A Man of Many Parts

Chapter 2-2

What have I gotten myself into? Jax wondered as he followed Walton up the long, curving staircase to the second floor hallway. He was tempted to ask Walton if Donovan was always so officious, but knew he probably wouldn’t get an honest answer.

“Your room, Mr. Martin,” Walton said, opening the door at one end of the hallway. “Mr. Hayes’s suite is there.” He pointed to a set of double doors in the center of the hallway. “The stairs down to the kitchen are at the far end of the hallway from you. The other doors lead to more guestrooms.”

The room was large, with bow windows overlooking the side and back yards of the house. Or mansion, I suppose, given its size. The walls were pale teal, the drapes a dark teal, while the rug and the spread on the queen-sized bed were white. The bedstead, dresser, and nightstands were a dark cherry. A black leather lounger was placed in the curve of the side window. Across from the foot of the bed, which was set in front of the other bow window, there was a large closet and the door to the bathroom—which was done in shades of teal granite and beige cabinetry.

“If nothing else, he takes care of his guests,” Jax murmured once Walton had left. “That is if every guestroom is like this one,” which he suspected they were.

He unpacked, then took advantage of the fact it was still a while until dinner to take a shower, after which he dressed in dark slacks and a blue dress shirt before making his way downstairs to the wide entryway.

He saw Donovan in the living room, wearing slacks and a dress shirt as well, every strand of his blond hair carefully in place. When he saw him, Donovan beckoned for Jax to join him and asked, “Would you care for a drink before dinner?” Jax said he would—“Scotch on the rocks, if you’ve got it,”—at which point Donovan went to what appeared to be a cabinet along one wall. When he opened the doors, a well-appointed bar was revealed. Soon, Jax was sipping his scotch while Donovan drank a vodka martini.

“So, what do you think of my home so far?” Donovan asked.

“It’s definitely large, from what I can tell,” Jax replied. “Not that I’ve seen much of it.”

“Let me give you a quick tour. We still have time before dinner.”

The tour was exactly that—quick. Donovan took Jax through the living room into what he called the parlor, which consisted of several black leather sofas and armchairs, all facing a large-screen plasma television on the interior wall, with a set of shelves holding books and DVD cases on exterior wall between two bow windows that overlooked the lawn and trees in the side yard. Next to the parlor, behind the staircase, was Donovan’s office, well-lit with overhead lights to make up for the lack of windows. A door at the rear was for the library.

Across the entryway from the living room was a large formal dining room. It was sparsely furnished, in Jax’s opinion. A dining table that could seat at least eight people sat in lonely splendor on Persian rug in the center of room. There were three sets of French doors which opened onto the side patio, with mahogany cabinets between them. There was also a long bow window facing the front yard.

In the basement there was a fully equipped gym and a game room with a pool table, a round card table, and two antique pinball machines.

“No dart board?” Jax asked with a trace of amusement. He laughed when Donovan opened the doors of a small cabinet on the wall next to a full bar to reveal one.

“I’ll show you the library after dinner, which should be ready by now,” Donovan promised as they went up to the first floor.

It was ready, and rather than eating in the formal dining room, Donovan led the way to a smaller and more comfortable one in a nook to one side of the kitchen. Before they sat, Donovan introduced Jax to Mrs. Greene, the cook. She was a pleasingly plump middle-aged woman who obviously knew what she was doing if dinner was any example. They started with clear onion soup, followed by an entrée of roast beef au jus, baked potatoes, and caramelized broccoli with garlic. Dessert was peach pie topped with vanilla ice cream.

“That was excellent,” Jax proclaimed once the meal was over and he was finishing the last of his wine. “I can imagine what a full dinner party would be like.”

Much to Jax’s surprise, Donovan replied, “I’ve never held one, so I wouldn’t know.” He refilled their wine glasses then took Jax into the library.

It ran the full length of the back of the house, with tall, glass-fronted bookcases filling all four walls, broken only by the door from the office and bay windows overlooking the side lawns at either end. A six-drawer library table and four Windsor chairs sat in the center of the room. On the table, in front of one of the chairs, was what Jax presumed was the atlas that needed his attention.

Before looking at it, however, he took time to check out some of the books in the cases, which, he noted, were climate-controlled for optimum temperature and humidity. Much of what he saw were collector’s items, some antiquarian—both first editions and otherwise—and all with fine bindings and high-quality paper. Others were limited editions from the early to mid-twentieth century. Two bookcases held Donovan’s collection of atlases dating, according to Donovan, from the early fifteen-hundreds to the late nineteen-eighties.

Jax joined Donovan at the table when he was finished. Donovan opened the atlas to the crayon-damaged pages and Jax winced at the childish scribbling, even though he knew that restoring them to their original condition wouldn’t be a hard job, although it would be tedious. “I hope the child’s parent had several very stern words with him, or her.”

“I would if it were me,” Donovan replied. “I might even have been tempted to cut the kid’s hands off so it wouldn’t happen again.”

Jax chuckled. “I think that’s a bit extreme.”

“Probably,” Donovan admitted. “Still, children should never be allowed anywhere near books that are collector’s items.”

From the expression on his face, Jax had the impression Donovan was not overly fond of children under any circumstances.

“You will be able to repair it, I hope,” Donovan said.

“Yes. It might take a day or two, but when I’m finished, you’ll never know a crayon had touched the pages.”

“Excellent.” Donovan closed the atlas before saying, “Now, if you don’t mind, I have something I need to do. Feel free to watch television or read. There’s a fairly decent collection of books in the parlor.”

“Thank you. I’ll do one or the other, depending on what’s on TV.”

Donovan walked with him to the parlor before heading back toward the kitchen area. As it was getting late, Jax chose a book which he took upstairs with him to read before going to bed.