The limo pulled up the long cement driveway to the mansion that sat back of the property. The front was a desert oasis with its many live cacti, shrubs, and what flowering plants would bloom in Arizona, ponds and running streams over which the driveway led on wooden arches. Some ponds were graced with different sized waterfalls; each one differed from the other in beauty and the grace it added to the scenery.
Bruce and Greg turned their heads one way then another to look at the unexpected scenes that passed them by. Jonathan smiled knowing they were caught up in the lovely terrain of his Uncle's front yard, and he knew that soon they would want to meander through it when the sun began to set. He had often done the same, it being his only escape from reality at times. And it always helped him to focus on trying to hang on until something better did come along.
The car stopped before the magnificent edifice that was the mansion itself. Columns lined the passageway to the porch and were accompanied by varying statues between them. The porch was supported in the same manner wrapping itself around the sides of the huge building before them. Statues had been affixed between each column all different in size and shape. Majestic steps rose proudly to the porch bidding its own welcome to those who would visit.
The building itself was a lofty sight to see with three stories of the main part of the mansion that housed many windows of variable shapes and sizes allowing for much light to enter the spacious rooms. Many of the outer rooms of the mansion housed balconies upon which one could step out and enjoy the lovely sunrises and sunsets, or the view of the front yard. A few of these were arranged with patio furniture, tables with umbrellas and so on.
Bruce turned to Greg with a large grin his eyebrows raised in surprise and excitement. "I could get used to this," he commented to the man on his right.
The doctor chuckled nodding in agreement. "So, could I."
"Just wait 'till you see the inside," Jonathan piped and then the corners of his lips were turned up in a broad grin of satisfaction at their reactions to the sight.
"Oh, I'm ready, Jon. You lead the way, babe." Bruce motioned for the door that the chauffeur opened for them.
Jonathan stepped out waiting for them to join him. A brisk of warm breeze whisked around him causing his hair to float on its gentle currents. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the heated sunlight that was baring down upon him.
And at the moment, all memories of his Uncle had fled him, giving way to the thrill of bringing his new family to what he had basically grown up in, even though the accommodations for him were much different just months ago. He would no longer have to abide by those ruined walls and cramped living space that once was his. Instead, he had the choice of any room he desired to reside in, the thought of that excited him even more, to actually be able to live like a decent human being in his Uncle's mansion.
Hmm…
He smiled again. This was all his now and he could live like a king.
A wave of sensation rippled through his body as he stepped around the car leading the procession of men toward the front door. For the first time in his life he actually felt a freedom he had never really experienced before. It seemed to be accentuated by the occasional gusts of wind that carried his hair to one side as they went.
As they approached the front door, it opened revealing a stately man in a black tux and white shirt, gloves the whole nine yards.
"Mr. Bowman, what a pleasant surprise. We have made your accommodations ready; dinner will be served promptly at 5, sir. And welcome home, sir." The middle-aged man spoke eloquently to Jonathan in a smooth monotone. His graying hair added to the distinction of his appearance along with the dark richness of his healthy skin.
"Thank you, Forrest. It's good to be home again." Jonathan seemed to ignore him, though he spoke to him politely, his attentions on the interior that he remembered all too well.
The foyer was magnificent in its depth and height. The cathedral ceilings had a multitude of skylights cleverly placed to allow both the sun and moonlight to filter through and add further deepness to the shadows. Large ficus and fern plants were situated in a variety of spots surrounded by smaller pots of showy four o'clocks, and desert sunflowers and lilies. Interspersed between the skylights were crossbeams of sandalwood that threw into relief the muted washes of the creamy walls. The crenellated scrollwork was original and not a dust mote could be seen.
A silver salver on a small antique table was situated to the right of the door, to hold calling and business cards of those entering its portals. Jon noted that there were quite a few piling up, mostly condolences he supposed, mail he would have to go through at some point and answer. Men who would want to continue business and men who would be interested in looking Jon up for a continuation of their former relationship. But Jon had news for them. All of them.
Standing before the men, as Bruce and Greg gaped open-mouthed in surprise were the two staircases one on each side of the vast foyer. The carved banisters of the same light sandalwood were ornate in detail, intricate carvings of cherubs and nymphs eating grapes and playing instruments threaded up both sides. The treads were highly polished and bare of any other ornamentation. Discreet sconces were strategically placed in wall recesses every few feet to add low lights up to the open balcony on the second floor, the house then dispersed into two separate wings.
The fieldstone floor added to the coolness inherently necessary for such a high heat area. A large oriental throw rug was scattered in muted tones of blues, blacks and tans that accented and pulled together all of the décor. An antique roll desk was highlighted along the back wall of the curving staircases, highly burnished and containing old fashioned writing instruments on its surface. On either side were two life-sized replicas of Michelangelo's David, the sheer smoothness of the marble and the poignancy of his features were in evidence.
Whoever had recreated the works had a masterful touch,
was Greg's thought as he wandered over to stroke a thigh.
Suspended from the highest point of the ceiling was an old chandelier that easily had a thousand crystal beads that threaded down to about six inches each in little cascading falls of the four tiers. They glistened in the sunlight and with the soft sway of a distant breeze, caused the hall to dance with exploding bursts of light that quickly reshaped and reformed as the prisms shifted. Every once in awhile, a brief rainbow was captured on the wall before melting away. Jon knew that it was a costly piece and extremely heavy. Just to clean it once a year was an all day process requiring four people to maneuver it, two to work the crank gently to lower it and two servants to guide it to about two feet off the floor, so they could polish the gleaming brass finish and fixtures. A careful blend of soft solvents was used to wash the beads.
"Mr. Bowman, if you will not be requiring my services, I should like to resume the last of the preparations for you and your friends, sir." Forrest spoke drawing Jonathan out of his musings of the moment.
