The Sun

Moving In

Jackson’s Condominium was beautiful. It was very modern and had every convenience money could buy squeezed right into the building. The main floor held a convenience store, a laundry mat, a pool, a gym and two recreation courts. One court was for basketball and badminton and one for tennis and squash. The basketball court had a track that surrounded the outer court for jogging enthusiasts. The whole thing was on an air filtered central air type configuration. I was awed by its grandeur.

He told me that his condo was called a walkout, meaning that it had a rooftop garden instead of a patio. “Mine is a two-story model with upper and lower roof gardens. The building design is unique in that every other condo had either a patio balcony or a rooftop.”  He explained as the elevator doors opened. “It is surprising that such a large building only houses eight condos on each floor.” The doors slid closed silently. He pressed the top floor button. “They were priced according to the layout of the condo.”  He continued.

We walked a short way down the hall.
Jackson stopped in front of a set of double doors with a black 24 off to the side.  Unlocking the door he kept up an informative monologue as he took my hand and led me through his home. “The entrance opens onto a massive foyer.” He said without conceit. He pushed the doors wide and said softly. “Welcome to my home.”  Jackson waited quietly as I looked all around. I took in every detail. The floor was done in stone the color of wet sand. The base boards where a pale sand and the walls a stone blue. A narrow strip carpet in the same blue but faded to a lighter shade ran from the door to the entrance of the living room. One wall formed the hallway. Along it evenly spaced were five stone plaques, three by two feet in assorted shapes. They were each one a symbol of the elements done in white with the relief work done in a pale rose.

Along the other wall sat a rectangular black cast iron scroll table. The glass had been replaced with a two-inch thick slab of wood.  The matching mirror hung a few inches above the table. I slid one finger across the smooth aged wood. On either side of the table sat beautiful white stone potbelly stoves, nestled in ornate cast iron frames with curling feet. Just past them was a curving staircase that led to the second floor. The wall held three large identical frames in chocolate brown with off white mats. The pictures were coal sketches of an old traveler, a villa and the ocean. They were washed in pale color.

I turned slowly in a circle trying to take it all in. He took my hand again and led me up the plush thickly carpeted stairs. “The carpet color is Mocha. Not all the rooms are carpeted” he said “but those that are were all done in this color for uniformity.” I laughed. I wanted to ask if he was as rich as this place made it seem but instead I said. “You sound like an interior decorator.”  He chuckled. “No. My mother holds that distinction in my family. She is the one who helped me to pull this place together. I guess I just picked up some of the lingo”.

The upstairs held Jackson’s room, a simply huge room with very large pieces that would hold his large frame in comfort and with ease.  There was also a large bathroom, and a fair sized sitting room that he was using as his office and that led out to the smaller of the roof gardens. It over looked the larger one and mirrored its beauty. The entire floor was done in varying shades of blues and greens and offset by an array of whites. It was simple but elegant.

  Once back in the foyer he led me through the hall and into the living room. It was bright and airy due to one wall being almost entirely glass. I felt my jaw drop open and heard Jackson’s satisfied grunt. He had been watching for my reaction. My cheeks colored with embarrassment. I felt so uncouth, like I had never seen luxury before. In my own defense I couldn’t remember if I had! Lighten up you silly goose! I mentally kicked myself. You could at least act like you have some class! I schooled my features and looked around.

Jackson squeezed my hand and urged me on. It was a big wide room that held two groupings of furniture. The first was just past the hall to the right. It was a more formal setting.  There was a long sofa in stark white with square cushions in dark Payne’s gray (a Smokey blue). On either side were little tables that each held a beautiful glass lamp in cloudy white. Above the couch on the wall was a massive painting that I recognized as the view from his cabin. It was a winter scene and picked up the different shades of blue and white in the décor. The greens were echoed in the plants that spotted the room. “My sister Christine painted it.” He offered.

