The car that drove up to the main house didn't linger long, dropping off its passenger and pulling away, to leave him standing alone on the walkway, feeling a little out of place. The trip through the portal had gone as well as it could, but had been followed by a day's worth of sickness those who weren't accustomed to such means of travel sometimes encountered. Miranda had sent him straight to bed to sleep it off, and when he'd awoken the next morning, he'd felt almost like his old self again. He'd showered, dressed, and had breakfast before Miranda had ushered him into a car, briefing him on what to expect upon his arrival at the big house. She had declined accompanying him inside, telling him this was something he had to do for and by himself. And there he was, standing alone, suitcase in hand, looking up at the main house on the grounds of Maple Grove - a place that reminded me of the Kennedy Compound - the facade all decked out in Christmas cheer, though he wasn't feeling all that cheerful.
As had become the custom over the years, the main door of the house stood open, spilling warm light out into the chilly morning. That wasn't the only thing that spilled out, either - a hearty male laugh echoed from somewhere further inside, overlapping a younger feminine chuckle, and the loud, unguided exclamation of a baby not yet old enough to know what was loud and what wasn't. A member of staff passing through the main hall paused, looking out through the door, and smiled in a friendly manner to the well-dressed man lingering outside. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I, uh..." Des faltered, surprising even himself. The self-assured prosecuting attorney at a sudden loss for words. "I'm Desmond Granger. I'm here to see the Old Man. I assume he's expecting me." He hoped Miranda had given the Old Man a heads up; he didn't want to be responsible for giving anyone a heart attack, especially this close to the holidays. He started up the path toward the stairs and the front door, suitcase in hand. Overhearing the sound of laughter coming from inside the house, he paused, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Is it a bad time?"
The woman's face lit up with a happy smile. "Oh, Mr Desmond, of course!" she declared - evidently he was expected, and had been for some time. "Oh, please come in, sir. Not a bad time at all - Mr Humphrey's in a good mood today. Miss Caroline brought her little boy 'round to see him, and that always perks him right up." She ushered him inside warmly. "Bit of advice, sir," she offered in a lower tone, reaching out to take his suitcase from him. "If he pushes, push back. He likes it when people don't let him get away with being a grumpy old sod, if you'll excuse my familiarity, sir." She grinned cheerfully, and gestured along the hall to where a door stood open. "Right this way, Mr Desmond, I'll announce you."
He followed her inside the house, his head turning to casually observe his surroundings. It seemed like a nice enough place to live, warm and inviting with all the comforts of home - a mansion almost fit for a king, or a very well-to-do businessman, which was closer to the truth. "Thank you," he replied, allowing her to take his suitcase, somewhat accustomed to being waited on here and there by those who were generously reimbursed to do so. Once his hands were free, he shoved them into his pants pockets and glanced up at the paintings and decorations that adorned his surroundings.
The woman left his suitcase at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, moving to knock politely on the open door through which the sound of laughing conversation and something hard being rapped off something wooden could be heard. "Mr Granger, sir?" Her voice faded off as she stepped inside, but she was back within a minute, offering Desmond another of her warm smiles. "Just you slip right in, sir. I'll get Hannah to set another place for lunch."
"Thank you," he replied again, assuming Hannah was another servant. He withdrew his hands from his pockets and smoothed a hand across the tie at his shirt front, before shoving a hand through his hair in a slightly nervous gesture. First impressions were everything, and he hoped he'd make a good one, not that it mattered. This was all just to get Miranda off his back, after all. In another week or so, he'd be back in Manhattan and all this would be so much dust swept under the carpet. Deeming himself as ready as he was ever going to be, he stepped into the doorway, rapping his knuckles against the door and clearing his throat to announce his arrival.
"Come in!" The voice that called to him was the male, still hale despite his advancing years. If first impressions were everything, then Desmond was about to get a first impression that masked the real power in the family. As he came inside, he was presented with the sight of Humphrey Granger, the head of the family, chuckling and bouncing a baby boy on his knee, wrestling with the child to get his pipe back. Sat on the floor nearby was Caroline, the current CEO of the business, laughing at the playful wrestling and battling with the world's biggest diaper bag. They did not, however, look like the two most influential members of the family.
He looked between the pair, noting with carefully observant blue eyes that seemed almost exactly like his late father's the child on the man's lap and the woman on the floor nearby and putting two and two together. Though she had dropped a few names, Miranda had not really prepared him for this. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?" he asked, for the second time since arriving, this time to the people who really mattered. The man he figured he could handle, and women had never really been a problem, but the baby gave him a little discomfort. He hoped he wasn't going to be asked to change any diapers while there.
"Of course you are, my boy, that's what family does," Humphrey declared cheerfully, not even glancing up. He could always been relied upon to forget everything but the very basic of his best manners when presented with a child, which was probably why Caroline had chosen this morning to bring Jack for a visit.
Caroline herself looked up from where she was finishing with the bag, offering Desmond a warmer, gentler smile. "Come in, Desmond," she told him. "I promise I don't bite, and those two don't have any teeth to do any damage."
There was a mildly disgruntled "hmph!" from the Old Man, followed by a loud, wet burp from the baby in his arms, which made him laugh. Shaking her head, Caroline rose onto her feet, offering her cousin her hand. "I'm Caroline," she introduced herself. "Exhibit A is Jack, my son, dribbling all over Exhibit B, who'll answer to Humphrey, Humph, or Grampa."
