The Madam of Maple Court. Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
“We really shouldn’t buy something just to impress people.” She listened to herself and realized how self-righteous she sounded. But they’d gone over the numbers several times and discovered that the cost of building the kind of house Vin wanted would be astronomical. And she knew that once the house was begun, he wouldn’t settle for less than the best.
“Pam, relax.” His voice took on a slightly patronizing tone. “I won’t put us into debt just to impress a bunch of folks I don’t care about, but this would really be a great deal. Think of it. Only half an hour from the city and less than ten minutes from the train station. We can throw parties, have taxis pick people up at the station and ferry them to the new place. Everyone will be green with envy.” He was talking faster now. “The builder will have to cut his price since the frontage will be severely limited by the shape of the parcels. We can probably do the whole thing for under five hundred thousand.”
Five hundred thousand dollars sounded like a fortune to her, but Vin seemed to take it all in stride. “You’ve done quite a bit of thinking about this, haven’t you,” she said. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. She didn’t really mind him weeding out the unsatisfactory houses, but she was a little annoyed that he seemed to be making these big decisions without consulting her.
“I guess I have, and it’s really ideal. I knew you wouldn’t stand in my way. You’ve never said a thing against the idea.” She looked at him and raised a dubious eyebrow. “Okay,” he continued, “I know I should have been discussing this with you, but until the last few days this house had been only a slight possibility. Now it seems it might just happen and I want to be there with a down payment and a previously arranged mortgage when it does. It’s my dream.”
So many things “might” happen. Most of the time, if she shut her mouth and just went along, the things didn’t happen and she was saved from having to put up a fuss. She pictured the property he was talking about. He’d taken her to see it when the possibility of buying it had first arisen, but that had been almost five months before and she hadn’t heard anything about it since. The area certainly was beautiful, though, tall oaks and maples interspersed with pine and hemlock. Fields of wildflowers on either side of a meandering brook. It would be quite a spot for a modest home. The land would be pricey, but they might be able to afford it if the cost of the house could be kept within reasonable limits. But could Vin rein in his desires? “It sounds fine,” she said, unwilling to dampen Vin’s high spirits, “and it might work as long as we’re careful and build something modest, maybe around two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. When will the builder know?”
“Actually, I should know about both the promotion and the house within the next few weeks.” Vin put his feet on the coffee table and held her close, seeming to sense her unease. “Relax, baby. It will all work out. When I make partner there will be a big increase in my compensation and, with a cut of the profits, we’ll be able to afford anything we want.”
Chapter
3
Three months passed and, since Vin still didn’t have his partnership, he was talking more and more about forming his own agency. Work had also begun on “the house.” Funny, Pam thought, she always thought of it in quotes. The builder had named the cul-de-sac Maple Court and had arranged six houses on pie-shaped, four-acre parcels in such a way that the frontage on the court itself was barely wider than the driveway but the land opened out in the back all the way to the stream.
At first the house had been kept modest. They’d met with a well-known local architect and discussed a three-bedroom raised ranch. She’d been delighted with the ideas the architect put forth, but Vin seemed dissatisfied. “What about something colonial, with maybe four bedrooms upstairs?”
“Sure,” the architect had said, “we can do that,” and he’d begun to sketch out a design. Plan after plan was changed and finally, as she had with house hunting, Pam let Vin meet with the architect himself. Only later did Pam find out that Vin had added bedrooms, baths, and a second family room until the final plans called for a building of almost seven thousand square feet, not including the three-car garage. There were two fireplaces, one a unique arrangement that could be opened to either the dining room or the living room and one in the master suite. There was an area set aside for a large, covered outdoor patio with a built-in grill, sink, refrigerator, and spacious cabinets. The twenty-five by fifty in-the-ground pool and some distance behind it the hot tub that seated ten were surrounded by a decorative wrought-iron fence with a locking gate to protect them from children. It would all be elaborately landscaped so that the pool would be surrounded with flowers and flowering trees. People bathing in either would barely be able to see the house.
As they looked at the final drawings together Pam was speechless. “When did all these changes happen, and why on earth do we need five bedrooms?” she asked.
“I know we haven’t got any children,” he said, and by his expression she felt he was again digging at her inability to give him a son, “but we’ll be doing lots of weekend entertaining. Folks who don’t want to go back to the city can sleep over.”
When he used the “no-children bomb” she lost her desire to rein him in, so she shut her mouth.
Vin started DePalma Advertising several months after ground was broken, and both the house and the business were going so well he pooh-poohed Pam’s suggestions that he forgo some of the amenities. In the end “the house” took the better part of six months to complete but Pam had to admit that Vin, the builder, and the architect had created something special.
The downstairs was dominated by a cathedral-ceilinged entrance hall and enormous living room with a full guest bath, a dining room that could house a table for twelve, a media room that would eventually be filled with two big-screen TVs, a game console, VCR, CD and DVD players, and the biggest speakers Pam had ever seen.
The kitchen was a wonder. Red and gray granite countertops and what seemed like acres of cabinets, a built-in range top with four ovens—one conventional, one convection, and two microwaves—and what looked like an industrial stainless-steel refrigerator that was big enough, as Pam told people, to hold several dead bodies. As she shopped for furniture Pam kept trying to get Vin to set a budget, but he assured her that they could afford anything she wanted. “Get the best,” he said. “You never know who we might want to entertain.”
Pam was usually a judicious shopper, but at Vin’s insistence she’d hired a decorator named Carlys who’d selected antique after antique for both the downstairs and the upstairs. Pam finally accepted that she could and should spend outrageous amounts on things she cared nothing about, but, she reasoned, Vin cared and that was enough for her. With Carlys’s help, the entire house looked like something out of House and Garden magazine. To Pam it was more a showplace than a home, but each time something was added Vin’s smile was her reward.
Outside, the landscaping cost a small fortune since the builder had been forced to remove several big trees. Once it was done, however, even Pam saw that it had been worth every penny. The house, set back a hundred feet from the base of the driveway, looked like it had magically grown out of a beautiful forest glade, surrounded by azaleas, rhododendrons, and lilacs, with bulbs of every description and dozens of hybrid rose bushes, enough that in addition to the lawn care service to mow and fertilize, they had to hire a separate landscaper just to tend the plants. Vin also insisted that she hire a full-time housekeeper. “You’ll be busy with committee meetings and entertaining my clients, so you won’t have time to look after such a big house.” She’d sighed and allowed herself to be steamrolled. It was always easier just to go along.
The other five houses on Maple Court were built in the same vein, large yet not ostentatious. As the families moved in, Pam became nodding acquaintances with the owners and their wives, the CFO of a major clothing manufacturer, the vice president of a brokerage firm, a very high-priced divorce attorney, and the architect who’d done most of the work on the DePalma house. “You see, even he thinks it’s a good investment.” Eventually the builder even decided to keep one parcel for himself but hadn’t built on it yet.
“What