“It’s very well done.”  I said.  I was very impressed. The over stuffed loveseat opposite was covered in the same dark Payne’s gray and had thick velvety white cushions on it. It was big and fat and just my style. There were two wing back chairs off to the side of the sofa. They were white with embroidered cream and blue flowers and green foliage. A heavy narrow wood table separated the sofa and chairs. The walls were the color of brown hen’s eggs.

The kitchen was around the corner. An island and four dark stools separated it from the other room. Once around it the view was stunning! It looked just like a professional kitchen. “Oh Jackson” I breathed. “It is amazing. You have such a beautiful home! How do you ever stand to leave it?” 

He let go of my hand. He looked very well pleased. I could see that he was very proud of his home.

“Thank you” he said in a deep rumble.

I let my eyes take in the dark gray slate floors, soft stone wash walls and black counter tops. The double sink, fridge and stove were all stainless steel. A low hanging pot rack was filled with shiny stainless steel pots, pans, strainers and hanging utensils. A row of chef’s knives in a chopping block sat on one side of the counter. A huge one-inch thick wooden cutting board two feet long by one foot wide sat on the other side.

There was tons of cupboard space. The far wall was one big built in pantry unit. Little patio lights were strung low along the entire ceiling and they cast a comforting glow over the room. At intervals along the lights were thick cast iron sconces. Fresh dried herbs and braided garlic hung from hooks above the Cook’s Rack against the wall. It held several bottles of wine and glasses as well as some larger pottery pieces. He pulled a bottle from the rack and set two glasses out on the small black granite bistro that sat in the middle of the room. It had black cast iron chairs with red cushions on them. On the table was a pretty glass vase with red dyed sand in it. He lit a candle and let it flicker cheerfully inside it. The bistro probably sat outside in the summer but it still looked great in this room. I stood in front of the double sliding glass doors at the end of the room. I looked out onto the roof garden. Even in winter it was designed for maximum visual pleasure. Textured and colorful it had a layered appeal. He handed me a glass of red wine. “Come on” he said. “Let’s finish your tour before we eat.”

As we passed through to the other side of the living room there was a small side room. There were two comfortable reading chairs in rich creamy suede. Between them sat a small table. It had a second shelf on which was a thick wicker basket filled with magazines. A thick round shag carpet was on the floor in front of the chairs. They sat in front of a floor to ceiling bookshelf. Books and ornaments were artfully placed along the deep shelves. A table sat off to one side and held a computer and a small bookshelf containing office supplies. “Look” he said taking my glass and setting it down on a stone coaster. Most of the wood in the house was a warm dark color that complimented his style perfectly. He took my hand in his again and led me to a section of the bookshelf.  “Feel free to make use of the computer any time day or night. I have a laptop upstairs that I do my work on so you will not be in my way here.” I nodded smiling. He opened a panel that previously appeared to be nothing more than a closed part of the shelf. He grinned like a magician doing a particularly hard trick. He opened the other side too and revealed a stereo and a television.

“For your convenience,” He said grandly.

I laughed. Pulling me along he said “Come on.” 

He continued along around the corner into a large bedroom. It had a private bath and a walk-in closet. It was comfortably furnished with basic furniture in the same warm tone. The walls were a winter wheat.  The bed was in the middle of the room with tables on either side. Each had a small white ceramic reading lamp on it. The spread was a satin olive green with off white sheets and several silk purple and off-white throw pillows. On the hard wood floors were two matching plum colored carpets. They had white flowers and green leaves on them. There were two pictures on the wall had dark wood frames and oil paintings of flowers from which the colors of the room were chosen. This was to be my room during the duration of my stay.
Pulling me into his arms he looked into my eyes. His forehead came to rest on mine. He whispered softly.

“Well…what do you think? Will you be happy here?” He sounded so unsure of himself that my heart melted. I smiled shyly.

“I think so.” 

“Good” He sighed and his lips claimed mine in a gentle kiss. ❤️