The Marine Next Door

Chapter 3

Julian arrived at the address given to him when he had called about the ad for a rental he’d found on the Internet. He was puzzled. Something must be wrong, he thought as he looked at the huge Tudor style house and checked the address again. If this is what’s for rent, I’ll never be able to afford it.

He got out of the car and started up the long, sweeping walk to the front door. Halfway there he decided it really must be a mistake, and started back to the car. He would call again and get the right address.

A voice called to him. “Mr. Reynolds?”

He turned. A woman had opened the front door.

“Yes,” he replied, turning and retracing his steps back toward the house. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit confused. I hadn’t expected the house to be this big.”

The woman laughed. It was a kindly laugh. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I haven’t placed an ad in such a long time. I should have been more explicit. It’s the carriage house that’s for rent.” She pointed in the direction of a small cottage-like house across the drive, at the opposite end of the big house from where they stood.

“Of course,” Julian said. “I feel a bit silly, Mrs…?”

“Butler, Marilyn Butler. You probably don’t remember me. Our son, Tate, was one of your students at Mayfair High. But then you had so many students. Why should you.”

“But I do. He was one of my best students. He showed such promise. Yes, I remember Tate very well.”

And what gay man wouldn’t. Tate Butler had been in Julian’s British Literature class. Not only was he an exceptionally bright student, but an extraordinary example of male anatomy. Handsome and well-built, Tate was a varsity athlete: football player, as well as captain of the diving team. He had also been president of the senior class. The total package. Voted most likely to succeed by his classmates.

“How’s he doing? It’s been…let’s see…four years since I had him in class. He was off to play football for Penn State wasn’t he?”

“He’s doing…all right,” she said but didn’t elaborate. There was hesitancy in her voice. “Come in. I’ll get the key and show you the house.” Mrs. Butler smiled. However, it was an uncertain smile. Julian wished he hadn’t gushed so much over Tate, as clearly there was something regarding her son that was making Mrs. Butler sad.

Julian followed the woman into the entry hall. He looked around at the high vaulted ceiling. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw someone in a wheelchair disappear around a corner in the room off the hall.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she said and left.

Julian walked to the door of the room in which he thought he had seen someone. It was empty.

There was a table near the doorway. On it were several family photographs. Among them was one of a handsome, young man in a Marine dress uniform. Julian recognized Tate at once. He felt a thrill of excitement run through him. Tate as a Marine was as handsome as Julian remembered him when he was a student, maybe more so. Now, as then, however, he forced aside any feeling of attraction for the young man.

Mrs. Butler returned. “Here it is,” she said, handing Julian the key.

“You have a lovely home,” he said.

“Thank you. Much too big now that Frank is gone.”

“Mr. Butler?”

“Yes, he died last year. A stroke.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Julian said.

“Well, let’s get to showing you the carriage house, shall we?”

It was evident Mrs. Butler wasn’t going to share more about either her late husband or Tate.

They walked out the door and along a stone path that ran the entire length of the front of the house. It was three stories tall and had three gables. Indeed much too big a house for a widow and—and whomever was in that wheelchair.

Julian’s musings were interrupted by Mrs. Butler asking, “Will you be teaching at the high school again?”

“No,” Julian replied. “The only opening they had was at Laughton Middle School. I’ll be teaching Language Arts, sixth grade.”

“They’ll be lucky to have you. You were a wonderful teacher. Tate had such good things to say about you. Well, here we are.”

Just across the drive from a screened in sun porch which jutted out from the third section of the main house, was the carriage house Julian had come to see. He and Mrs. Butler crossed the drive, and Julian unlocked the door.

It was cool and dark inside. Mrs. Butler went to the windows and pulled back the drapes. The light revealed a well-furnished room: a sofa, two overstuffed chairs, a desk, end tables, and coffee table. A small flat screen TV was mounted on the wall.

“It’s completely furnished but if you’d rather, we can store all this and you—”

“No, this is just perfect,” Julian interrupted her. He was glad he wouldn’t have to go back to Virgil and haggle over furniture. “I’ll just have my clothes, computer, and my cat. It is all right to bring her, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Butler said with a smile. “We’re very cat friendly. Let me show you the rest of the house. Oh, by the way, we have—what do you call it when you can connect your computer to the Internet?”

“Wi-Fi,” Julian offered.

“Yes, that’s it,” she replied as she began the tour.

The rest of the house consisted of a bedroom, bath, well-equipped kitchen, and a small laundry area just inside the back door, which also housed the furnace and water heater. When they finished the tour Julian said, “I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful,” Mrs. Butler replied. “When will you be moving in?”

“Tonight, if it’s okay. I’m staying at the Mayfair Inn. So, it’s just some of my clothes and my computer for now. I’ll get the rest of my things, and Patch—that’s the cat, next weekend.”

“That would be lovely. I’ll have my attorney draw up the lease and you can come up to the house anytime to sign it. I hope you’ll be very happy here.”

“I’m sure I will,” Julian said.

They shook hands and Mrs. Butler started to leave. She turned back and said, “There’s a pool. Please feel free to use it. It’s just behind the house.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Butler made her way back to the main house.

Julian looked around the room, then sat down, kicked off his shoes, and sighed. “Home sweet home. No fights, no fuss, no drama.”

* * * *

Julian spent the next few days getting settled in. He went shopping for food and toiletries, and stopped in at the school to sign his contract. While there he got his room assignment. So it was back to the store to pick up things to decorate it and put up bulletin boards. He met with the principal and several of his fellow teachers. He called Virgil to set up a time on Saturday to come to the city to get the rest of his things and Patch. Luckily Virgil didn’t answer so Julian left a message and was spared the pain of having to deal with him. Hopefully he wouldn’t be there when Julian arrived.

On several occasions during his comings and goings to the carriage house he thought he saw someone in the sunroom across the drive, looking at him. But when Julian moved to get a better look, whoever it was had vanished. Julian decided maybe it was his eyes playing a trick on him or it was merely a shadow.

Midweek he got the dreaded call from Craig about the party. “Hello, sweetie.”

Julian rolled his eyes.

Craig continued. “Well, everything is set up. Stephen’s being a pain in the ass as usual, but the party is going to be this Friday. Will that work for you?”

“Yes,” Julian said, thinking that if it was all set, wasn’t it a little late to be asking the supposed guest of honor if he was free? He was tempted to tell Craig he’d made arrangements to pick up his stuff in New York, but figured that would send Craig into an apoplectic collapse.

“Fabulous! Cocktails and hors d’oeuvres at eight at my place. You still remember where that is?” Before Julian could reply that he did, Craig went on. “Then we’ll have a buffet at nine, followed by all sorts of revelry to welcome you back home. How does that sound?”

“Fabulous,” Julian replied sarcastically.

The sarcasm was lost on Craig, who babbled on about appropriate dress and who all had been invited. Craig ended the call by admonishing Julian not to be more than fashionably late, as the party was for him, after all.

“There are several guys who are just dying to see you again now that you’re free, so dress to kill,” Craig added as he said goodbye, blowing a kiss into the phone.

Julian shook his head and hung up.