No Children Allowed

Marlton Street. That was all one had to say, and you knew. On Marlton, the sidewalks were immaculate, the houses more elegant, the vehicles more exquisite and the residents, aristocrats of a different kind. Law enforcement was a non-factor in neighborhoods like Crystal Estates. Many still did not register its existence. On Marlton, everyone kept to himself; it was better that way. Mind your business and the sun would continue to illuminate that side of the world. The residents were expertly trained in that regard. Whatever happened at one’s dwelling remained a secret, kept beyond the bowels of death.

On June 13, the polished Rolls Royce pulled up to 17411 Sugar Lane. The widow listed the home, and within two days, sold it to a Ms. Katrissa Martindale. Homeowners never left Marlton Street unless an unfortunate appointment with death occurred. Periodically, it happened. The mansion flaunted a circular brick driveway, flanked by blue wisterias and Oklahoma Redbuds. They arrived by special delivery years prior. Gingerly, she stepped out of the car, the door held ajar by a blonde, debonair driver named Lincoln.

“I think you’re going to love it here.” Lincoln smiled as his emerald eyes glistened in the sunlight. He gently took the lace-covered hand.

“I’m sure I will, dear Lincoln.” She replied. “Now, what can you tell me about this curious place?” She took a moment to devour a panoramic view of her surroundings.

“Well, there’s not much to know. Everyone keeps pretty busy around here. Most are prominent businessmen and women. You know, doctors, lawyers, architects, judges, designers, producers.”

“Are you the driver for all of them?

“No, ma’am. Just four couples and you. They made sure I was assigned to you.” He moved nervously as her inquisitions continued.

“Any children here?” She offered a side glance.

“Ummm…what makes you ask that?”

“Lincoln. Children are what make a town. You mean to tell me there are no children in this place? I saw not one playing when we drove up.”

“Let me help you with your bags. You’ve had a long trip and I know you're exceptionally tired!” He grabbed her gold-rimmed suitcases, hurriedly carried them to the front door, and rang the bell. “Welcome home, ma’am.” He tipped his hat to her and retreated.

***

The Victorian door automatically opened as she placed her key into the lock. Curious at the automaticity of it, she hesitated before entering. Just then, the pale woman stood at the entrance wearing a black and white uniform. The maid, she assumed.

“Welcome, Ms. Martindale. My name is Paula. I worked for Mr. and Mrs. Kensington before he turned ill and passed away suddenly. I now offer my services to you.”

She was a frail white woman with sunken blue eyes. Her steps were somewhat feeble, but it tickled Katrissa to know that in Marlton, the tables were turned.

“I asked Lincoln, and got no response, so I will ask you. Are there any children here?”

“Are you hungry, ma’am? I just made some lamb chops. I heard they were your favorite.”

“Heard?” she laughed. “From whom? I don’t know anyone here. But I’ve recently discovered a lot about this town,” Katrissa informed her.

“Oh? I have no idea how that is possible. Our affairs here are intentionally discreet. As you will soon note, we have no daily paper, no police officers, or courthouse, because there is seldom any news to report nor any trouble to be had.”

“Hmph. Is that right? It looks like Katrissa is here to shake up this town then!” She kicked off her heels that Paula immediately swiped and tucked under her arm. She would properly deposit them later.

“Are you hungry? I can get that meal ready for you?”

“Sure. I’m starving. And when you get a moment?” She pointed to the luggage.

“Of course. I will make sure they are taken to your room.” Paula disappeared into the kitchen where pots clanged, and glasses chimed.

***

The dining hall welcomed the smell of basil, thyme, garlic, and cumin. Katrissa knew the scent of culinary perfection. As the celebrated chef of Yellowstone County, her notoriety led her to Crystal City, a special request by its residents who sponsored her new habitation. No one had ever offered to purchase a home for her. She was proud to know she could afford one on her own, but this time, it was not necessary. She remembered growing up at the boarding school in Lexington; it was challenging, but they prepared her well. Not one person she knew would turn down the offer of a complimentary mansion, a multi-million dollar one at that. The virtual pictures were stunning; never did she imagine its beauty could be so tangible.

She ran her hand across the designer French chairs and caressed the stem of her glass.

“More wine?” He asked. Thomas slowly poured the chardonnay as he bent close enough to take in her scent. “We could not wait to meet you and are glad that you are here.” He paused as she sipped.

“Why, thank you! I have no idea how you and Paula know so much about me, but I know absolutely nothing about you!” Katrissa chuckled, the laugh of a curious stranger.

“Your restaurant has gained great notoriety here. That is why they sent for you.”

Ignoring the compliment, she gently touched his arm. Looking into his auburn eyes, she briefly hesitated but dared to ask again.

“Thomas?”

“Yes, ma’am?” She could feel his arm shaking under her touch. She settled him with a firm but reassuring grip.

“I am wondering, are there any children in the neighborhood? I am very fond of kids and was told that if I married and planned to live on Marlton Street, I could not have them. Is this true? Please tell me.”

“You are certainly free to marry and have children. However, the children are not allowed to live here.” He started to walk away. His casualness of speech concerned her.

