"Jake, it's quitting time." Andy yelled out into the Plantation Mansion. The sound of a hammer pounding rang out from it's interior. Andy Tibidoux was the Contractor of this construction site and was a friend of Jake's, had been since middle school.
The Plantation was a nine hundred acre spread with cotton fields, guest houses, migratory workers shacks, a barn, sheds, silos, air strip, hanger and the big white pillared Mansion that had been under renovation for almost a year and a half now.
"Quitting time? It's only two O'clock!" Jake yelled from the second story landing. Most of the workmen didn't show up at all and those who did took an early lunch and disappeared for the rest of the day.
"It's Christmas Eve Jake. Come on, I told Maggie to set a plate for you. You can come out to the house and we'll drink a few brews for old times sake." Andy stepped into the Mansion looking up into the big spiraling stair case towards the second floor landing.
"You got to be kidding. Thanks but no thanks, I'm working till seven at least and I'll be back out here tomorrow, too." Jake yelled out while nailing more boards. The slamming of the hammer against a nail set rang out from the Mansion's upper level.
"Damn you Jake, Your worst than Mr. Scrooge. Come on, don't be like that," Andy pleaded.
"You've known me since we were kids, Andy. You think I'm joking?" Jake replied.
"Look if you change your mind, supper will be around eight, okay?" Andy shook his head in misbelief and turned and walked out the door, then stopped. "Oh, don't forget to lock up. The owner may show up so try not to piss her off, and Jake...Merry Christmas."
"Yeah whatever." Jake mumbled as the nail gun spewed out it's ringing sound. "Ca-shew." Everyone say's he works to keep his mind off his loses. A quiet man, known as the best Carpenter in these parts. But lately his favorite sayings been, "I wasn't put on this earth to win a popularity contest."
"Ca-shew... ca-shew," the air powered nail gun rang out loudly with a slight echoing sound in the empty Mansion. The wood trim walls were solid mahogany, with a lacquered sheen that glistened. The spindles on the stairs were all lathed by Jacob Randle. Better known as, Jake around town.
Southern Mississippi, land of the big river, cotton, swamps and the Gulf of Mexico. The Mansion was owned by a woman that inherited the place. They say her families out of England and that she rarely visited. The history of the plantation dated back to beyond the civil war and slave trade days. The task of remodeling was a feat that was estimated to take at least two years with all the modern equipment to be installed. The state of Mississippi was more interested in saving the place than the owner. They were even establishing a room for tourists near the front door.
Jake wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned back into the silence. Gazing at the caps and molding to ensure that they were plum by sight. Reached out to a spindle on the stairs and pulled himself up. Standing, he stretched his arms out and twisted slightly to adjust his body to being erect, he had been knelt down for way to long.
"Lunch time," Jake thought as he began to descend down the stairs. Holding onto the bannister and feeling it's smooth surface as he walked slowly downward. He became entranced in the feel of slick wood. Checking for blemishes or bubbles in the finish and buckles in the wood's grain.
"Cre....eek," Jake stopped and listened for a second cocking his head slightly to see if he could hear better. "Anybody still here?" He yelled out through the house. The amount of men working here was enormous. The different crews it took to put this place back together was astounding. Mason's, plumbers, pool builders, hot tub installers, painters, alarm and AC installers and the list goes on, so noise wasn't anything to be concerned about except everyone had left, or so he was told.
The general help and field workers stayed in a congregation of homes down by the air strip, hangers and a barn about an eighth of a mile down the road. They never come up to the big house. Or at least not while the yellow construction tape had been placed about the place to warn of hazards.
Jake went to the kitchen were they usually had lunch. Opened up the fridge and took his sack lunch out and grabbed a canned beverage. Sat at the bar and straddled a stool and unraveled a sandwich from a baggy. Popped the top on his can drink and took a big swig.
"Creeeeek," Jake stopped in the middle of drinking and gently laid the can down with his head slightly turned towards where he had heard the noise, the basement.
Slowly and quietly he got up from the stool and walked towards the door that led to the stairs. As he opened the door a Woman in a full, long flowing dress came barging outward.
"Oh blimey! You startled me! I thought everyone had gone home for the day?" Her long, wavy, brown hair was pulled back and pinned, then draped down around her shoulders then down her back. Her pumped up breasts and long cleavage line was a bit different from the usual farm girl's dress around here.
Her brownish red dress went all the way to the floor. She had a white knitted Shaw that draped over her shoulders. Jake figured she was from England by her accent and clothes. And rested a bit more assured that she was a family member or the owner. Yet still cautious enough keep an eye on her. Which was just as much an allure, for she was very pretty.
"Huh, ma'am, should you be in the construction area?" Jake asked politely. Stepping back and allowing her to pass. She was carrying a bottle of wine. Jake had redesigned the wine cellar months ago and assumed she had full permission to be here. He had never met any of the owner, but was told she may appear. So he tried to be polite.
"Well I bloody hope so," she replied as she scampered about the kitchen getting a wine glass and some cheese from the fridge. She opened a drawer and pulled out a knife and got the cutting block along with a plate from the cupboard. She obviously knew her way around so Jake felt certain she had more right to be here than he did.
Jake steadily gazed at her and became more fixed on her pale complexion that added to her beautiful face. She wore a black choker around her neck with a Woman's face stamped on it, that had the look of ivory, centered at her throat.
"And your name would be...?" Jake asked trying not to be to obvious that he was taking mental notes, in case she wasn't supposed to be here.
"Cassandra, Cassandra Hardwick. And you are...?" She asked casually as she began slicing pieces of cheese and placing them on the plate in an eloquent manner.
"Oh, I'm Jacob Randle," he answered while he grabbed is bag lunch and drink, then began to leave the kitchen.
"Where are you going Mr. Randle? Please stay, eat your dinner," she said kindly yet pointing the knife towards the stool he had sat at. Jake glanced at the knife, frozen in his steps with uncertainty. "Oh Please..." she giggled as she saw his concerned look and silent stare at the knife in her hand. She quickly placed the knife in the sink and grabbed her plate of cheese then strolled around the bar and sat at another stool.
Jake slowly climbed into the stool and began spreading out his lunch once again. He kept his eyes on his sandwich as he took a bite but couldn't help but glance her way and soak in her half bare shoulders that pulled on his pupils, begging him to memorize their soft, inviting way.
"I have seen you before, haven't I?" She asked while pulling on the cork screw trying to open the bottle of wine. With no luck she slid the bottle towards Jake. "Would you mind?"
Jake reached over and took the bottle. His flannel shirt sleeve half rolled up still showed his strong forearm that seem to put a gleam in her eye and a grin on her face. 'Pop' went the bottle as the cork released the vacuum. Jake pushed the bottle back towards her.
"Thank you ever so kindly," she said smiling. Her eyes were big and bright. Her hand graced his as she took the bottle and a smile curled across her face.
"No ma'am. I'm sure we have never met before," Jake said as he began to eat his sandwich.
"Do they have the hot pool of water ready?" She asked as she poured the wine into the tilted glass. She put the glass to her nose and swirled the liquid around then sniffed it's aroma.
"Yes ma'am. They've had it ready, but they are still building the mesquite skirting." Jake finished his sandwich in one big bite and crumpled up his sack. Gripped his beverage and stood up.
"So I can sit in it then?" She asked just before taking a small sip from the glass.
