Chapter 20

“When you get to Main and Highland you’ll note a cafe on the corner. At the end of that block is the Lamp Factory. That’s the loft. You can park on the street. Just ring the bell when you get here.”
Darla came into the great room buttoning her blouse.

“The architect?” she asked.

“Yes. Just giving her last minute directions.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to handle it?” she asked.

“No. I mean you’re welcome to come along, but Martin asked me to do it.”

Emily came down the hall just then. She did not look especially happy.

“I swear I’m going to get even with this little bugger some day,” she said. “There’s definitely a sea voyage with a serving of under-cooked bacon in this guy’s future.” Then she got a sour look on her face. “Oh God. Just the thought...” She turned around and ran for the hall bathroom.

“She’s really gonna get you for this,” Darla said laughing.

“She’s not really mad?”

“No. She loves being a Prima Donna. The fact is she ecstatic about it, even though it was unplanned.”

“And you?”

Darla threw herself in my arms.

“I love both of you and will love this little guy, no matter who the biological father is.” We kissed.

The sound of the door bell echoed through the loft. Darla reached over to click answer on the device next to us, never leaving my arms.

The screen was big enough to see the young woman standing at our door. She looked to be a year or two older than we were, probably early thirties. With the aspect ratio of the door cam it was hard to see anything but her torso. She was wearing a gray suit over a teal blouse. Her long blond hair was pulled back. Her features were Romanesque.

Darla pushed the unlock button and said, “Come on up.”

Darla stepped out of my arms, but remained pressed into me.

As the woman rose out of the staircase I could see that she was slim. She was wearing a pair of flared pants which matched her jacket. She was tall. Taller than Darla and almost as tall as I am. In her hand she carried a leather portfolio. A large leather bag was slung over her shoulder. I saw her examining the room as she looked around with a professional eye.

“Wow this place is really something. Who was the architect?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I inherited it.” Darla nudged me. “Danny Becket,” I said introducing myself. “Ms. Wolcott, this is my lovely wife Darla.”

The woman offered Darla her hand.

“Stephanie, please,” she said as the women shook hands.

“I’m the Realtor who sold the property you’re here to look at,” my wife said.

“Ah.” Stephanie looked like she wanted to ask something, then did. “I have to ask. Can I please get a tour of this place? It’s beautifully done. Please?”

Just then Emily came back into the great room. At least she was dressed this time, if only in a light robe.

“Stephanie,” Darla said. “This is our girlfriend Emily. I’m afraid Emily is a little ill this morning.”

“I come by it honestly,” Emily said. “I’m pregnant.”

“Congratulations,” the architect said. “Ginger ale. It worked wonders for me.”

I glanced at her left hand. No ring.

“So shall we start here?” I said.

“The view from up here is quite nice.”

We finished the tour with a walk on the roof.

“It’s a little nippy up here now,” Darla said. “We still manage to use the hot tub though.”

“I imagine it’s quite private up here at night.”

“Perhaps you can join us later this evening,” Darla said. “Unless you’re planning to drive back tonight.”

“No. I expect I can find a nearby motel once we finish.”

“Nonsense. You saw the spare room. Stay with us please.”

“Very well. Thank you. I’m afraid I’ll have to miss the hot tube though. I didn’t bring a suit.”

“We seldom use one,” Darla said.

The blonde remained silent, but I could see the blush on her fair skin.

“Perhaps we better get to the firehouse,” I said.

“This is going to be really interesting.” Stephanie walked carefully through the debris on the second floor. “I’ve got the floor plans, but there are always differences.”

She inspected the brass pole that ran from the plywood over the hole in the floor to the ceiling.

“I can see why the owner wants to keep the pole. It’s lovely. Is he a fire buff?”

Darla laughed.

“Martin’s fiancee practices pole sport,” I said.

“Pole sport?”

“Pole dancing,” Darla said.

“She’s a pole dancer?” Stephanie asked incredulously.

“Actually she’s a doctor of physics,” I said. “Pole dancing, or more correctly pole sport is her hobby.”

“Ah. So I should plan to put a studio around the pole on this level. There’s plenty of square footage to support that.”

She headed to the stairs and we followed her down.

“Excellent. There’s plenty of room for a two car garage and we remove one bay door and make the other area an open great room. Kitchen over there. And we can keep the pole down here too. We’ll want to support it a floor level if it’s going to be used for acrobatics rather than to slide down.”

She made a final note and closed her portfolio.

