The Merry Gathering at Wilford Manor - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Perfect House for the Perfect Party

Mrs. Julie Steinberg did not complain too much when her husband forced her to move to the small town of Brenneville outside of Rochester for his work, and she did not complain when she had to leave her society friends behind to live in the sticks because those kinds of friends could always be replaced, but she would be damned if she was going to give up the style of living she was accustomed to. Their home in New York had been satisfactory but in this new place with all of this open space Mrs. Steinberg demanded that the new house be bigger, grander and more . . . her. If that meant her husband would have to build her a home than so be it. Little did Mrs. Steinberg know when they arrived in Brenneville that the perfect home was waiting for her. A towering masterpiece with twenty gables, painted balustrades, countless bay windows and balconies the manor waiting for Mrs. Steinberg was more than anything she could have ever hoped for and grander than anything she could have built. And it wanted her. It whispered to her of a future of fond memories and security. It promised to be a home she could enjoy, a home of luxury and one that could secure her status. After all, that’s what the previous mistress of the house had intended.

The Wilford Manor had sat quietly for near one hundred and twenty years. Built by a surly man named Preston Wilford in the 1880’s when the area had been predominantly farm lands it was meant for quiet and peace. An escape from the big city and a place to breath in fresh air – a place where his youngest daughter could heal in peace. His wife Anya designed this sprawling manor in spite of Preston. She spared no expense determined to make her husband literally pay for moving her and their three daughters Evelyn, Marjorie and Lucille to this nowhere. No one had lived in the house after the Wilford’s and the manor had become grossly overgrown. Spiders and mice (and other unmentionables) had taken up residence in the once glorious home and the vast lawn had become a veritable jungle. Weeds and wildflowers now grew where carefully planned roses had once gone, the shrubbery was crawling its way up the east side of the manor like an enormous arm, and there were more critters hiding in the underbrush than in the house. It had taken months to get the home back in living condition and then even longer to get it up to Mrs. Steinberg’s standards. Once the house had been cleaned the lot had been deforested and landscaped and Mrs. Steinberg had immediately hired a crew to update the plumbing, electric, and put in cable and internet. Her husband and son were insistent that this be done before they step foot across the threshold. Not one to disappoint Mrs. Steinberg told her crew to jump to though the hired men were jumpy enough about having to actually be inside of the house. 

She had envisioned a magnificent Halloween party to open the house with. A ball full of raucous laughter, masquerade costumes and naughty shadow play but unfortunately for Mrs. Steinberg the house was not ready. And it wasn’t ready for Thanksgiving either. Her only hope was that it would be ready for a gigantic, completely over the top Christmas party and it had been a close call. There was still paint drying in some of the rooms on the third floor, the old things in the attic hadn’t even been touched yet, mice traps still hid in the dark corners of the kitchen and servant quarters and there was still much unpacking to do on the upper floors where no guests would journey. Or so she hoped – one never knew what would happen during wild holiday parties with flowing alcohol and mistletoe. It already seemed like strange things were happening around the new house. Things kept getting misplaced or dropped to the floor. But this was a new place and Mrs. Steinberg assumed once the staff knew the house better these mishaps would end.

The day had finally arrived. The caterer had been busy setting up for the ball all day, the florist had covered every available space with full and vibrant arrangements and Mrs. Steinberg herself had helped the decorator make the front parlor, the dining hall and the ballroom into a whimsical winter wonderland. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything. Her husband was sulking up in his office and her son Gabe was nowhere to be found. That boy was always such a nuisance. She thought he would be happy that she had invited all of his friends from New York. She huffed because he should have been here to greet them. Why did she always have to do everything?

The doorbell rang and Mrs. Steinberg took in a deep breath. She let her nerves fall away before she welcomed her first guest to her merry gathering at Wilford Manor.  

Look next Monday for Chapter 2: The Broken Mirror