really not as bad as all that, even with Castle Peak. That's the name of the cliff with the dark history."
"Pyncheon House?" Leah asked.
"From The House of the Seven Gables. I'm surprised you haven't read it. It's kind of a supernatural horror story. And Lovecraft cited Hawthorne as an influential writer of 'weird fiction.' It's likely he used the descriptions of the Pyncheon house for his short stories."
"Really? I'll have to put that on my reading list."
Isabella stopped the van in the old brick driveway. "Nora, are you really sure about this? I mean, I understand needing a break and all, but the whole summer?"
"I know it's a long time. But we've been working really hard and I just need a break to recharge. Don't tell me you guys haven't thought some thing's been off lately?"
The other three nodded.
"I used to spend summers with Great-aunt Victoria and Great-uncle William. Castle Hill isn't actually scary. There is a family graveyard, but it's not creepy either."
"How is that not creepy?" Maryann asked.
"Creepy is just relative, right? I liked visiting Great-aunt Victoria and Great-uncle William. They invited all the kids over for the summers. We had picnics and would go swimming at Castle Hill Bay. We'd play hide and seek in the graveyard and try to scare each other. We broke so much stuff too, but they didn't care. Stuff was just stuff. It was nice. And I haven't seen Great-aunt Victoria since Great-uncle William died. Mom and Granddad are a little worried about her since that hip surgery. So it just makes sense for me to visit for awhile."
"We understand all that," Maryann said, "But what are you going to do here? Does your great-aunt even have Internet? Or a TV? Is there a movie theater in Fletcher's Cove?"
"I can always go into Bangor if I want."
"Bangor," Leah repeated with a giggle.
Nora rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we can't just sit here. Great-aunt Victoria will start to worry. She's probably got some kind of tea planned for us. She's very old-fashioned in some ways."
They got out of the van and unloaded Nora's luggage. She knocked on the claw-shaped knocker which seemed to make almost no noise although they guessed the sound was very loud inside the house.
In a minute the door was opened by a woman in her sixties wearing casual clothes that had probably never really been in fashion and thick glasses. "Can I help you?" she asked with strong Maine accent.
"Hi Mrs. Amos. I'm Nora Jackson, remember?"
"Oh, right! Nora! Well, it's been a few years since you were up this way. How nice of you to bring all your friends. Go on into the drawing room. Mrs. Huxley will be down in a few minutes. She's still recovering from the hip surgery, you know, but she refuses to let me help too much. I'll get tea ready. Just leave the luggage in the foyer; we'll get it upstairs in a bit." The woman bustled them into the house and then disappeared presumably to the kitchen.
"Mrs. Amos has been the housekeeper forever, I think. I don't remember a time when she wasn't the housekeeper. Mr. Amos is the groundskeeper, or at least he was. I think he might have thrown out his back a few years ago," Nora explained.
"How old is this house?" Maryann asked, looking at the arches and marble tiling in the foyer.
"Built in the 1700s, I think. Maybe older than that. Great-aunt Victoria's family has been here since the first European settlers came to the area."
"It's like a museum," Leah commented. "Who even has a drawing room anymore anyway?"
"Old houses do," Nora replied. "Come on, the drawing room is this way," she said, and led them to a room that was furnished with antique-looking couches, tables, china cabinets, and a large, ornate fireplace. The only thing missing that they expected were portraits of long-dead ancestors. In a touch of modernism the walls were adorned with high-quality copies of famous paintings although the frames were large and ornate.
"Can we sit on this? I don't want to ruin it," Maryann said, looking at a red plush couch.
"Ruin it? Sharon and I used to jump on it. Don't be fooled by the look of it; most of it is not really that old," Nora answered.
They took seats and in a few minutes Mrs. Amos set a silver tea set down in front of them.
"Real silver?" Leah asked.
"Been in the family for generations," Mrs. Amos said with pride. "Despite some pretty close calls," she said with a look at Nora. Then she left the room.
In another few minutes a tiny old woman in her eighties walked into the room. She was wearing a stiff navy suit, had glasses on a gold chain around her neck, and was using a handsome wooden cane to get around. Her gray hair was pulled back in a hard bun but her blue eyes were still sharp. "Nora!" she said.
