Dancing On the Wind
““Shit!” Fallon whispered, bending down to look up through the windshield at the immense red brick structure that set on a slight rise. The Early Classical Revival was ablaze with sedate lighting in all the tall windows and the two long single-story wings flanking the main portion of the house were bracketed by two large live oaks festooned with twinkling lights. The curving driveway that passed in front of the house was lined with copper-shaded path lights and upon the great expanse of lawn wer...e accent lights that shone up into the oaks and lit many of the shrubs that adorned lush floral islands here and there.
“My mother likes plants,” Keenan mumbled, and turned the car onto another part of the driveway that led to the back of the opulent structure.
“A six-car garage?” Fallon questioned as they neared the detached structure.
“That was for Daddy’s collection of antique cars,” she said. “His hobby was restoring them.” She pointed to another wing jutting off the back of the house.MoreLess
“My mother likes plants,” Keenan mumbled, and turned the car onto another part of the driveway that led to the back of the opulent structure.
“A six-car garage?” Fallon questioned as they neared the detached structure.
“That was for Daddy’s collection of antique cars,” she said. “His hobby was restoring them.” She pointed to another wing jutting off the back of the house.MoreLess
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