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

offered to be her friend, and not seeing him for many weeks made her aware that she wanted more than friendship. And she knew she had to be the first to thrown down the gauntlet to ascertain whether he would be receptive.

“It wouldn’t bother me if you called me doll or sweetheart.” She knew she’d shocked him when his foot suddenly hit the brake, the SUV coming to a complete stop in the middle of the street, followed by a cacophony of blaring horns. Her heart was pumping a runaway rhythm when she realized they could’ve been rear-ended by the car behind them. “Taylor, you’re holding up traffic.”

He eased off the brake and resumed driving. He took his right hand off the wheel and covered her left, resting on her thigh, brought it to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I believe we’re going to have a lot of fun working together.”

Sonja had fought the dynamic vitality he’d exuded effortlessly and failed. “You think?”

Taylor winked at her. “I know.”

He’d said the two words with such confidence that it buoyed hers. They had time, at least a year, to discover where their friendship would take them.

Chapter Seven

With wide eyes, Sonja stared at the gatehouse. “Isn’t this where your mother lives?” she asked Taylor. He’d told her his mother owned a condo in a gated community.

“No. Her condo is in Sparta. It’s about thirteen miles south of here.”

Taylor decelerated and then came to a complete stop at the gatehouse. He lowered the driver’s-side window and spoke to the man inside the enclosure. She couldn’t hear what they were saying. The attendant leaned down and peered in at Sonja. Smiling, he waved to her, and she returned his wave with one of her own.

The gate rose smoothly, and Taylor drove through, following a paved road to an enclave of two-story farmhouse structures with broad porches, second-floor balconies and attached garages. There were signposts along the road indicating the direction to shops, the recreation center, movie theater and restaurant.

“How did you find this place?” Sonja asked.

“I contacted a Realtor, who told me the developer was having a problem selling units, and rather than leave them vacant he’d opted to lease a few. From what I’ve seen of the development I think you’ll enjoy living here.”

“I like what I see. It appears I won’t have to leave to shop for food or eat out.” She paused. “Do you know why it has been difficult to sell all the units?”

“Personally, I believe even with the number of on-site amenities they’re overpriced. Folks could buy a four-or five-bedroom home in the Poconos built on half an acre for a lot less than these two-and three-bedrooms.”

“How much does a three-bedroom go for?”

“Why? Are you thinking of buying one?”

Sonja shook her head. “Not hardly. If I was going to purchase property, it wouldn’t be in the middle of nowhere even with on-site amenities. However, if I were looking to downsize later in life, then maybe I would consider it.”

“Are you saying you couldn’t see yourself living at Bainbridge House?”

“I could if I was a docent.”

Taylor pulled into the driveway to a house at the end of a street and shut off the engine. “Bainbridge House is not going to be a museum.”

Shifting on her seat, Sonja turned and gave Taylor a long, penetrating stare. “It could be a hotel and a museum. I told you before that I have some ideas about the property, so if you want we can talk about it after I settle in.”

Taylor unsnapped his belt. “Okay. Why don’t you take a few days to get used to your surroundings before you begin working.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ve scheduled interviews for several days this week.”

She nodded. “I’d like to ask a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to go through the trunks during my downtime.”

“You want me to bring them here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure, Sonja?”

“Yes, I am sure.” She had carefully enunciated each word. “After spending hours attempting to identify the period and style of a particular plate, fork or candlestick, examining the contents of the trunks will be like a breath of fresh air.” Sonja didn’t tell Taylor that she was curious to uncover additional information about the original owners of the historic house. Old letters, journals, bills of sale were helpful when authenticating items.

“I’ll bring them over later tonight.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you, sir.”

Taylor smiled. “You’re welcome, ma’am. Let’s go inside so you can check out your new digs.”

Sonja stared, tongue-tied, as she surveyed the open floor plan of the house that was to become a place she could call home. White walls, with creamy upholstered furniture, heightened the illusion of openness in the living, dining, and family rooms, which made the space appear even larger. White cabinets, yellow and cornflower blue tiles, and cobalt blue countertops and colorful accessories created a cheerful mood in the contemporary kitchen. The classic combination of blue and white was timeless and was repeated in throw pillows, area rugs and the dining area chair seat cushions.

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at Taylor. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” And for Sonja it was perfect. Move-in ready with a large wall-mounted television and audio components in the family room and under-cabinet radio in the kitchen.

He moved closer and put an arm around her waist. “I was hoping you would like it.”

“Of course, I like it.”

“It’s one of two two-bedroom model units.”

Moving into the condo would signal a significant change in Sonja’s life. It would be the first time in twenty years she would live independently of others. First, she’d lived on base with her parents; then she’d shared an off-campus apartment with a roommate before marrying Hugh and moving into his house. During their separation she’d gone from her husband’s house to her parents’ retirement home in the Adirondack Mountains to heal and plan the next phase of what had been her tumultuous life. And once she decided to return to college, it wasn’t in Boston, but in