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“Trey,” he told her. “My grandfather’s Ace, my dad’s Deuce. I’m Trey.”
“Clever.” The wave of sadness passed; amusement followed. “And simpler than Oliver one, two, and three. Trey, did you know Collin Poole—my uncle?”
“Sure. He was actually a kind of uncle to me, and my sister. He was family. I’m just going to put the coats with your things for now, but there’s a closet in the front sitting room. Collin used it for coats and outdoor gear.”
“There’s a front parlor and a front sitting room?”
“If you’re after open concept, you won’t find it here. What you’ve got is a labyrinth. I’ll take you through. Where do you want to start?”
“Might as well start here.”
She turned into what he’d called the front parlor.
She found it surprisingly cozy given its size, and the fire crackling away inside an elaborate dark wood framed fireplace added cheerful.
A trio of windows offered views of the snow-covered lawn, the stone seawall, and the sea beyond it.
Another chandelier—iron again, but considerably smaller—dropped from a ceiling medallion. The sofas, chairs, all softly faded, would easily seat twenty. Like the floors, the tables gleamed. As did a piano tucked in a corner.
“Did he play? Collin.”
“He did, and pretty well. Do you?”
“‘Chopsticks’ is the top of my game.” But she ran her hand over the piano as she wandered the room. “Do you?”
“I can fake some boogie-woogie if I’ve had enough beer. Most of the paintings in here are Collin’s work.”
He’d painted the sea in myriad moods.
“Your father was an artist.”
“Yes. Their styles are very similar. I don’t know if that’s comforting or disconcerting.”
“It’s a lot to deal with.”
She heard comfort in his voice, and took it. “Working on it. So, this is a friendly room. I didn’t know what to expect.”
“Through here’s another, smaller sitting room, then the solarium.”
He led the way.
“Oh! The base of the turret. It’s wonderful. They didn’t square it off.”
The tall, rounded windows poured light into the room. It held deeply cushioned chairs in that same peacock blue, a love seat in that strong blue with rose-colored stripes. Tables she thought must be antique.
And plants. A potted tree that dripped with what looked like tiny oranges, another with lemons. Another plant with glossy leaves showcased a pair of large white flowers.
She recognized a jade plant, as her mother had one, but the one gracing a stand was fully three times as big.
“So much light even on a day like this. Now I’m terrified I’ll kill the plants.”
“Collin had a knack for them.”
“I’m sorry.” She straightened from sniffing at one of the white blooms, so fragrant it made her heart sigh. “I should’ve said it before. You were close, and it’s a loss for you.”
“Thanks. It is.”
They continued on. Another parlor, another space he called the morning room, a music room with another piano—a baby grand this time, and other instruments including a floor harp, a hurdy-gurdy, a cello.
