The Devils Of Thornbrook

Chapter Forty One

My grandparents home was in the farthest north area of Scarsdale where they had lived through most of my life.

Pulling on my Balenciaga's I grabbed a knee length coat, and grabbed the key to my G-Wagon, before slipping into the elevator and heading down to the garage level. I actually didn't have that many vehicles that were meant for driving in the winter but I also seemed to manage whenever snow was bad in New York.

When the doors opened I walked out spinning the key and unlocked my car before slipping inside, and starting the engine which shook the SUV slightly. I then pulled out of the garage, and headed off towards Scarsdale.

Leaving the city I began to be surrounded by trees and suburban areas blanketed in thicker snow, as Manhattan was plowed continually in winter.

It was actually kind of funny to me that my family name was Winters and it was all of our favourite season.

Most people hated it and for fair reasons. Shovelling, and snow blowing every few days, and blistering temperatures. But snowfall, blizzards, and all the things that people thought of when family and winter are pictured those were our family's reason for enjoying it so much.

Leaning on the window sill of my car door I let out a sigh as I drove up into Scarsdale. The town had an older styling to it with Tudor styling to many of the buildings, and it actually reminded me of what most people would likely picture as a traditional German or Austrian town.

People walked the sidewalks bundled up in coats, and there were even some kids using the snow piles that graters would have helped make as sledding hills.

Leaving the actually township area the surrounding area changed into residential gated areas and I was beginning to realize that even though it was like that this was still a family area that didn't carry the same pretentiousness of the Hamptons or Midtown.

Shows that the Winters will forever be connected to the spending spree of former generations.

When I finally got to the gates of my grandparents house I slowed, and pulled into the driveway to park next to the fountain in the middle of the motor court.

Shutting off the engine, I then pushed open the door that dinged at me, before closing it and grabbing my duffle bag out of the back seat of my G-Wagon, and walking to the front steps of the Colonial style home surrounded by cherry trees whose branches carried snow that sparkled as if imbedded with diamonds in the morning sun.

Knocking on the door of the house I stood watching my breath leave my mouth in clouds then vanish into the air in front of me counting them as I waited.

When the door opened I was met by my salt and pepper haired grandma whose light grey eyes were covered by a pair of glasses.

"Hi Nathan" she says opening her arms and I walk into them to hug her.

"It's good to see you grandma" I say being careful not to hug her to tightly as I would feel terrible if I hurt anyone while hugging them.

"Where is grandpa?" I ask when she lets go of me and I step inside to shut the door.

"He's in the guest cottage he's been setting it up for you all day" my grandma says walking off to the living room.

The interior of the house had white walls with dark wooden flooring, and lots of photographs hung in frames around the house.

"I could have done it myself" I laugh.

"I told him you'd say that" my grandma says as I take off my coat and hang it in the closet before pushing my shoes into the corner and walking through the house into the living room.

Looking out of the back window of the home I spotted the guest cottage which was a smaller version of the house that my grandparents lived in.

It had been a present from my parents to them around a year after they had gotten married, and was something that they had wanted to do for them. So now they lived out here doing their own thing retired, and living off of pension.

And a portion of money my mom gave them for supporting her when she moved away from neurology to join my dad in the business world.

As I spotted my grandpa who had just left the cottage, I walked into the kitchen to get water, and went back into the living room.

A moment later he walked into the room and I walked over to give him a hug, he was still as well built as he had been when younger, and didn't really seem to have aged much though that was also a relatively common occurrence in my family.

"Good to see you" he says patting me on the back before letting me go.

"I got that cottage all set up for you, I'll be in the kitchen making dinner shouldn't be any longer then an hour" my grandpa says and I nod before picking up my bag and hauling it to the back door before realizing I need my shoes. So I ended up walking back across the house and carried them to the back door where I slid them on and took the bag out off to the guest house.

Pushing open the door to the cottage I took off my shoes once again, and began looking around the eight room cottage that was pretty much just a small home, or at least a small house by what I was used to.

The interior had cream walls with brown leather furniture, and dark wooden flooring, along with granite in certain rooms like bathrooms and the kitchen.

Overall it felt like the kind of place that a group of well off college students would live in, just without the memorabilia of famous rappers, and sports teams.

I then walked upstairs to one of the three bedrooms and dropped my bag at the end of the bed before going over to the window and looking outside, it all looked peaceful, which was one of the amazing things about coming here.

After spending years in the city it made sense why my grandparents were so keen on the idea of living here away from New York and all the fast paced work that millions of people did just to get by.

I remember coming here about once every few months or whenever my parents went away on business trips over sea's this was where my sisters and I would go. Often we would all end up having large pancake breakfasts together, or go quadding, or boating.

They were the activities I enjoyed and didn't really wish to have be separated from normal people. Money didn't make any of us more special then anyone else, and at the end of the day we were all going to die, so why not enjoy the time that was given to us.

I had actually thought about my colleges more too, going to Harvard was the obvious choice because it meant going to a school that promised to fit well in the expectations of the son of Adrian Winters however I wasn't entirely sure, and I knew my parents wouldn't bother me since I would be using my own money to go to university I just had to be certain by the time Spring Break came so I could send off my applications.

Walking over to my bag I opened it and pulled out my laptop since I knew that if I worked on something I'd end up passing more time.

Opening my coding center I started to work on the security portion of my software program but I had been sure to not use any public lines of code as I knew that if I got hacked it wouldn't be hard to get past that.

Nearly two hours later I had completed several hundred lines of code that now when ran through a simulation would stop someone or a virus at the fifth and third walls respectively.

"I've never seen someone who could sit and do one thing for so long" my grandpa says poking his head into my room.

"Weren't you an accountant, isn't it sort of the same thing as me writing lines of code?" I puzzle.

"I suppose so, come on dinner's ready" he says walking off as I shut down the program, and closed the laptop before following him downstairs and back into the house.

Walking inside I kicked off my shoes and went into the dining room which continued the houses theme before helping to set the table and get everything that we would need before joining my grandparents at the table, and began to dig in.


First chapter of Nathan in Scarsdale I don't know how many chapters of it I will be willing to write but guess we'll find out, comment, vote, and share. Anyways

Peace✌