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“You loved that farm when you were little, and for Marie to leave it to you tells me that you had an impact on her as well. She obviously didn’t leave it to your father, wherever he is now.”
“Will you come with me?” I ask. Could I really just pack up my life as she is suggesting?
“Oh no. I had my adventure out here already. Besides, I think this might be good for you and exactly what you need. You just turned thirty. There is no better time to really spread your wings.” As she sighs longingly, I can tell she’s getting serious.
“The city isn’t going anywhere, sweetie. If it doesn’t work out, you can always sell, return to the city, and get back to the life you had.”
Maybe she is right. Maybe this is the universe telling me to take a chance and do something new.
“Who knows, maybe you can renovate the old place. Turn it into one of those beautiful interior countryside bed-and-breakfast farm stay thingies. You are so good at decorating and designing,” she says, and I bite my bottom lip. That is a secret dream of mine. To renovate a home and make new from old. At the mere mention of that possibility, my stomach flutters in equal parts fear and excitement. And suddenly, I know what I want.
“I’m going to do it,” I say, determination filling me. Mom is right, I need an adventure. What else have I got? Sure, there is Fiona, and my beautiful apartment, but Ican keep it here, leave it waiting for me for a few months until I work out if I am coming back or not.
“Great! I’m so excited for you, sweetie! Let’s book your plane ticket,” she says quickly, and we chat for the next forty-five minutes, making arrangements. She tells me everything she knows about Marie and Whispers, and before long, I have already started a new Pinterest board.
4
VICTORIA
“So, you’re from the city?” the old man who is driving my taxi asks. He has been trying to make small talk the entire ride from the airport.
“Yes, that’s right,” I tell him, not sure how much personal information to give him. In the city, I don’t talk much about myself, but out here, it appears people love to know things.
“The bright-pink scarf gave it away. Not too many people around here wear colors like that. So, you are going to Marie’s place?” he asks, and my head turns swiftly to look at him in the rearview mirror. I decide not to ask about the pink reference, not having the energy.
“Did you know her?” My eyes thin in question. We drove through the town of Whispers about five minutes ago. It was beautiful, very quaint. But now we are driving through some forests, and I don’t want to panic, but the only thing telling me that I am fine with this strange man in this strange town is the map app on my cell phone that is tracking me to my final destination.
“Oh, everyone knew Marie. She lived here for years. Kept to herself a lot, but everyone knew her,” he says, and I nod.
“I’m her niece. Victoria,” I tell him. I wonder for a moment whether that is a smart thing to do, but he smiles, and it seems genuine.
“Well, good to know she had someone. I’m Peter, the local taxi. The only one. If you ever need a ride anywhere, you just call me,” he says as we pull down Distillery Drive, the road to my new adventure. There are signs everywhere for the Whiteman’s Distillery, and in my research on the town, I now know that it’s home to the country's finest whiskey. I prefer champagne or cocktails over the hard stuff, but each to their own.
“You can find anything you need in town. The Delish Diner is great for breakfast or coffee. Rochelle runs that. Then Jasmine at the local florist is about your age, I think. You should pop in and make yourself known to her. The supermarket is open every day; tourists fill the town on the weekends, and there are a lot of people living here who appreciate their privacy, but many others you will see out and about. Well… here we are.”
I try to remember all that he is telling me and bank it away for later. I look out the cab window as we pull up to the home that looked a lot newer in the photos I found online.
“Wow.” I’m almost lost for words as I step out of the car. The house needs work.A lot of work.As I take it all in, I start to become overwhelmed.
“I’ll bring your bags to the front door,” Peter says as he heads around to the trunk, and I take a few stepstoward the property. I look for miles and see nothing but beautiful thick green grass surrounding the house. Over the small hill toward the back, I spot the top of what I assume is part of the distillery, with Marie’s place and the distillery being the only two properties on this road.
“There you go, Victoria. I assume you are meeting Jerry?” the man says, nodding over to the red truck that is parked down the driveway a little. “That’s him.”
“Oh, okay. What do I owe you?” I ask, grabbing my handbag.
“Nothing at all. First ride is on the house. Welcome to Whispers. I am sure I will see you around.” He smiles and I do the same, watching him reverse out and drive away.
“Miss McArthur?” an older man in a suit calls out, walking up the driveway as I start walking toward him. “I’m Jerry Walker, your aunt’s lawyer and Whisper’s only legal counsel. Welcome. I hope your flight was alright?”
Meeting halfway down the driveway, from here, I get a better look at the backyard. It seems to stretch for miles and overgrown doesn’t even come close to describing it. I swallow hard.
“Hi, Mr. Walker. Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand. He seems nice. Much like Peter, he appears friendly enough, and I feel immediately at home, even though I should still be on guard. I don’t know any of these people. They could all be axe murderers or part of a cult, for all I know.
“We have some paperwork to sign off, and I can give you a tour and leave you all the keys,” he says, and I nod.
“I would like that.”
“I must say, before your call this morning, and withless than twenty-four hours to spare, we didn’t think you were coming,” he says with a chuckle.
