She slides her hand from mine once she’s up.Slidesit. Slowly enough for me to wonder if she was trying to prolong our contact. But she turns and walks out of the storage cage without a word, and I follow her to the stairs.
When we reach the first floor, I stop at the exit. “I’m outta here. I have a historical rogue to disparage. And by disparage, I mean tell the truth about.”
“Thanks again for coming.” She slides her hands into her back pockets. She’s also in sneakers, and with the cutoffs and sunflowers on her shirt, the effect should be wholesome.
It is not. It’s hot, and not because we’ve left the cool of the basement.
“I could show you what I’ve learned about the building,” she says. “Probably in less than ten minutes, if you’re in a rush.”
Like I can say no to that. “Sammy’s been dead close to three hundred years. He can wait a few minutes. But head’s up that this is a test of your docent skills.”
She smirks. “Good thing that’s how I started at the Sutton.” She removes her hands from her pockets, straightens her shoulders, lifts her chin, and gives me a professional “welcome to the tour” smile. “If you’ll follow me this way, we’ll begin.”
She walks us to the mailboxes. “This is one of the building’s many vintage features. The Serendipity began life in the 1930s when it was built as a women’s dorm for the college. Thirty years later, when it was converted to apartments, these were installed and endure even now.”
“Miss, yes, hi, could you tell me what those are made of?” I ask in the voice of that-guy-on-the-tour-who-thinks-he-knows-everything.
“These are brass,” she says, “and the inside of each door is stamped ‘Keyless Lock Company, 1964.’”
Not surprised she knows that. “But, miss, that’s an Egyptian design on the edges. How can you be sure these weren’t stolen during the height of Egyptomania right out of a pharaoh’s tomb? Those could be real gold.”
Her eyebrows go up. “Fascinating point, sir. I hadn’t even considered that, but the use of Arabic numerals instead of hieroglyphs is one of the clues our excellent curators used to determine the correct era.”
“Okay, I can’t do my character anymore. It’s making me hate myself.”
“Thank goodness. Want to see the rest?”
She shows me the commercial kitchen, available for all residents to use, but she’s heard the owner’s girlfriend runs a baking business out of it. The parlor/ballroom is where dorm residents used to receive gentlemen callers and is now where the building manager works.
We pause halfway down the hall, apartments on one side, the courtyard on the other, where the wall gives way to windows. They look out on a rectangular pool and water splashing down a large decorative fountain.
“The coolest thing Steve told me is that the building is fed by Serendipity Spring, the one the town is named for.”
“Thatiscool. And pretty unusual to build to accommodate it. That must be why I’ve heard of this place. It would definitely explain why my grandfather liked it.”
We follow the hallway around, and once we’re on the other side of the parlor, she points to the elevator and the room next to it, its door open.
“Scary elevator. And maybe not totally reliable? Steve mumbled something about that. And that’s the library. It’s mostly classics plus some map volumes and a full encyclopedia, all from the dorm days.”
“How do the apartments look? Do they still have dorm vibes?”
“No, Jay, I will not be inviting you up to my dorm room.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes at her for once, and she grins.
“Mine looks great. It doesn’t give dorm room vibes at all. It feels old in the good way, with the original hardwood floors and crown molding, just like out here.” She points to the ceiling. “The other floors are the same but no kitchen or library. Oh, and I guess the new owner has a penthouse on the top floor. I haven’t explored up there, so I’m not sure.”
“It’s no outdated caretaker’s cottage on the back of your grandfather’s estate, but it’s all right.”
“You don’t like the cottage?”
“I love the cottage, but it hasn’t been updated since before I was born. This place, though?” I glance around us. “This place is certified cool.”
“It’s pretty great.”
Silence falls between us, and it’s awkward. I glance toward the entrance. “Thanks for the tour. I’ll see you at the house?”
“I’ll be pretty busy.” She says it like it’s a warning. “I have to finish my presentation for the board meeting next week.”
