Hidden Vices Read Free Page B

placed her hand on Megan’s shoulder and gestured toward their home. “Let’s get you familiar with the house.” She gave Mr. Morse a cold, fixed stare that moved him to silence. Based on Mr. Morse’s reaction, Elizabeth Mack didn’t dole out reprimanding scowls often. He stood at the top of the driveway and looked down at the ground, moving broken gravel around with the tip of his boot like a Catholic schoolboy caught performing a lewd prank.
    Mr. Mack pointed at the garage and offered, “You’ll probably want to park in the upper level. There’s a set of stairs that come out at the bottom. That driveway is impossible to get up even in the smallest amount of snow.”
    â€œEven with a Range Rover?” Megan asked.
    â€œYou can try, but you better hope you have plenty of salt and don’t lose power in the house to light your way; otherwise you’re damn out of luck.”
    â€œDo you lose power a lot during the winter?” Megan asked, trying not to sound too concerned in a I’m a city girl who calls the super for anything and everything under the sun kind of way.
    â€œDon’t know. We’re never here.” He laughed again, but the humor fell short for Megan.
    â€œUh-huh,” Megan said warily.
    He held the side door open. “Welcome to Chez Mack, or as we some times call it, The Macks’ Yacht Club.”
    Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Christ.
    Megan wasn’t sure if she said the sentiment aloud or not.
    â€œWhat do you think?” William and Elizabeth glanced at one another with a smile.
    â€œAh …” Megan was trying with all of her heart not to utter any profanities. With her Irish heritage and a Greek sailor’s mouth, it was a challenge. “It’s …” She raised her hands in the air, wondering if she’d lost all verbal capability.
    â€œPretty fucking awesome, wouldn’t you say?” Mr. Mack blurted out.
    â€œYeah.” She nodded. “Pretty fucking awesome.” On first look out at the lake, Megan felt like she’d just won the lottery.
    The panoramic view was equivalent to a private screening of an IMAX movie titled Lake in Winter . The Macks explained they were on the center of the lake, aptly named the Great Cove. Lake Hopatcong was mostly frozen over with the exception of the area surrounding their boathouse. It’s not that Megan was expecting a pond; she was just surprised at the vastness of the lake: nine miles long. Facing the Macks’ home on the other side of Great Cove were homes and boathouses scattered throughout the landscape surrounded by leafless trees and an air of silence as if they’d entered hibernation. Wind blew over the lake, pushing wintery dust into the air. As Megan soaked in the silent vista, the water surrounding the boathouse began to move.
    â€œOh, don’t mind that. We have a bubbler system on timer in the water. It’s to keep the dock from freezing during the winter,” Mr. Mack said casually.
    Megan nodded. “This must be gorgeous in autumn.”
    Mrs. Mack walked over to remove a picture frame from the fireplace mantel. “Here, this was just a few months ago.”
    New England in autumn on a New Jersey lake , Megan thought.
    Brazilian cherry hardwood floors, warm green walls, and white wainscoting reflecting all the earth elements that winter didn’t allow to be seen comprised Chez Mack’s interior. Megan had, wrongly, shown a bit of ageism toward the Macks prior to arriving. She’d envisioned a house overflowing with tchotchkes and pillows with Life Is Where the Lake Is embroidered on the front. Faux flower baskets and countless candles that would make Yankee want to become Canadian. But while the kitchen was retro, it had a double oven mounted in the wall. From 1953, General Electric, Mrs. Mack mentioned during the tour, which was then followed by a “God Bless America” comment from Mr. Mack in the next