“Wait. What do you mean? I can marry? I can have children? But my kids can’t stay here? That makes no sense. What do you mean?” Katrissa felt the subtlety of anger rising yet the need to maintain her composure stayed steady. These people did not know her. They knew of her, but so did most of the world. What did this town have against children? Were these people’s careers too important to make time for them? Shaking things up would come sooner than she imagined. She would get a good night’s rest and meet her neighbors in the morning.

***

“Good day, Ms. Martindale!” Paula flung the drapes open and forced the sunshine to enter. She turned around. “Ms. Martindale?” Katrissa was not there. Downstairs, she could hear faint voices, so she dashed as quickly as her frail legs could carry her.

“Oh! Good morning, Paula. I won’t be eating breakfast today. I grabbed a pastry from the pantry and will be satisfied with a coffee along the way.” She laced up her tennis shoe and headed for the door.

“Along the way? Where are you going, ma’am?” Thomas stood by the door.

“Uhhh, for a walk? What better way to meet the neighbors than to go for a morning stroll?”

“Oh my!” He held his chest. “I’m not sure that’s a wise idea. After all, most people are currently at work. Once your restaurant opens, you will meet many of them there.” His eyes pleaded with her to take her time.

“Don’t be silly!” Katrissa smiled and threw a dismissive hand his way. “I won’t be long.” As she jogged to the front gate, the mailman came into view from behind the cement pillar. “Hello, there!” She held out her hand. “I’m Katrissa, the owner of the house.” She pointed behind her as though divulging private information.

“Well, hello! I’m Jeremy, your mailman. Welcome home!” He handed her the mail he held in his hand and waved goodbye.

“It kinda feels like home already!” she shouted after him. “Thank you!” She locked the gate behind her, placed her mail in the box, and headed north down the sidewalk. Paula and Thomas stood at the door as Katrissa disappeared from their view.

Growing up in Lexington, wealth was commonplace. However, Crystal Estates stood in a class of its own. She could hardly call the palatial edifices houses; their manicured lawns traveled for at least half a block, introducing visitors to miniature castles adorned with greenery, marble, 8-foot steel entrances, and cascading waterfalls. As she walked, she hummed to herself. It was an anomaly to hear her own voice, for the hustle and bustle of the restaurant business seldom afforded her any inner peace. She liked it, and for the first time, realized she could actually sing in tune. In the distance, she gazed at a woman on the opposite side of the street. Her first encounter with a resident, Katrissa jogged closer, greeting the young lady with a welcoming smile.

“Whew!” she panted. “I guess I’m a bit out of shape! How are you?” She extended her hand.

Without reciprocating, the young lady nodded. “I am well. And you?”

“I just got into town yesterday and a bit jet-lagged, to be honest, but decided to get to know the neighborhood a bit. Ya know?” She bent down, as the wind that escaped her had not fully returned. “So, what do you do for fun in this town? Any movie theaters? Parties? Galas? I mean, where do you go to meet people?”

“There isn’t time for much of that. But my husband and I usually spend our time at the opera house. That is where we met. Les Miserables is coming in a few weeks.”

“Niiicee! So, you’re married. Any kids?”

She looked down. “Not right now. There are no children allowed here, but we will see them soon.”

“I’m sorry, Say what now? You’ll see them soon? What does that even mean?” The look on her face suddenly merged into anxiety. “I’m sorry. Excuse my manners. You don't even know me. My name is Katrissa.”

“Yolanda.” She replied. “I know who you are.”

“That right. I forgot. I had no idea I was that famous. So, back to seeing your children soon.”

“Look, Katrissa, it’s complicated.” She started to walk away.

“Oh, try me. What is going on here?”

Yolanda hesitated but knew she could not slither out of the exchange. She swallowed the fresh air and gently released. “Many years ago, decades really, the Governor of the town decided he wanted to have a city void of crime and mischief. As children grow, it is what they do until they “find themselves.” He decided to instate a new state law. Couples who decided to have children did so with the understanding those kids would be sent away until formerly trained and prepared to become productive members of society. And so…“

Katrissa interrupted her. “So, they agreed?”

“Yes.” She continued. “If the children managed well abroad, they were allowed to return as residents of the town in which they were born. It’s only fair. My husband and I keep track of our twins and they will, no doubt, return in nine years. We can’t wait!" She paused. "I really have to go. My patients are waiting for me. So nice to have met you.”

“Wait. Please don’t leave.” Katrissa grabbed her hand. As she did, she could hear a gate faintly opening nearby. A distinguished woman excited the home. “Who is she? Since you have to go, maybe she can explain this to me.”

“Oh. That’s Evelyn. She would definitely be able to explain it. She was the one who purchased that house for you.”

“What? Which house? Mine? But why? I’ve never met her before in my life.”

“Katrissa. She is Evelyn Martindale. Your mother.”

The wind left her body. Her knees betrayed her as she watched the woman extend her hand to the driver of the Rolls Royce. Katrissa Martindale’s world moved in slow motion; the car moved even slower. As it passed, Lincoln nodded. The window slid to offer a midway glance to the outside. She looked oddly familiar. Katrissa's eyes followed hers, and the single tear caressed her cheek. And then it clicked. Evelyn was the nice lady who visited Lexington each year, accompanied by a gentleman about her age. The silver-haired woman placed her hand to her mouth and blew a gentle kiss as the car drove out of view.