"Aunt Victoria!" she replied, and hugged the old woman.
"It's so nice of you to visit me. Are these your friends in your band?" she asked, putting on the glasses and peering through them.
The other three were visibly surprised at the sight of the old lady.
"This is Isabella Nesmith, Leah Ramirez, and Maryann Blake," Nora said. "And this is my great-aunt Victoria Huxley."
Victoria walked up to them and shook their hands in a surprisingly strong grip. "Dear girl, it is so easy to read your expression," she said to Maryann. "You're surprised I'm a white woman?"
"I, er, well, um..."
She sort of smiled. "I married into Nora's family. My dear late William, her great-uncle, is her grandfather's brother. Our story was not dissimilar to the classic film, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, although my family was not nearly so accepting as the Draytons. Please, sit down. Let's have some tea and chat and get to know each other a little bit before you depart."
Tea was quite pleasant. Mrs. Amos was a good cook and Victoria didn't mind talking about how she got together with Nora's great-uncle, William Huxley, during the 1950s. After tea, the band helped Nora get her luggage up the stairs to one of the many rooms. Nora promised to keep in touch, they said their good-byes, and drove away.
"They seem like nice young ladies," Victoria said as the van disappeared down the hill. "They are going to miss you."
"I know. But life on the road is really hard. I just need a break," Nora said.
"Your parents are still dissatisfied with your life choices?"
She nodded. "Sharon graduated from Bryn Mawr at the top of her class and is doing just as well at Columbia Law. I can't deal with their disappointment."
"This is something I understand quite well."
"I know. That's why I'm glad you're letting me stay so long."
"It's nice to have family around, especially since William passed. I love Mrs. Amos, and she's been so good, but she's starting to have some problems getting around. Mr. Amos is still having back issues. It'll be nice to have some youth around the place. But don't worry, my dear, I promise you there will be more to do than look after an old lady and make small talk with her busybody book club," Victoria said. She gazed across the grounds. "Come on; let's take a walk to Castle Peak. Mrs. Amos fusses so over my hip and worries I'll somehow fall."
Nora walked with her great-aunt around the huge house and across the grounds in the back. The land climbed at a gentle slope and the sounds of the ocean became more pronounced. The land abruptly terminated at a broad cliff. Below were a small, clean beach and a mini-bay that calmed some of the waves. The two women sat down on a weathered stone bench that had clearly been installed for the sole purpose of watching the ocean.
"Ah, that's nice," Victoria said. "Such a lovely summer day today."
"I've missed the sound of the ocean," Nora said.
"Poor child. It's been such a great comfort to me. I've grown up with this sound and I can't imagine doing without for long."
Nearly half an hour passed in thoughtful silence.
"We should get back in," Victoria said. "There is a change in the waves."
"Is that bad? Is there a storm coming?" Nora asked.
"Change may be for good or
ill but right now I don't know. We'll see. But I think this may be quite an interesting summer."
"I think I would be okay with an uninteresting summer," Nora replied.
For the first week, it looked like Nora would get her wish. She signed up for classes at the University of Maine at Augusta‘s Bangor campus. When she wasn't in classes, she spent most of her time helping Mr. Amos pulling weeds around the grounds. She also helped Mrs. Amos open up some of the rooms in the mostly unused east wing and clean and generally refresh them. Her aunt did have a cable modem, but Nora tried to ignore that as much as she could except of course for fan mail. The house had a library, so when she got bored, she read actual paper books.
"I have a wonderful idea," Victoria said at breakfast. "I'm going to throw a ball. Isn't that delightfully old-fashioned?"
"Sure," Nora agreed. "But it's going to be a lot of work. Are you sure you're up for that?"
"I'll be fine. People seem to think I'm simply wasting away up here. I'll show them that is not the case. You and Mrs. Amos have done so much work cleaning up the east wing already that it won't be too much trouble to get the ballroom ship-shape."
"Yes, but about the food? Or invitations? Or any of that?"
Victoria smiled. "Don't worry. I know how to plan a party. I'll invite everyone, although I am afraid we may be short people your age. But perhaps some of the other old people like me will have visiting young relatives. It is the tourist season after all."
"It'll be fine. Is this going to be formal?"
"Well, I hope so but