called Elise to let her know he planned to stop and see her in Belleville before they drove up to Sparta.

His week had begun with him going to Bainbridge House because the security company was scheduled to wire the house and install cameras around the property. Even with a team of eight technicians it had taken nearly a week to set up everything. The caretaker had admitted he felt more secure now that the property was electronically monitored.

Taylor found Elise sitting on the porch knitting, the familiar rhythmic clicking of the needles reminding him of a time when his mother spent her spare time knitting sweaters, gloves, scarfs and hats for his sister and brothers. If she wasn’t knitting, she could be found reading. Although a woman came in three days a week to clean and do laundry, Elise had insisted on preparing meals for her family.

Walking up the porch steps, Taylor leaned over and pressed his lips to his mother’s graying strawberry-blond hair. “Hello, beautiful.”

A flush suffused Elise’s face following his compliment. When the social worker had brought him to the home of Elise Williamson, Taylor had believed she was a princess. He’d been told the tall, slender woman with a pale complexion, wavy reddish hair and sapphire-blue eyes was to become his new mother. She had insisted he call her Mom even though, at six, he knew she couldn’t be his mother because his cousins looked like his aunt, and all of the kids in his class looked like their mothers. His greatest fear was going to school and having this woman come and identify herself as his mother and having his classmates laugh or call him a liar. It was only when he realized he didn’t have to leave the house to attend classes, and that his foster mother had planned to homeschool him, that Taylor’s fears vanished and he was able to call her Mom.

“You should be sweet-talking a young woman around your age instead of your seventy-two-year-old momma.”

“I don’t have time to sweet-talk anyone, Mom.”

She gave him a long, penetrating stare as he folded his body down on a rocker facing hers. “I hope you don’t get so caught up in restoring your father’s property that you forget to relax.”

Stretching out long legs, Taylor crossed his booted feet at the ankles. “I’d wanted to ask you about Dad’s property.”

Elise’s hands stilled. “What do you want to know?”

“When did Dad know he’d inherited Bainbridge House?” He had learned not to ask Conrad about his family because the older man would give him a look that told him that he was prying. It was Elise who had occasionally revealed a few incidents in her husband’s life that he’d loathed talking about.

“It was after his aunt died. He’d talked about owning land in the northern part of the state, but whenever I asked him what he intended to do with it he claimed he didn’t know. A couple of months after he sold his company he took me to see it. I was so shocked that I was at a loss for words. Before that, he’d had the property appraised with the intention of selling it, and because he didn’t say anything I’d assumed he’d sold it.”

“Did he ever live at Bainbridge House?”

“Yes. He said he lived there before his parents’ boating accident. He said he loved riding the horses. And when the ewes had lambs, he would give them all names. He said the caretaker didn’t have to cut grass in the area where the sheep grazed because they were four-footed lawn mowers.”

Taylor bit back a smile. Sonja had talked about chickens, ducks and sheep. “Why didn’t you tell us about this before Easter Sunday?”

Leaning to her right, Elise put her knitting into a quilted bag beside her chair on the floor. “Conrad added a codicil to his will, and it wasn’t until the reading of the will that was I made aware that he’d left the estate to me and his children. Meanwhile, I wanted to wait until the entire family was together to give everyone the news.”

Taylor pressed his head against the back of the rocker and stared at the glass-topped wicker table and matching chairs in a corner of the