I had moved into the big old house early in the Fall of the year. Thankfully the weather stayed warm and dry enough to allow needed repairs and restorations to take place, and I'd inherited enough money when my Uncle died to allow me to contract enough workers to get it all done rapidly and well. I hadn't expected the inheritance. My father had died when I was young and mother had raised me as a single parent afterwards. We never had much but I'd never lacked for the necessities. She managed a home, food, basic education, and my clothes, while not top of the line, had been warm and functional -- even stylish on occasion.
Mother had one brother. He was a perpetual bachelor who I eventually realized was likely gay, but he'd been the only person remotely resembling a father figure in my life and I adored him. I went to him with all my troubles and secrets, not my mother -- I told him about my first crush and first kiss, and went to him in distress when my first period convinced me I was dying. He'd taken it all in stride, listening, educating, consoling when needed. I had no idea he'd saved his money for so long or that he'd leave it all to me instead of perhaps creating a foundation for his beloved cats and beagles. At any rate, I was now the proud owner of the Victorian era 'Painted Lady' mansion overlooking the Mississippi River.
Pulling into the long drive I stopped the car for a moment to enjoy the view. Externally, at least, the old girl had been restored to her former glory her gingerbread trim shone in the late afternoon sunlight and the windows gleamed. As I pulled around to the back and carried the groceries up the stairs and into the kitchen I grimaced. Now, if only the interior matched the exterior, I thought ruefully. Unpacking my few supplies and putting them away I uncorked a bottle of white wine and poured myself a glass. One step at a time, I thought...and one room at a time. My bedroom had been re-plastered and freshly painted. A new window seat graced the big bow window with plush pillows and cozy, crocheted throws, making a restful reading nook, or a spot to while away an afternoon watching the river flow by, daydreaming and napping. My big brass bed graced one corner near the fireplace. A cheval mirror reflected the light from the window and revealed my Uncle's last surviving cat, a rescued Siamese named Bandit, curled among the pillows and throws on the window seat.
Wandering back into the hall I paused at the door to the main bathroom. The room had been enlarged by encompassing part of the original nursery -- a room that wouldn't be needed at any point in the near future. I was pleased with its progress so far. One of my contractors had found an deep, old, cast iron tub. There were some beautiful blue cameo style Italian tiles around the room and the fixtures were deep blue, Italian marble -- a pedestal sink, lavatory and bidet. At the far end of the room there was a glass wall partition providing privacy for a large shower compartment with multiple shower heads, as well as a hand held shower feature and bench seating. The doors could be closed and the room could actually be used as a sauna too, having separate heat and steam capabilities. It was a surprisingly modern feature for the old Victorian home but I saw no reason why the restoration couldn't provide some comfort and amenities as well.
But that was about the extent of the completed restorations thus far. Downstairs the main living area was a work in progress, the dining room was...usable but barely. The kitchen had some basic functionality -- an ancient 1950s era range/oven combination and only slightly newer fridge/freezer allowed me to shop, store food and do some basic cooking. A rickety old drop leaf oak table and some cracked and painted kitchen chairs completed the furnishings. After the living room/parlor I thought the kitchen might be my next project and daydreamed about marble or granite counters and the possibility of finding a very modern functioning range and oven that looked like an old fashioned wood stove. Pouring myself another glass of wine I thought I might spend some time later internet searching that. Meanwhile I headed off to build a fire in the main room and wondering if wood stove looking heaters could be incorporated into room renovations upstairs.
After a brief dinner of a small premade salad from the store I settled onto the couch in front of the fire with my laptop and a last glass of wine. I found a cooking appliance that combined an antique look with near modern versatility. It was, at least something I thought could be both functional and suitably retro looking. I was just generally surfing around now -- looking at heaters and chandeliers, lamps and other furnishings.
My own personal tastes ranged from Art Deco to Edwardian, without the overblown and too crowded look of some Victorian era refurbs and I had just gotten up to wander through the house, debating paint colors, wall paper, drapes and rugs. I was passing the small room that, at one time had been the Master bedroom's dressing room, when I experienced a sudden chill and became aware of noise and clatter. The door was ajar and a low light flickered within the room, drawing me closer. Peeking through the door I almost gasped aloud, instead pressing my hand over my mouth to keep quiet.
Inside the room there was a small wood stove glowing cheerfully with flame, a copper pot on top of it steamed gently in the cool air of the room. A hip bath rested on a braided rug and a woman rested in it with her back to me. Her auburn hair was piled in a mass of curls on top of her head and I could just glimpse a hint of an aquiline profile. One pale, slender arm rested on the rim of the bath. A young maid, appearing just out of her teens, leaned over the bath pouring in bath oil redolent of summer flowers, before she lifted down the steaming copper to add hot water to the tub. I could just hear the soft murmur of feminine voices but not understand their dialogue. Kneeling beside the tub the maid picked up a soft sponge and began to bathe the occupant. Soft, languorous sighs filled the room when the maid paid particular attention to some areas of the bather's body.