Read Online The Guests on South Battery by Karen White - Free Book Online Page A

Sophie stepped from the car, dressed in head-to-toe tie-dye in various hues of green. Even her unruly dark curls were pulled back from her face with a lime green tie-dye elastic headband. Her feet were clad in her ubiquitous Birkenstocks, these in green patent leather, her socks subscribing to the tie-dye theme.
    â€œI hope you’re planning on sending Skye to live with me when she’s old enough to learn about fashion and the proper use of color and patterns.”
    Sophie grinned. “Only if you’ll send Sarah and JJ to me when you’re convalescing from your foot surgery to repair them from the damage your shoes are causing.”
    â€œThere is nothing wrong with my feet—” I began, but Jayne interrupted by stepping forward with an outstretched hand.
    â€œYou must be Dr. Wallen-Arasi. I’m Jayne Smith, and I appreciate you coming out today.”
    Sophie pumped her hand up and down. “Please call me Sophie. Everybody does.”
    â€œFor the record,” Jayne said, “I like your shoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen patent leather on a Birkenstock before.”
    â€œRemind me later and I’ll write down the name of the store.”
    I was relieved to see panic flash in Jayne’s eyes. “Don’t worry,” I said. “She’s been threatening to tell me where she shops for years, but I’ve yet to be persuaded to join the dark side.”
    I missed Jayne’s reaction because I was watching Sophie, a small pucker between her eyebrows as she studied Jayne. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”
    â€œNo, I’m pretty sure we haven’t. But I get that a lot. I must have one of those faces.”
    â€œYeah, probably.” Sophie smiled, then turned back to her car and pulled a folded square of cloth out of the passenger seat. “I brought ahousewarming gift.” She unfolded it and held it up. “It’s an anti–cruise ship flag. Every homeowner in Charleston should display one in protest.”
    I sighed. “Jayne just got here. Let her assimilate first before she’s forced to take a position on such a hot topic, all right?” I took the flag and refolded it, then placed it back in Sophie’s car.
    Sophie frowned at me, then refocused her attention on the house, sighing as if she’d just witnessed a miracle. “So, this is your inheritance.”
    â€œTechnically,” Jayne said. “I just happen to own it now—but only temporarily.”
    â€œI’m sure you’ll change your mind when you see what an architectural masterpiece this really is. It’s been owned by only two families since it was built, and I’ve never had the pleasure of going inside before, so this is a real treat.” Sophie stepped back to see the facade better. “To the untrained eye, it’s just a typical double house of cypress and heart pine above a stout brick basement. But when you study it a little more closely, you’ll see that its Georgian simplicity is lightened by dentils under the corona of the eave cornices, the pattern repeated in the bull’s-eyed pediment and pillared portico. It’s really quite lovely.”
    I wondered if Jayne’s glazed-eye expression matched my own.
    â€œHow old is it?” Jayne asked.
    â€œI’m not exactly sure, but definitely pre–Revolutionary War.” Sophie headed toward the split staircase under the portico that led from the sidewalk to the front door. “One of my students several years ago included this house in her dissertation. It has a very interesting bell system based on differently toned chimes for each room. Part of the interview process for servants was to make sure they weren’t tone-deaf so they’d know where they were needed. I think the bells are still in the house, although I doubt they’re still working. But what a piece of history!”
    Jayne and I shared a glance behind