A dog barks when Ben sticks the key in the door. Huh, that’s interesting. He’s never said anything about having to go home and let a dog out.
“Settle down, Harumi,” he says when he opens the door. A yellow lab shakes her tail so hard her whole body is wiggling. She wildly greets Ben like she hasn’t seen him for days, then comes over to me. “She’s very friendly,” he says with a smile. “She’ll lick you to death.”
I bend over, heavy purse falling forward. I drop it on the floor and pet the dog—Harumi, I think Ben called her. “You smell my kitty, don’t you?” I ask as she presses her nose all over me and inhales. “He’s going to smell you and be mad at me. But that’s okay. He’s an asshole anyway. It’ll serve him right.”
Ben holds the back door open and calls the dog out to go potty. I pick up my purse and look around. We entered in through a mud room. A washer, dryer, and ironing board are on one side, with a stack of neatly folded towels on top of the dryer. The other side houses a shoe rack. Most of the shoes are Ben’s, but I spot a few that belong to a woman. A woman with small feet, to be exact.
I take my shoes off and go through the mudroom, which emerges into a large kitchen. The cabinets and granite countertops are white, contrasting with the dark wooden floor. The backsplash above the sink looks like stained glass, no doubt handmade by Ben. Everything is neat and orderly, looking like something from a magazine. There is an oval breakfast table by a large window that looks out to the back porch. I can see Ben toss a ball for Harumi in the small yard.
I set my purse on a chair and stand by the breakfast table, watching Ben for a few seconds before turning to look at more of the house. I’m assuming the woodwork is all original, including the ornate crown molding. I can see a large dining room with a big table off of the kitchen, and a living room to the other side.
The house has that old feel to it, but it’s clean and smells like paint, which automatically reminds me of Ben and makes my heart go pitter-patter (and my insides tingle). I want to look around the rest of the house, channeling my inner Winchester and check it out for spirits, but don’t want to be rude.
Just then, the door opens and Harumi runs in, followed by Ben.
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” I say, petting the overly excited lab.
“Yeah,” he says. “She’s an easy keeper. She’s ten, don’t let her spastic behavior fool you, and sleeps a lot.”
“Awww, she looks good for ten!”
“Thanks,” he says and runs his hands over the dog’s head.
“This is one of the coolest houses I’ve ever been in,” I say and look around. “I love old houses.”
“They have character,” he tells me. “Want a tour?”
I eagerly nod. We go through the kitchen in the dining room. I recognize the artwork as Ben’s right away. I can’t really say he has a style, because everything is so different. But there is something so irrevocably him about it.
The dining room opens to the foyer, with a grand staircase front and center. It’s U-shaped, with a balcony looking down from the second floor. On the other side is a fancy living room, set up with period appropriate furniture and lots of bookshelves. The other living room that I saw through the kitchen is completely modern, and feels almost out of place. There’s a small bathroom tucked away near the basement stairs, and a sunroom in the back of the house. It has easels and other art supplies set up, with paint splattered cloths draped over the floor. The smell of paint is strong in here.
“I try to do most of my work at the studio,” he says. “But I bring work home with me.” He gives me a smile and turns to take me upstairs.
There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms up here. There must have been more bedroom at one point, because the master bathroom is so big I’m sure it used to be an entirely separate room.
“This is my room,” Ben says and waves his hand to his side. I peek in. This room is modern and normal too. Well, normal but still impressive. The bed is lazily made and there is a pile of laundry on the window seat, and a few dog toys on the floor. A stack of papers clutters his desk, burying his laptop, and the top drawer of his dresser isn’t closed all the way.
This looks more like the Ben I know.
“We’ll see more of that later,” he adds. “That’s a guest room that Harumi has taken over, a bathroom, and another bedroom. And that’s it.”
“It’s huge and really pretty,” I say, noticing that the last bedroom’s door is closed. If it’s just a guest room, he doesn’t need to show me it, really. But the other doors are open, so it seems odd … as well as his “art room” and his bedroom being messy like his office yet the rest of the house is spic-and-span. And I really want to know who took care of his dog when he spent the night at my house last weekend.