Jada called out from the other side of the room: “This has to be the largest and most uniquely gorgeous kitchen I’ve ever seen.” She was standing at the impressively sized, original woodburning stove, while looking back at the new ultra-modern appliances surrounding Jack and Warren at the opposite end.
“It is unique,” Jack agreed. “But so is the rest of the house. Come! Let me show you.”
After leaving their backpacks at the foot of the grand staircase, they wandered from room to room, appreciating all the intricate Gothic details. Jack particularly enjoyed watching Warren, who was obviously mesmerized. Being in the moving business he’d been in a lot of houses in and around the Big Apple, but nothing quite like this. Eventually after touring the entire first floor, Jack got them outside on the front porch.
“So, what do you think?” Jack asked after he’d given the two visitors time to appreciate the view of the private, isolated lake surrounded by virgin forest with the Adirondack Mountains looming in the background.
“Looks pretty damned desolate and boring to me,” Warren said with a shake of his head, pretending not to be impressed. “If I ever have a yearning for a hit of nature, which I rarely do, all I have todo is walk into Central Park. It’s a hell of a lot easier than driving all the way up here to the middle of nowhere.”
Jada playfully swatted him, which caused him to pretend to cower.
“It is gorgeous,” Jada then declared. “I had no idea New York State had such pretty scenery, to be honest. It’s like an old-fashioned postcard of a mythical, sylvan landscape.”
“Oh, wow!” Warren teased. “Listen to the English teacher showing off with ‘sylvan landscape’!”
Jada again playfully swatted Warren, making him cringe yet again.
“You’re an English teacher?” Jack questioned.
“After a fashion,” she said. “Actually, I teach the nineteenth-century English literature at Barnard.”
“Interesting,” Jack said. “Laurie will be thrilled. She’s been enamored of the nineteenth-century English novel since she was a teenager.”
“Then we certainly will have at least one thing in common,” Jada remarked happily.
“Is that the other Bennet house you mentioned?” Warren questioned while pointing across the lake.
“It is,” Jack said.
“It does look strikingly similar to this house even from this distance.”
“Apparently that was the goal,” Jack said. “Obviously a huge amount of effort was expended in their design and construction. I was told it necessitated bringing craftspeople all the way from Italy.”
“And you said it is currently occupied by militiamen from Holland?” Warren said. “That’s big-time weird. How many?”
“I was told four,” Jack said. “I met one of them who playedbasketball with us yesterday. You might meet him, too, if he comes today and you’re up for playing. He’s a nice enough fellow and a decent player but without much finesse. Curiously enough, he’s a microbiology technician in a hospital in Amsterdam, which caught me by surprise.”
“So, what are these four militiamen doing here?” Warren asked, still staring at the house across the lake.
“I don’t know exactly,” Jack said. “Supposedly they’re here to help the local Diehard Patriots by instructing them in whatever it is that far right-wing militias do. The town’s police chief described the Diehard Patriots as a group of local ne’er-do-wells whose lives had been permanently upended by the closure of the Bennet Shoe factory. Apparently they like to go out at night to practice shooting their AR-15s for fear of coming government overreach, and the Dutch fellows give them pointers.”
Warren looked at Jack and assumed a confused expression. “That’s some weird shit. Somebody should go over there and check those boys out.”
“The police chief did exactly that,” Jack said. “Right when the militia people first arrived he visited and made a point to meet them. He said they were remarkably cooperative and respectful and that their papers were in order. And they’re hardly ever seen off the grounds.”
Warren looked back across the lake at the house. “Weird shit,” he repeated.
“What about swimming in the lake?” Jada asked. “I see through the trees there’s the pool. Is the lake not good for swimming for some reason?”
“I asked the same question yesterday,” Jack said. “Quite the contrary: The lake is fine for swimming. Did you bring your swimsuit?”
“I certainly did,” Jada said.
“I was hoping you had,” Jack said. “The water is crystal clear and the temperature is just about perfect unless if you dive down eight or nine feet or more. If you do, it gets downright cold. But the surface temperature is fine. Laurie and I swam before breakfast this morning, and it was delightful. Speaking of Laurie, come! Let’s say hello.”
Waving over his shoulder for the others to follow, Jack headed over to the steps that descended down to the lawn. From there it was a short walk through the copse of young birch trees to the pool house, pool, firepit, and barbecue. Laurie, who had seen them coming, got up from her poolside chaise longue to welcome them.
After Laurie and Warren exchanged a quick embrace, Jack introduced Jada and included that she was a professor of nineteenth-century English literature. Laurie’s face lit up, and she was quick to point out that at that very moment she was rereading an old leather-bound copy ofPride and Prejudicethat she’d found in the library.
