As the car hummed along the road, Jerome inhaled lightly. The name he had discarded, now found its way back into his life. He knew all along, he had to finish what he started. Into the distant long road, he put a stop to the car on arriving at a low fenced gate. Jerome pressed down on a buzzer that stood tall just beside the gate along the drive through.
"Full name please?"
"Jeremy Lutman"
There was a pause, the gates flung open "Good-day Sir"
The car accelerated into the road now filled with trees on each side. The large estate with an old large house afar off. Through the hedges, across the fountain and at a corner of the house, the gate to the garage laid bare.
Into the garage, Jerome noticed the house had visitors. In almost every corned stood a car or two ranging from sports cars to trucks, the whole fleet in it. Jerome gazed and drove over at a suited corner, a distance away from the clustering before stepping out and heading out of the garage.
'Breathe' he thought as he stood at the front porch of the large house. With every passing second, he could feel the winds hit against the smalls of his skin along with a warm silence he greatly pleasured.
'Click- 'The double door opened as Jerome twisted the knob and pushed forward.
'Clack' The same door shut behind him and he knew it was time to walk into the past, walk into the name, 'Jeremy'.
The entrance, overseeing a long but narrow lobby wafted an uninviting air. He still never felt welcomed.
Clean oriental cashmere carpets laid flat against polished oak floors. Rough yet patterned armchairs sat at the left corner of the lobby in two's, facing each other while large windows overlooked the garden on the right.
A little further into the room sat an outstretched painting that took up the volume of the wall on every side, a table at its side held up a matching tea set in a tray most familiar to Jeremy. A teapot for tea, the other for coffee, flat bowl of wrapped sugar or sweetened milk. Stylized miniature cutleries wrapped in patterned napkins, a box of small, damp paper towels and lastly a wide bowl of French sweets and candies.
Nothing had changed.
"Jerry" a raspy and hoarse voice called "Jerry, is that you, my boy?"
The gaps in his breath told Jeremy how old and fickle the man had become. Jeremy, that was who he was now.
"Yes" he paused "Its Jeremy grandpa" lightly, he strode towards the old man who sat on a wheelchair, along the lobby, alone.
The old man giggled unsteadily, pushing his way forward.
"How have you been?" Jeremy asked going on one knee, meeting with the eyes of the old man.
"Jolly and you?"
"Mmm" he nodded with a faint smile.
The old man watched as the young man, still a boy in his eyes, held unto his frail hands. Though they sat in silence, he had longed for this moment.
"I remember" the old man began "I remember just a little, when you were just about 8 years of age or thereabout" he coughed lightly, "You had just returned from school quiet and gloomy and I asked how you were" he paused in a wide smile "Do you remember what you said?"
Jeremy shook his head.
"Jolly and you?" suddenly the old man burst into a bubbly laugh riddled with light coughs and periodic wheezing.
At the corner of Jeremy's eyes, an unfamiliar face came running over to them in mild panic.
"Sir, I understand your excitement but how did you get so far away from me?"
The young lady whose gaze fell worriedly on the laughing old man bent over, her breathe shaky and slow. In a short second, she turned and acknowledged Jeremy's presence
"My apologies sir, I was with him and he had only left my attention for a split second, I promise this to never happen again"
Jeremy stood to his feet. The guilt in her voice was clear that this was at least one of her first few days in this job. The old man held unto Jeremy's fingers
"You've always been a good boy" he paused, his eyes teary and voice shaky "You've always been my boy" tears fell from his eyes and to Jeremy, he could not tell. Couldn't feel.
"My apologies sir but Mr. Ludwig has to rest and take his noon drugs so could you please excuse us"
Jeremy stepped aside and slowly, the old man's grip slipped from his fingers as the lady strode off with him.
With slow steps, Jeremy looked around him in the unfamiliar yet nostalgic house he stood in. Three, two, one, he stopped at the entrance to a door and looked up.
Pans, trays, trolleys, pots, serving dishes of fine China, aluminum. Isles and cupboards of polished oak, dry floors and chiseled roofs, the same kitchen he had ran in and out of as a child.
Amidst the busy fuzziness of the chefs and maids, he noticed many unfamiliar faces. On the spot, he stood still before a young chef walked towards him.
"Welcome sir, are you in need of any assistance?"
"A quarter sized cake please, a little bitter sweet, some alcohol or thereabout" He nodded
"Give us a minute or two, your cake will be on the way"
He nodded and watched the young boy straddle along. Silent and watchful, Jeremy watched the heads in the kitchen hover about. They were likely on their toes as a great many people seemed to occupy the house at the moment.
"Could you excuse me?"
Jeremy turned to the voice behind him as he stepped aside and suddenly a charming yet unattractive young lady walked past him and into the kitchen. At that moment, Jeremy realized the meaning of that unfamiliar feeling in the nostalgic house.
Shortly, the young chef came over with a tray which held up a saucer and a cake according to his description. Jeremy took out the saucer and walked away.
Sugar was a necessary increment to ease his nerves and give him the comfort he desired.
Straight passed doors, a small hall, a turn curve and down the hallway stood a large door every member of the family familiarized themselves with. The South Wing Hall. For every meeting, family, business. For every event, official, unofficial. This was the place established as a rule kept for generations, an unspoken rule, non-negotiable. Everyone obeyed.