“I’ll make some preliminary drawings and send them to Mr. Brown. Unlike your loft, this place can benefit from some additional windows. Of course the loft designer didn’t have a lot of choices. The common side walls limited natural lighting options. Skylights and solar ducted light pipes were the perfect solution.”

“I adore the natural lighting,” Darla said as we walked back to the car.

“Do we have any idea who the general contractor will be?” Stephanie asked as she belted herself into the front seat of the Wagoneer. Darla had insisted she ride up front.

“Not yet. As you might imagine there are only a few companies locally. But if we go a county or two over it should be possible to get an excellent general contractor.”

“I hope you’ve decided to stay with us, Steph,” Darla said.

“It is a long drive back and that motel, the Oyster Cove, looked a little sketch.”

“Oh it is,” Darla said. “I stayed there when I first got to town.”

“Okay. I guess you have a house guest for tonight.”

“So I was thinking Pipo’s for dinner,” Darla said.

“Best Italian in town,” I said.

“Feeling better Emily?” Darla asked.

“Yeah. You guys were gone for hours.”

“Stephanie went over the firehouse with a fine tooth comb. Particularly the mechanicals. She seemed really impressed by the loft.”

“Where is she?”

“Freshening up,” I said. “We’re going to Pipo’s for supper.”

“Yum. A couple of hours ago I could barely choke down toast. Now I’m hungry enough to put away a half a chicken.”

Darla again insisted that Ms. Wolcott sit up front.

“This is quite a classic,” Stephanie said.

“She’s my baby.”

“So what do you do, Danny? When you’re not hosting traveling architects.”

“I’m more or less between careers right now. I dabble in a few things,” I said.

“Danny is too modest,” Darla said. “He’s running for town council. We own a number of buildings. That sort of thing.”

I pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. By car the trip took minutes.

Marla seated us and Sarina came to take our drink orders. I ordered wine, red for myself and white for Darla and Stephanie. Emily had a ginger ale.

“You said that ginger ale helped your morning sickness,” Emily said.

“Life saver.”

“So you have a child?”

Stephanie pulled out her phone. She opened the photo app and fumbled with it a few seconds and then handed the phone to Emily.

“Oh he’s so cute,” the pixie girl said.

“He’s with his grandmother while I’m away.”

“No father in the picture?” Darla asked.

“No.” Stephanie looked over at me. “So I can’t help noticing the flag on the wall over there.”

She was, of course, referring to the poly flag.

“Do you know what it’s for?” I asked.

“I have a pretty good idea. I’m not polyamorous myself, but I am familiar with the concept. I take it to mean that Emily’s baby daddy is...”

“Me,” I admitted. “The concept doesn’t shock you does it?”

“No. Not really.”

Further conversation was halted by Sarina delivering our drinks and waiting for our orders. Once we had selected our food she withdrew.

“Is this one of your establishments?”

“No. The extended family that owns it are poly though.”

“Are there a lot of poly people in Lesserton? There must be for the flag to be displayed so prominently.”

“It’s not an accident that many of the small towns in the state are dying while Lesserton is thriving,” Darla said.

“Interesting,” Stephanie said. “So are the owners of the firehouse moving here because of their lifestyle?”

“Probably,” I said.

“You don’t know?”
“Well Martin and Irena are kind of new to the lifestyle. Does it matter to you?”

“Only professionally. For example your place was obviously designed to support social occasions. You have large public spaces and an extensive outdoor space on the roof. I won’t even comment on that ridiculous bed of yours. However you only have two spare rooms. One will probably have to be converted to a nursery eventually and later to a child’s room. Of course you have extensive room on the first floor to convert, however then the lack of windows becomes a problem. I suppose it could be solved using solar piping, as was done for the bathrooms, but it still won’t be as well illuminated as the rooms with skylights.

“The firehouse will not have the same problems. However if the owners are going to ... engage ... in similar activities more bedrooms could be designed in the initial plans.”

“I have no knowledge of Martin and Irena’s intentions as far as either children or additional household members. You’ll have to speak to them about that.”

“So have you decided about staying the night?” Darla asked from the back seat as we made the quick trip home.

“Oh I’ve definitely decided to stay,” the blonde stated.

“Would you like a nightcap?” Darla asked.
“Why don’t we bring a bottle up with us?” the blonde asked. “If the invitation to use the hot tub is still on.”

“I thought you didn’t bring a suit,” Darla responded.

“I thought you said you seldom use one.”

“I’m going to have to decline,” Emily said. “There’s a bit of a risk.”

“You won’t mind if we use the balcony stairs,” I asked her.