secret. All she seemed to care about was enjoying the ride. She held up her hand. “Anybody hungry besides me? Maybe we should stop before we invade this person’s home. Can we find a restaurant?”
Lou seconded the motion. Then Claire spotted a man in a neighboring car she swore was Robert Redford.
Jim gave up. It was clear that his angst about the ark was a private matter, whether he wanted it to be or not. Fifteen minutes later they were in a booth at a roadside restaurant discussing the Philadelphia Eagles with a couple in the next booth.
#
The driveway to the mansion was a crisp river of macadam, wide enough to warrant a stripe down its middle. After they passed an unassuming gray mailbox marked Wilcox, they drove for the better part of a mile before they could see the house. Around it, the grounds heralded early spring, with the help of some expensive looking gardening. Claire let out a little squeal when she saw the house, pure white, with cream and gold gingerbread. Lou commented that the place looked as though it had been built yesterday.
“Gene says that there’s a couple of houses,” said Jim. “This must be the main house. It’s principally for entertaining guests, he said.”
They circled a wide cul-de-sac that surrounded a fountain built of seemingly loose boulders piled into a tall mound. Water poured in thin rivulets down its rough sides. Beside it sat an antique glider painted white like the house. Near it a gardener was throwing lime on the ground. He directed Jim to another house where he said Mr. Wilcox was waiting for them. Jim thanked the man and commented on the beautiful grounds.
“Thanks. We take pride in what we do. Nice to see it shows.”
A quarter mile past the mansion they found a modern house built of natural wood, blending so well into the surrounding trees and rounded boulders that Jim had a hard time estimating its size and shape.
The four travelers knocked at the door and asked the man who opened it for Mr. Wilcox. Glad to be out of the car, Kas took off her coat and handed it to him. He took it graciously and bowed. “Mr. Wilcox at your service, ma’am. Can I take the rest of your coats?”
John Wilcox was younger than Jim expected of a lawyer of his stature. Though his hair was graying, he looked doe-eyed and innocent and remarkably youthful. A moment later Gene appeared and happily introduced everyone, ending with Jim. “This is Jim. It’s his intuition and his artwork that has us here today.”
“Aha!” laughed John with raised eyebrows. “A graphic adventurer!”
Jim smiled. He liked the phrase but he wondered about this youngish looking man. His calm and self-effacing style seemed incongruous with the image of a powerful corporate lawyer.
“You’re a lawyer?” said Jim somewhat awkwardly.
Wilcox smiled. “You won’t shoot me, will you, Jim? Some would, you know. We were about to have some sandwiches and champagne,” he added. “I hope you’ll join us?”
They passed through an atrium filled with flowering vines that towered two stories up to a skylight of multicolored glass. Jim almost missed seeing the live turtles and the exotic birds caged there as Kas pulled him into the living room. It surrounded an inviting blue arm of water that connected to the larger swimming pool through a cave of natural stone. The pool was edged with large natural slabs of layered stone. To the left of the pool was a huge fireplace, and to the right a bubbling jacuzzi, large enough to accommodate six people, beckoned to Kas who stared at it longingly.
The living room was built on several different levels. A slightly elevated lounging area surrounded the fireplace, backed by a sumptuous bar. But what caught Jim’s eye was the view through the huge picture window. “I didn’t know that there were canyons in New York,” he said. “What an amazing view.”
“Thanks,” said John, “but I wouldn’t call it a canyon. It’s just looks like one from this viewpoint.
Lou seconded the motion. Then Claire spotted a man in a neighboring car she swore was Robert Redford.
Jim gave up. It was clear that his angst about the ark was a private matter, whether he wanted it to be or not. Fifteen minutes later they were in a booth at a roadside restaurant discussing the Philadelphia Eagles with a couple in the next booth.
#
The driveway to the mansion was a crisp river of macadam, wide enough to warrant a stripe down its middle. After they passed an unassuming gray mailbox marked Wilcox, they drove for the better part of a mile before they could see the house. Around it, the grounds heralded early spring, with the help of some expensive looking gardening. Claire let out a little squeal when she saw the house, pure white, with cream and gold gingerbread. Lou commented that the place looked as though it had been built yesterday.
“Gene says that there’s a couple of houses,” said Jim. “This must be the main house. It’s principally for entertaining guests, he said.”
They circled a wide cul-de-sac that surrounded a fountain built of seemingly loose boulders piled into a tall mound. Water poured in thin rivulets down its rough sides. Beside it sat an antique glider painted white like the house. Near it a gardener was throwing lime on the ground. He directed Jim to another house where he said Mr. Wilcox was waiting for them. Jim thanked the man and commented on the beautiful grounds.
“Thanks. We take pride in what we do. Nice to see it shows.”
A quarter mile past the mansion they found a modern house built of natural wood, blending so well into the surrounding trees and rounded boulders that Jim had a hard time estimating its size and shape.
The four travelers knocked at the door and asked the man who opened it for Mr. Wilcox. Glad to be out of the car, Kas took off her coat and handed it to him. He took it graciously and bowed. “Mr. Wilcox at your service, ma’am. Can I take the rest of your coats?”
John Wilcox was younger than Jim expected of a lawyer of his stature. Though his hair was graying, he looked doe-eyed and innocent and remarkably youthful. A moment later Gene appeared and happily introduced everyone, ending with Jim. “This is Jim. It’s his intuition and his artwork that has us here today.”
“Aha!” laughed John with raised eyebrows. “A graphic adventurer!”
Jim smiled. He liked the phrase but he wondered about this youngish looking man. His calm and self-effacing style seemed incongruous with the image of a powerful corporate lawyer.
“You’re a lawyer?” said Jim somewhat awkwardly.
Wilcox smiled. “You won’t shoot me, will you, Jim? Some would, you know. We were about to have some sandwiches and champagne,” he added. “I hope you’ll join us?”
They passed through an atrium filled with flowering vines that towered two stories up to a skylight of multicolored glass. Jim almost missed seeing the live turtles and the exotic birds caged there as Kas pulled him into the living room. It surrounded an inviting blue arm of water that connected to the larger swimming pool through a cave of natural stone. The pool was edged with large natural slabs of layered stone. To the left of the pool was a huge fireplace, and to the right a bubbling jacuzzi, large enough to accommodate six people, beckoned to Kas who stared at it longingly.
The living room was built on several different levels. A slightly elevated lounging area surrounded the fireplace, backed by a sumptuous bar. But what caught Jim’s eye was the view through the huge picture window. “I didn’t know that there were canyons in New York,” he said. “What an amazing view.”
“Thanks,” said John, “but I wouldn’t call it a canyon. It’s just looks like one from this viewpoint.
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