Cameron’s eyes widen in horror and I break into a stupid smile. The foyer is grand and leads onto a huge family room, and the stairs are up in front. It’s bad… like really bad. The floorboards are all caving in and the walls are all bowed. In the middle of the family room, it looks as though a part of the ceiling has fallen and crashed onto the floor. Luckily, there’s no furniture. It’s empty apart from the plasterboard everywhere.
Cameron takes Owen from me immediately. “I don’t think this is safe to go farther into,” he whispers.
I walk in and around through the family room. There’s a formal dining room and another room-I’m not sure what this is. The kitchen is at the back and I smile broadly. It’s bright green and horrible. I imagine Gloria back in her day cooking in here. Another three rooms are over to the left behind the staircase, although I have no idea what they would have been used for.
“It’s big.” I frown.
Cameron follows me in silence with Owen on his hip.
“This is sick,” Owen calls.
“Yes, Owen, this is sick,” Cameron mutters dryly. “This is one of those vomit-inducing, sick places. It smells old and musty.”
I walk over to the stairs. “I wonder what’s upstairs…”
“Ashley, I don’t think the stairs are safe,” Cameron calls. “Look, one is missing.”
The second step is missing the timber and I jump over it, taking them two at a time until I find a grand hallway, six bedrooms, and a broken-down bathroom. The roof obviously has a leak because there are brown stains that have marked the walls in the hall. The carpet is threadbare, and you can see the floorboards through it.
I walk into the master bedroom and look through the window out onto the beautiful meadows below, where I see a large, blue-stone barn out the back. “Cameron come up here. You have got to see this,” I call excitedly.
“I don’t think I want to,” he calls.
I hear him and Owen slowly make their way up the stairs, looking through the house before they come and find me in the master suite.
I smile as I stare out the window. “Look…” I point excitedly.
Cameron peers down at the barn and tries to force a smile. “The land is nice,” he murmurs. He looks around. “I think a bulldozer is the best thing for the house, though.”
I smile. “Are you kidding me? No way,” I whisper.
He frowns.
“We have to fix this house up. Bring it back to its former glory like Gloria and her husband had it.” I smile, filled with hope.
He shakes his head. “Ash, no building company would take this on. The job is too big.”
I peer through the window and grin. “No, Cam, we’re going to do everything ourselves.”
He looks at me blankly.
“Can you imagine the fun we would have? I want us to do this house up ourselves. Just me, you, and Owen.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He looks around in disgust. “I know nothing about anything like that.”
I smile and wrap my arms around him and Owen. “Oh, this is just perfect.”
He scowls as he looks around. “Ashley…” He stops himself as his eyes roam the room. “I’m sorry to say, but this house is appalling.”
“No. It’s the opposite, Cam; it’s so beautiful.” I smile as I hold my arms out wide. “Can you imagine how amazing we could make this house?”
He turns up his nose. “You have a perfect house in L. A. to call your own.”
“I don’t want a perfect house, Cam. I want one that I have to work for. One that I can bring back to life myself.”
Cameron’s eyes widen in horror. “No amount of renovating can fix this, Ash. I’m sorry. I know you were excited.”
I throw my hands in the air. “I’m thrilled.”
“With this?” He shakes his head. “Ash…” He puts Owen down and walks over to the door. When he pushes it back it falls from its hinges and drops with a loud crash, and he jumps back out of the way. “This place is so damn dangerous,” he cries.
Owen and I burst out laughing.
“You are such a snob.” I smile as I stare back out the window. “Come on, let’s go look at the barn.” I take off downstairs with them following me, and we walk out the back. About two-hundred meters from the house and across a green lush paddock sits the large, blue-stone barn. It’s locked with a big rusty padlock. “Where are the keys?” I ask.
Cameron frowns and digs them out of his pocket. He slowly begins to try all the keys, and when the last one works he slowly opens the doors.
The roof is open with big, dark, timber rafters, while the floor is stone. “Oh, this is amazing,” I gasp.
Cameron looks around the barn, deadpan. “This place is woeful.”
I laugh. “Oh, let’s go back to town, buy some camping supplies, and stay here tonight.” I smile hopefully.
“Yes!” Owen squeals.
“Let’s not,” Cameron mutters. “You couldn’t pay me enough to stay out here. God knows what could happen.” He kicks a rock that’s in front of his feet as he looks around. “This is not a fucking episode of the Amityville Horror House, you know.”
I laugh and put my hand over my mouth as I look around. He really is freaking out here.
“Dad…” Owen corrects him.
“Owen!” Cameron snaps as he loses his last inch of patience. “I am a grown man and I can swear when I want to. You are the only one not allowed to swear around here. Stop correcting me.”
Owen widens his eyes at me. “Jeez,” he whispers under his breath.
“Can we stay the night, Cam?” I smile hopefully.
