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The One
The One
“Here we are!” Emilia sang as the car turned around the last bend of the driveway and an enormous mansion came into sight. Oliver gasped; it was magnificent, a proud Tudor house with black timbers crisscrossing the gleaming whitewash walls.
“Emilia,” he murmured. “This is amazing…wherever did you find it?”
Emilia parked in front of the house. “A friend told me about it, and I know you love Tudor houses!”
“Oh yes,” Oliver said quietly as they crossed the driveway to the large porch. He gazed at the gently swinging porch swing and the beautiful dark wood composing the porch while Emilia fumbled with the key ring.
“Ah ha! There you are!” she said as she finally located the correct key and fitted it in. The large, oak door squeaked in protest as Emilia pushed it open and Oliver followed her inside.
Oliver put his hands in his pockets as he stared up at the wide stairs curving up the left side of the grand façade to a wide balustrade. Emilia checked her hair in one of the tall mirrors on both walls and then touched Oliver’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s check out the kitchen.”
Oliver laughed, “That’s the only part of any house you care about.” Emilia ignored him and quickly disappeared down one of the doors at the end of the grand façade. Oliver strolled slowly after, examining each room he passed through. Somewhere up ahead he heard Emilia answer her phone loudly:
“Hello? Oh, hey Jennifer! Yeah, we’re here! I think he’s really going to like this one…” Leisurely navigating the old-fashioned furniture and tall bookcases covered with books, Oliver was surprised to suddenly find himself in the kitchen. He stopped and watched Emilia’s silhouette flicker as she talked in front of a large window with the sun shining through it, making the copper pots and pans hanging from the ceiling gleam. Oliver ran his fingers across the rough stonework wall, and gently tapped one of the pots with a dim clang.
Emilia hung up. “Well, what do you think?”
Oliver nodded slowly, “I think I really like it…let’s check out the back.” Emilia nodded and guided Oliver past the large kitchen island, through a stable-style door, and into a large living room with a wide sliding-glass door leading out to the back porch. They stepped off the porch and walked across the close-cut lawn dotted with random hedges trimmed into squares, rectangles, and stars.
Emilia ran up to one of the hedges and stroked the bristly leaves, “Look! We can trim the hedges into all sorts of shapes! And there’s the stables!” Oliver followed her finger to the sprawling, Tudor stables on their right. As he looked, a handsome, copper horse stuck its head over its door and nickered at them. They walked over and patted the horse’s nose.
Emilia turned to Oliver. “Come on, Oliver, this place has everything. You’ve said “no” to five houses already. Let’s just move into something and give it a chance.”
Oliver smiled as the horse whuffed in his hand. He turned to Emilia. “What are we waiting for?”
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