visited?”
“I’ve seen most of the world. I have more stamps in my passport than the post office.”
She giggled. “Really? Have you been to Paris?”
“Several times.”
“Is it as beautiful as I imagine it to be?”
“Depends on what you consider beautiful. Paris is old, as are a lot of its buildings. So if your thing is history, then Paris is the place for you. Although, I must admit that there’s nothing as breathtaking as the Paris skyline at night.”
“That sounds incredible. I’ve always wanted to go there but I haven’t had the chance. I might not be able to see the sights but I just want to be there to hear the sounds and experience the smells, taste the food.”
“Why haven’t you traveled?”
She shrugged. “It’s always something. I lost my family and my sight in a really bad car accident. I was nineteen at the time and I had so many plans. I wanted to somehow make a living playing music. The future was mine. And then in a blink of an eye my world was shattered. I understandably went through a lot of counseling and rehabilitation. By the time I felt like I could live life again, I realized I didn’t want to live in my parents’ house without them, so I sold it and with the money from that sale combined with the settlement from the insurance company I bought the old boarding house. It was a major fixer upper but I didn’t mind. I hired some contractors to get it up to code. But since it’s an old house it requires a lot of love. One year the furnace stopped working, and another time I needed to replace the hot water heater, and once we got hit hard by a hurricane.”
“Sounds like a money pit.”
Sydney knew it must seem like a burden to someone else but she adored this house. When she and her sister were kids, they used to ride their bikes down the dirt path to this abandoned house. While Tara thought the house was icky and haunted as most of the local children did, Sydney had seen the character in the old structure. She imagined what it would look like in its glory. Granted she couldn’t see all the work that had been put in to it, but she knew it was beautiful.
“It’s a treasure. It’s my dream house. I loved it when I saw it as a kid and love it even more as an adult. I know this sounds silly, but sometimes I like to walk against the walls just to run my fingers along the crown molding. I also like that my house has a story to tell. It was built shortly after the Civil War by a wealthy family from the North. The locals didn’t take too kindly to these carpetbaggers coming to their town and flaunting their wealth, particularly when everyone around them were still suffering from the devastation of war. So the townspeople ran them out. Shortly afterward, the house was bought by a Scottish man who turned it into a house of ill repute.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it was a part of a major scandal. Around the fifties the mayor was caught in the house with his mistress. Shortly afterwards the operation was shut down.”
“That’s quite a story.”
“It is. You can’t find that with all these modern monstrosities that they build now. They have no soul.” She laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m probably boring you.”
“Not at all. I find this fascinating. You mentioned that you wanted to play music for a living at one point. I notice a piano in the sitting room. Do you play?
“Yes. I usually play when one of the residents requests it but for the most part I play keyboards at a bar a couple weekends a month. It doesn’t pay much but I do it because I love it.”
“I’d love to hear you play sometimes.”
“You’re on. I love the classics but my favorite is jazz and modern. I have to admit that when I start playing I can get carried away. I don’t just play the piano though. I’m proficient with the guitar and clarinet as well. ” She broke off with a laugh. “Once again I feel like I’m talking too much.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Even still, I’ve dominated
“I’ve seen most of the world. I have more stamps in my passport than the post office.”
She giggled. “Really? Have you been to Paris?”
“Several times.”
“Is it as beautiful as I imagine it to be?”
“Depends on what you consider beautiful. Paris is old, as are a lot of its buildings. So if your thing is history, then Paris is the place for you. Although, I must admit that there’s nothing as breathtaking as the Paris skyline at night.”
“That sounds incredible. I’ve always wanted to go there but I haven’t had the chance. I might not be able to see the sights but I just want to be there to hear the sounds and experience the smells, taste the food.”
“Why haven’t you traveled?”
She shrugged. “It’s always something. I lost my family and my sight in a really bad car accident. I was nineteen at the time and I had so many plans. I wanted to somehow make a living playing music. The future was mine. And then in a blink of an eye my world was shattered. I understandably went through a lot of counseling and rehabilitation. By the time I felt like I could live life again, I realized I didn’t want to live in my parents’ house without them, so I sold it and with the money from that sale combined with the settlement from the insurance company I bought the old boarding house. It was a major fixer upper but I didn’t mind. I hired some contractors to get it up to code. But since it’s an old house it requires a lot of love. One year the furnace stopped working, and another time I needed to replace the hot water heater, and once we got hit hard by a hurricane.”
“Sounds like a money pit.”
Sydney knew it must seem like a burden to someone else but she adored this house. When she and her sister were kids, they used to ride their bikes down the dirt path to this abandoned house. While Tara thought the house was icky and haunted as most of the local children did, Sydney had seen the character in the old structure. She imagined what it would look like in its glory. Granted she couldn’t see all the work that had been put in to it, but she knew it was beautiful.
“It’s a treasure. It’s my dream house. I loved it when I saw it as a kid and love it even more as an adult. I know this sounds silly, but sometimes I like to walk against the walls just to run my fingers along the crown molding. I also like that my house has a story to tell. It was built shortly after the Civil War by a wealthy family from the North. The locals didn’t take too kindly to these carpetbaggers coming to their town and flaunting their wealth, particularly when everyone around them were still suffering from the devastation of war. So the townspeople ran them out. Shortly afterward, the house was bought by a Scottish man who turned it into a house of ill repute.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it was a part of a major scandal. Around the fifties the mayor was caught in the house with his mistress. Shortly afterwards the operation was shut down.”
“That’s quite a story.”
“It is. You can’t find that with all these modern monstrosities that they build now. They have no soul.” She laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m probably boring you.”
“Not at all. I find this fascinating. You mentioned that you wanted to play music for a living at one point. I notice a piano in the sitting room. Do you play?
“Yes. I usually play when one of the residents requests it but for the most part I play keyboards at a bar a couple weekends a month. It doesn’t pay much but I do it because I love it.”
“I’d love to hear you play sometimes.”
“You’re on. I love the classics but my favorite is jazz and modern. I have to admit that when I start playing I can get carried away. I don’t just play the piano though. I’m proficient with the guitar and clarinet as well. ” She broke off with a laugh. “Once again I feel like I’m talking too much.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Even still, I’ve dominated
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