Page 11 of Beyond the Hedge Maze

His chest was going to cave in. He missed her. He hated him.

His father’s shoulders fell in defeat, and Jesse quickly brushed off the feeling of guilt. “I see our bags. I’ll be right back.”

Minutes later, they had their bags and were seated in the back of a black town car. As the car pulled out of the airport parking garage, Jesse dug around his backpack, searching for his headphones and MP3 player. Their driver had greeted them by enthusiastically waving a laminated sheet of paper with his father’s name on it, and he was still recovering from the embarrassment.

Jesse was about to put his earbuds in when he realized they were going the wrong direction on the M4. “We’re not going into the city?”

Typing away on his phone, his father’s attention was already onto the next task. “No. Gloucestershire. Appraisal of a family estate.”

It was the first good news he had heard since their trip started. Jesse was no stranger to the UK. His mother’s family owned and ran Emerson Enterprises, a financial and estate planning business that operated between Chicago and London, and the majority of her extended family lived in England. Nearly every year for as long as he could remember, he had made the trek across the Atlantic for one reason or another.

But he hated London.

London was simply Chicago without baseball and deep dish, and with more obnoxious tourists. At least in Chicago you could walk down the sidewalk without being elbowed by a pushy tour guide waving a flag.

The English countryside was something altogether different. He grew up alongside Pooh and Piglet with their adventures, and had stolen carrots from Mr. McGregor’s garden with Peter Rabbit. He had so many memories of his mom making each character come to life.

He was far too old now for bedtime stories, but what he wouldn’t give to hear just one more from her.

Jesse swallowed back tears as he thought about her again. He wouldn’t cry. Not here, not in this car stuck next to his father.

His father shoved his phone in the inside breast pocket of his jacket and angled his body towards his son. “We’ll be spending a lot of time onsite. I was told there’s a boy your age you could play with.”

Jesse scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m fifteen, I’m not a child. I don’t need someone to play with.”

“Of course not, that’s not—” he exhaled. “I wasn’t calling you a child. I simply meant that you wouldn’t be by yourself. I’m not entirely sure how long we’ll be here.”

“I don’t understand why you had to take this account. There’s plenty of other people that work in, you know, this country, who could have done it. Why isn’t this someone else’s problem?” He crossed his arms over his Cubs baseball t-shirt and slouched further in his seat. When he had put it on that morning, his father had tried to insist that he wear something more refined, but Jesse’s stubbornness won out in the end. Their cab had already been waiting to take them to O’Hare.

Jesse’s bratty behavior wasn’t rewarded with a response, his father taking his phone back out of his pocket to continue his important business. Jesse retaliated by finally putting in his headphones and turning up his music as loud as it would go.

After an excruciating two hours, the car slowed, turning onto a gravel drive. Dust kicked up in their wake, and the atmosphere shifted as they got closer to their final destination.

The drive onto the estate wound through acres of rolling hills peppered with centuries old English oak. In the distance, wheat fields stretched along the horizon creating a sun-kissed look. The openness of the landscape was refreshing after being cooped up in the city for so long.

The car lumbered over a hill, revealing an imposing stone mansion at the foot of the drive. Jesse leaned forward in his seat, trying to see out of the front windshield to get a better view.

“Holy shit, where are we?” Jesse mumbled under his breath, shoving his MP3 player and headphones in his backpack.

“Language. We’re at Chapman House, which is owned by the Catesby family. I expect you to be on your best behavior, this is a huge opportunity for the company.”

He ignored the business spiel, singularly focused on the building that loomed ahead. “House? It’s a fucking palace!”

“Jesse! Language!”

The car skidded as it slowed, the back wheels turning over against the small gravel rocks, and Jesse was out of his seat before it completely came to a stop. Stumbling onto the gravel, his eyes traveled upwards, neck bent back as far as it could go to try and see the top of the house as he greedily took in the sight in front of him.

The house, although Jesse couldn’t understand how house was even the appropriate term for it, was three stories tall, and built of limestone that had darkened and discolored slightly with age. The length of the home extended far enough that Jesse wasn’t able to see either end when facing the front.

The roof was flat in the center until it reached the wings of the house, each one punctuated by what Jesse thought resembled miniature square Greek temples—pocket sized Parthenons that held statues, or bells, or other unseen treasures. Fleur-de-lis, roses, tiny winged creatures, and Latin words adorned the limestone, creating additional texture and embellishments. His eyes scanned greedily over the building, every inch revealing something new to look at.

The front door was easily ten feet tall, and sat upon a row of narrow stairs bisected by larger versions of the columns that ornamented the roof. Jesse watched as it creaked open, and a man in his mid-sixties with greying hair, wearing a pair of slacks and a neat, cream-colored cardigan over a white collared shirt, exited behind an excited golden retriever. The dog dashed down the stairs and went straight to Jesse, their tail wagging happily as they licked all over his open palms.

“Sally! Sit!” the older man commanded, and the dog stopped, sitting obediently at Jesse’s feet. Jesse didn’t mind the affection, he’d always wanted a pet. He crouched to meet the dog at eye level, rubbing her ears.

The man caught up to his companion and went to greet Jesse’s father. “You must be Luis, you’ve come highly recommended by the chaps at Emerson. Welcome to Chapman House.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Catesby, I’m happy to be here. Please let me introduce my son, Jesse.”