Through the Eyes of Prendle

Chapter 1: The Visit

Prendle's palms were hot and sweaty. Her heart beat wildly, like a drum in her chest, as she exited her car. The drive over to the Franks's house had not taken long. She could have walked if she hadn't been so on edge. Her nerves were working on her. Her mouth was bone dry, and if she stopped moving, her knees would knock. She swallowed hard. She hated not knowing what Arielle's reaction was going to be. How should she even tell her? Should she blurt it out or start from the beginning?

She decided she would work that out once she was inside. She gathered her courage as she journeyed to the front door. Arielle's home was one of the nicer ones in Marshlyn, with a gorgeous flower garden in the back and a white picket fence around the front. There was a hole where the gate should have been, just an open space anyone could walk through.

Prendle took a deep breath as she trudged up the concrete walkway and ascended the stairs to the porch. There were hanging baskets of flowers and elegant plants stationed between the two sets of furniture that decorated it. There was also a swing on the far end, where the happy couple probably spent their evenings sometimes. The thought made her smile for a split second. She wanted this kind of existence one day. It was all a very quaint and serene sight to behold with the naked eye.

After another deep breath, Prendle finally walked up to the door. She knocked so they would hear her, even though her heart screamed for her to run in the other direction. A part of her feared this was not going to go well. A few seconds passed before anyone came to the door. She figured they were probably on the other side of the house, judging by the length of time that had passed. Of course, as nervous as she was, mere seconds seemed like ten minutes.

When the door finally opened, she expected to see Arielle standing there. Instead, it was a man with dark, curly hair. Prendle assumed this man was Arielle's husband, Richard. She had never seen him before today, but because Ariele talked about him constantly, she felt she already knew him.

"Can I help you?" he asked. He must have thought Prendle was a saleswoman or another type of solicitor; he sounded annoyed, and his left eyebrow raised suspiciously.

She just stood there and stared at him for a moment. She was so apprehensive she couldn't help it. She had no idea what to say to him. Finally, she decided her best bet was a kind gesture. With that thought in mind, Prendle's lips spread into a smile.

"Yes. Sorry. I'm looking for Arielle. Is she home?"

"And who might you be?" he asked politely.

"I'm Prendle Rose. I manage Southlyn Hotel."

A flash of recognition came across his face. "Oh. Okay. Arielle has mentioned you once or twice."  He stepped to the side, his suspicion melting away. "I'm her husband, Richard. Please come in."

"Thank you," she told him. She walked inside.

Richard closed the door behind her, studying her curiously. His wife had only mentioned they talked at the bank. She hadn't said she would be stopping by. Nevertheless, he led her toward the living room, where Arielle was relaxing.

Prendle couldn't believe the interior decorations and how gorgeous they were. The house, decorated in blue, silver, and black, looked as if it jumped from the pages of a magazine. Candles adorned the walls, and butterflies, dragonflies, and Celtic designs. It was beautiful. It was hard for her to focus on where she was going.

When they reached the living room, she was even more impressed. Elaborate bookcases lined one whole side of the room. A couch sat against the wall with two chairs off to the right. On the left were the entertainment center and the television. Arielle sat in one of the chairs, the remote in her hand, flipping through channels. Her eyes were glued to the screen.