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

“I’ll try and see you when you come in Saturday.”

“Don’t stress yourself if you can’t get out of the kitchen.” Taylor had taken the train down from Connecticut and into Manhattan a week after Viola had been hired at the restaurant. He’d wanted to discover why the establishment had earned the prestigious Michelin star and was more than impressed with what he’d ordered. The Cellar opened for dinner Tuesday through Saturday, and reserving a table was highly recommended.

“Just send me a text when you arrive, and whenever I get a break I’ll come out to see you.”

Taylor knew it was useless to argue with Viola, because once she set her mind to something, she was like a dog with a bone. “Okay.” Viola grasped the handles of her tote and opened the passenger-side door. He waited until she walked into the lobby of the building and then programmed the navigation app for the best route to Stamford, Connecticut.

During the drive he thought about how his supervisor would react to his resigning within weeks of getting a promotion. Not only would he leave the firm, but also he had to make plans to relocate from Connecticut to New Jersey. The decision wouldn’t be an easy one because he liked his job, but when he had to weigh it against not leaving or undertaking a family project the latter won out. He owed everything that he’d become to Conrad and Elise Williamson and for Taylor it was family above all. He tapped the screen on the dashboard and activated the Bluetooth for his mother’s number. She picked up after the first ring.

“I just got a text from Viola that you dropped her off.”

Elise was overly protective when it came to Viola. Initially, she’d been apprehensive about her daughter living alone New York City, fearing she would become a crime statistic. “Mom, you’re going to have to stop pressuring Viola to check in with you. She’s not a child—she’s a twenty-eight-year-old woman living and working in the city that is now her home.”

“I know, Taylor, but I can’t help it. You don’t know how many times I’ve blamed myself for homeschooling all of you. Perhaps if I’d enrolled my children in traditional schools where they were able to interact with other kids or signed you up for sleepaway camp and had other kids for sleepovers, then I wouldn’t be so overprotective.”

Taylor did not remind his mother that he and his siblings did not have sleepovers because they had one another. “Don’t beat up on yourself, Mom. You did a fantastic job raising us. Just try and ease up on Viola. I know you’re selling the house, and I’d like you to ask your Realtor to find a rental for me within a ten-mile radius of Bainbridge House.” Taylor estimated it would take at least two years for the main house suites and guesthouses to be completely refurbished, and he intended to make one of the guesthouses his permanent residence.

“You don’t need a rental because you can live in my condo for as long as you want. I’ve already furnished it. I plan to live here until closing.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to sell the house before you leave for your cruise?”

“Hopefully, yes. I have another four months and the Realtor reassures me he will be able find a buyer by that time. If not, then I’ll close it up, take the cruise and deal with selling it once I return.”

The 5000-square-foot farmhouse built on four acres with an in-ground pool and tennis and basketball courts would be perfect for a large or extended family. It was where Taylor had learned to swim, shoot hoops and play tennis. He and his brothers and sister had not needed a day or sleepaway camp during the summer months when they cooked and played outdoors from sunrise to sunset. The Williamson kids agreed they’d had the best childhood possible. They had also grown up with pets ranging from dogs, cats, birds and fish, plus a family of rabbits that kept multiplying until Elise decided to give them to pet shops.

“Thanks for offering your condo. I recently got a notice for a lease renewal, so the timing is perfect.” Before he vacated the apartment he would have to pack up the furnishings and ship them to a New Jersey storage facility.

“You don’t have to thank me, Taylor. You know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my children. When I see you next month I’ll give you a set of keys and the remote device for the gate. I’ll also put your name on the management list in case you’re approached by security. Better yet, the next time you come down I’ll take you to see my new home.”

Although Elise had dropped hints about Bainbridge House, she had been completely mum when it came to her purchasing the two-bedroom unit in a gated community with amenities that included indoor and outdoor pools, tennis courts, an on-site concierge for laundry, dry cleaning, recreation center, supermarket and coffeeshop. Conrad’s death had left Elise a very wealthy widow. He had also established a trust to restore Bainbridge House with the proceeds from the sale of his investment company totaling more than a half billion dollars.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I love you, Taylor.”

“Love you, too, Mom.” It didn’t matter that she hadn’t given birth to him—he couldn’t have loved her more even if she had. She was soft-spoken, patient, affectionate and fiercely protective of her children. Elise, aware of the traumas her sons and daughter had experienced before being placed in foster care, made certain all had been in therapy, individually and as a family group. The sessions had allowed them to work through their unresolved issues while at the same time forming and tightening the bond as a family unit. This is not to say Taylor and his siblings didn’t have their squabbles, but as they grew older they learned to settle their