It struck Desmond that humph was the sound that Humph had made, but he kept his inner commentary to himself for now. He stepped into the room, reaching across a polite distance to wrap his fingers around Caroline's hand. If the Rolex that peeked out from beneath his shirt sleeve was any indication, he wasn't hurting for money. "Pleasure. I'd like to say I've heard a lot about you, but I'm afraid Miranda dropped me off on the doorstep without much preparation."
As had become the custom over the years, the main door of the house stood open, spilling warm light out into the chilly morning. That wasn't the only thing that spilled out, either - a hearty male laugh echoed from somewhere further inside, overlapping a younger feminine chuckle, and the loud, unguided exclamation of a baby not yet old enough to know what was loud and what wasn't. A member of staff passing through the main hall paused, looking out through the door, and smiled in a friendly manner to the well-dressed man lingering outside. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I, uh..." Des faltered, surprising even himself. The self-assured prosecuting attorney at a sudden loss for words. "I'm Desmond Granger. I'm here to see the Old Man. I assume he's expecting me." He hoped Miranda had given the Old Man a heads up; he didn't want to be responsible for giving anyone a heart attack, especially this close to the holidays. He started up the path toward the stairs and the front door, suitcase in hand. Overhearing the sound of laughter coming from inside the house, he paused, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Is it a bad time?"
The woman's face lit up with a happy smile. "Oh, Mr Desmond, of course!" she declared - evidently he was expected, and had been for some time. "Oh, please come in, sir. Not a bad time at all - Mr Humphrey's in a good mood today. Miss Caroline brought her little boy 'round to see him, and that always perks him right up." She ushered him inside warmly. "Bit of advice, sir," she offered in a lower tone, reaching out to take his suitcase from him. "If he pushes, push back. He likes it when people don't let him get away with being a grumpy old sod, if you'll excuse my familiarity, sir." She grinned cheerfully, and gestured along the hall to where a door stood open. "Right this way, Mr Desmond, I'll announce you."
He followed her inside the house, his head turning to casually observe his surroundings. It seemed like a nice enough place to live, warm and inviting with all the comforts of home - a mansion almost fit for a king, or a very well-to-do businessman, which was closer to the truth. "Thank you," he replied, allowing her to take his suitcase, somewhat accustomed to being waited on here and there by those who were generously reimbursed to do so. Once his hands were free, he shoved them into his pants pockets and glanced up at the paintings and decorations that adorned his surroundings.
The woman left his suitcase at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, moving to knock politely on the open door through which the sound of laughing conversation and something hard being rapped off something wooden could be heard. "Mr Granger, sir?" Her voice faded off as she stepped inside, but she was back within a minute, offering Desmond another of her warm smiles. "Just you slip right in, sir. I'll get Hannah to set another place for lunch."
"Thank you," he replied again, assuming Hannah was another servant. He withdrew his hands from his pockets and smoothed a hand across the tie at his shirt front, before shoving a hand through his hair in a slightly nervous gesture. First impressions were everything, and he hoped he'd make a good one, not that it mattered. This was all just to get Miranda off his back, after all. In another week or so, he'd be back in Manhattan and all this would be so much dust swept under the carpet. Deeming himself as ready as he was ever going to be, he stepped into the doorway, rapping his knuckles against the door and clearing his throat to announce his arrival.
"Come in!" The voice that called to him was the male, still hale despite his advancing years. If first impressions were everything, then Desmond was about to get a first impression that masked the real power in the family. As he came inside, he was presented with the sight of Humphrey Granger, the head of the family, chuckling and bouncing a baby boy on his knee, wrestling with the child to get his pipe back. Sat on the floor nearby was Caroline, the current CEO of the business, laughing at the playful wrestling and battling with the world's biggest diaper bag. They did not, however, look like the two most influential members of the family.
He looked between the pair, noting with carefully observant blue eyes that seemed almost exactly like his late father's the child on the man's lap and the woman on the floor nearby and putting two and two together. Though she had dropped a few names, Miranda had not really prepared him for this. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?" he asked, for the second time since arriving, this time to the people who really mattered. The man he figured he could handle, and women had never really been a problem, but the baby gave him a little discomfort. He hoped he wasn't going to be asked to change any diapers while there.
"Of course you are, my boy, that's what family does," Humphrey declared cheerfully, not even glancing up. He could always been relied upon to forget everything but the very basic of his best manners when presented with a child, which was probably why Caroline had chosen this morning to bring Jack for a visit.
Caroline herself looked up from where she was finishing with the bag, offering Desmond a warmer, gentler smile. "Come in, Desmond," she told him. "I promise I don't bite, and those two don't have any teeth to do any damage."
There was a mildly disgruntled "hmph!" from the Old Man, followed by a loud, wet burp from the baby in his arms, which made him laugh. Shaking her head, Caroline rose onto her feet, offering her cousin her hand. "I'm Caroline," she introduced herself. "Exhibit A is Jack, my son, dribbling all over Exhibit B, who'll answer to Humphrey, Humph, or Grampa."
It struck Desmond that humph was the sound that Humph had made, but he kept his inner commentary to himself for now. He stepped into the room, reaching across a polite distance to wrap his fingers around Caroline's hand. If the Rolex that peeked out from beneath his shirt sleeve was any indication, he wasn't hurting for money. "Pleasure. I'd like to say I've heard a lot about you, but I'm afraid Miranda dropped me off on the doorstep without much preparation."