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Harry came in.
“Did you find what you were looking for, sir?” he asked.
“Yes, Harry,” I said, standing up. “I think I did.”
“Would you like to have some dinner, sir?” Harry asked, picking up the tray with the whiskey pitcher and my glass.
“I would actually. Could we make a sandwich or something?”
“I think we could do better than a sandwich, sir.”
“Sounds amazing. Will you join me, Harry?”
“If you wish, sir. I’m afraid the dining room is empty at the moment, though.”
“The kitchen will do just fine,” I said.
***
I decided to stay at the house for the rest of the weekend. I figured that once I was there, I might as well do something useful. I received a few inquisitive phone calls from Natasha who had tried to invite herself to the house. She had known that I had not visited the place in years and had gotten extremely excited at the opportunity to finally see the place. I had told her that there would be another chance and had promised to take her out when I was back in town. She hadn’t said much, but I had sensed that she had been disappointed.
I saw my mother was trying to call me but decided not to answer. I hadn’t been in touch with her for some time and I didn’t know how to explain why I had come to Maple Grove House. I wasn’t in the mood to make up some excuses and decided to call her back in a few days.
I spent most of my time walking in the park reminiscing about the good old days and checking the place I had intended to use for my construction project. The park with its old trees, wooden benches and neatly mown grass was as splendid as I remembered it. It almost made me reconsider for a minute what I was going to do with a sizable chunk of it. It also reminded me of the time when we were looking for Charlie and I felt a twinge of hostility towards it as if it was its fault that my brother had disappeared. In the end, I felt that bringing more people to this place would bring new life and positive energy. It had been deserted long enough. I wondered what my predecessors would think about all that, though. Would they turn over in their graves on the other side of the park? The thought made me smile. Perhaps for the heir who I was going to become one day, the right thing to do was to keep the place intact as it had been created by the previous generations. Somehow, I didn’t feel enough connection with the past for it to be an obstacle in my decision-making. Did that make me a bad owner or a pragmatic businessman? If one wanted to create a future, one had to let go of the past. I had read that on some street poster somewhere. I thought it wasn’t such a bad idea.