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“I think I remember my school,” Sava
The air outside was mild. It felt more like spring in New York than winter, and she was warm in the heavy sweater on the short ride. In fifteen minutes, they had reached Charleston, and she could see church spires rising in the air. She looked with curiosity and interest at the beautiful old homes they were driving past, painted in ice cream colors, with wrought-iron gates and balconies. The architecture was intricate and ancient, and there were lovely old bridges reaching out to tiny islands. There was a spectacular harbor full of boats, mostly sailboats. Tom pointed out Fort Sumter in the harbor, where the Civil War officially began. It was a beautiful city, and had an aura of history and grace about it. Before she came to hate it, Alexa had always said it was the most breathtaking city in the South, maybe the world. There were tall trees with moss hanging from them, which were still green although it was February. As they approached Mt. Pleasant her father told her they were oak trees.
“I’ll take you sightseeing tomorrow,” he promised, and took her hand in his, as she smiled bravely and nodded. Everything was so different and new, it felt like she was on another planet.
You could sense that everything here was different, a different culture, a different way of life, a respect for history, and a feeling of another world. She felt as though she was floating in space, although it was very pretty. The city seemed to be entirely about history and beauty. She knew that southerners were very proud of their history, and years before when she had asked her father about the Civil War, when she was studying it in school, he had corrected her and called it “the War Between the States,” and said there was nothing civil about it. Her father was every inch a southerner, by ancestry and birth, and very proud of it. He was a southern gentleman to the core, although her mother had walked away without a word when Sava
And the old black man who drove the cab had a heavy, warm accent. Sava
The houses her father had pointed out to her in town predated the Civil War, and they bumped along over several cobblestone streets. He said there was a French Quarter he would show her too. There were two rivers, the Cooper and the Ashley. And her father told her that the beaches were terrific, at the Isle of Palms and Sullivan Island. He said she could go there when it got warmer. It was a small city, but there would be a lot for her to do. There were several colleges, coffeehouses where students hung out, and wonderful stores where she could go shopping. And he turned and asked her then if she knew how to drive a car. He was embarrassed not to know that about her but he didn’t. There was so much about her that he didn’t know-but he was about to learn now. He wondered if, in some ways, this flight from New York would turn out to be a blessing for them both. Her coming to Charleston to be with him would never have happened otherwise. Luisa would never have let it, and hadn’t for the last decade. Sava
“I have a license,” Sava
“Charleston is an easy city to drive in, once you know your way around. You can get your practice here. I’ll lend you one of ours. We have a couple of old ones.” He didn’t add “for the servants,” but Sava
The architecture she was seeing was colonial, with tall white columns, stately entrances, ornate gates in some cases, and long driveways leading up to the houses. This was clearly the fanciest part of town, which didn’t surprise her. Nothing looked familiar to her as she gazed out the window, until suddenly the cab slowed, and turned into a driveway. There was a huge expanse of grounds, and the driveway seemed endless. Sava
“I remember this driveway.” He smiled as she said it, and looked pleased. There had been a small brass plaque on one of the brick posts at either side of the entrance that said Thousand Oaks. He told her that in the early days, before the war, there were said to be a thousand oaks bordering the property. He had never counted and doubted there were as many now; the land had been reduced to ten acres that made a handsome expanse surrounding and reaching far behind the house. She remembered now that there was a te
As they drove up the driveway, she could see the house better. It was huge, and absolutely spectacular. It looked like something in a movie. Sava
The house was white with tall columns, and the front door was shiny black with an enormous antique brass knocker in the middle of it. The house had been built in the eighteenth century, and was part of the original plantation. There was nothing left now except the house and the ten acres it sat on. The crumbling old slave quarters were at the back of the property, and were used as sheds to store tools and gardening supplies. It was hard to believe that people had lived in the tiny rooms, as many as twelve or fifteen to a room. His mother liked to say that the Beaumonts had been extremely kind to their slaves, but it wasn’t something Tom was proud of. Sava
The driver took their bags out of the car, and as though by magic two African-American men appeared, and greeted Tom warmly. One was a college student who worked for them part time, and the other was a dignified older man who looked kind and was well spoken. Jed had worked for Tom’s family for years. He had been there in Alexa’s day as well, and he had no trouble figuring out who the beautiful young blonde was, although he had had no warning of her arrival. She looked just like her mother, and he smiled widely when he saw her.