“Absolutely not,” he replies as he leaves the barn and starts to walk back to the house.
“Why not?” I call.
He turns to face me and counts on his fingers. “Where do I start, Ashley? There’s no power, no running water, no bathroom. Things are falling off the hinges. This place is a death trap!”
I smile and shrug. “So?”
His eyes widen. “This is horrible. I can’t stay here, and I won’t have you two stay here, either.” He turns to walk back to the front. “This is worse than third-world.”
“Well, I’m coming back here next weekend,” I call.
“Great,” he shouts back as he opens the door to our car. “You do that while Owen and I arrange our wedding in L. A.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s not like we have nothing to do back home or anything.” He shakes his head in disgust.
“Okay.” I smile as I call after him. I look around the house once more before I lock it up and climb into the car.
Cameron looks at me blankly.
I smile at the big old house. “See you next weekend, Pemberley,” I call.
“Bye,” Owen cries.
“Good riddance,” Cameron mutters as he starts the car. “Let’s go find some coffee.”
“And out here is where we serve cocktails at dusk,” the snooty wedding planner says with her plum-in-mouth accent.
“Ah, yes, lovely.” Cameron smiles enthusiastically as he looks around.
I walk behind them both like a petulant child. The gardens are perfect. The whole thing is perfect. But it’s Sunday and we’re now at the sixth wedding reception venue of the day.
They’re snobby, snooty, pretentious, and wanky… even if they’re all perfectly beautiful.
Cameron turns and holds his hand out to me, and I take it in mine. “This one is nice, Bloss.” He smiles hopefully.
“Yeah.” I sigh, unimpressed as I look around.
“What’s wrong with this one?” Cameron whispers, sensing my disapproval.
I shrug and look around. “Nothing, it’s fine.”
“Fine?” Cam repeats as he rolls his eyes. “This is not fine. This is amazing.”
I sigh. “If you say so.”
“And out here is where the dancing in the marquee will take place after the formal dinner.” She points to the trees. “The trees come alive at night with the fairy lights. It’s so romantic and a real sight to behold,” she purrs as she keeps walking up a fancy garden path to show us something else.
I scowl. “A real sight to behold?” I mouth behind her back.
Cameron smirks and slaps my ass. “Stop it. Will you behave yourself?” he whispers.
We come to a circular private clearing with a bar, table, and chairs sitting in the center of it. “And over here we have the cigar bar.” She smiles.
Cameron’s eyes light up. “Cigar bar? Oh, I like that.”
“We have over two-hundred different types of cigars that your guests may pick from, as well as specialty spirits which will be exclusive to your honored guests.”
I roll my eyes. I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous.
She turns to show us something else down another path.
“Can we go?” I whisper.
“No,” Cameron whispers back. “I like this place.”
“I’m not getting married here.”
“Why not?”
“I hate it.”
“Fucking pick somewhere then, Ashley,” he whispers with a fake smile plastered on his face. “There’s been nothing wrong with any of the places I’ve taken you today. If this place doesn’t excite you, I have no idea where will.”
“I would rather be married in a registry office than in any of these wanky places you’ve brought me to.”
He takes my hand and smiles as the lady turns to see what’s taking us so long. She turns back to the front.
“Well…” Cameron whispers. “Owen and I want a nice wedding day. That doesn’t involve a registry office.”
I roll my eyes and exhale loudly. “You just pick somewhere then.”
He frowns. “Why are you being difficult?”
“Why are you being a snob?”
His face falls. “Where do you want to get married? Fucking McDonald’s?”
“It’s better than this crap!” I snap. “I know Owen would definitely like McDonald’s better, too.”
Cameron rolls his eyes and walks forward to listen to the next lot of drivel about how exquisite this place is.
I keep trudging behind them, hating every word that comes out of her mouth.
Who knew picking a wedding venue would be so painful?
It’s Tuesday afternoon. I’m just leaving work, walking through the parking lot toward my car, when my phone rings.
“Hello, Ashley, this is Marissa,” the kind voice says through an obvious smile.
“Hi, Marissa.” I smile. Marissa is one of Cameron’s PAs. She goes into surgery with him.
“Dr. Stanton has just asked me to call you to let you know that his back is playing up and he has a massage therapist coming to the house tonight at eight, so he’ll be having the massage in his office.”
I frown. “Oh.”
“He just wanted me to call ahead in case the therapist gets there a few minutes before he does.” Cameron gets a really tight back from being hunched over in surgery for so long, but he usually goes to the massage therapy place on a Friday afternoon. It must be really acting up.
“Yes, that’s fine, thanks for the warning.” I laugh. “Actually, that’s a great idea. Can you ask Cameron if he can book me in one, too, after him, please?” I ask. My back has been as tight as all hell this week, too.
“Yes, of course. Goodbye.”