“I remember Jesse,” Mac murmured. “He was a great guy. Jane’s had a lot of tragedy in her life.”
I nodded. “One of the reasons she decided to get involved in the Gables project was to try to turn around the negative memories a lot of us have. She wants to bring some goodness and light to this place.”
“That sounds like Jane, for sure.” Mac smiled. “And I mean that in the best possible way.”
“I know you do.” There was nobody more thoughtful than Jane. She had a kind, generous heart and only wanted the best for everyone.
Mac shook his head and muttered, “I have to write about all of this.”
Pulling out his phone, he started taking pictures of the buildings from every angle. Then he turned and stared out at the ocean. “Wow, look at this view.” He pointed north. “Hey, you can see the lighthouse from here.” He turned around to look at the building behind him, then back over his shoulder at the lighthouse. “I guess from the lighthouse, you can see the land, but the view of the buildings is blocked by the trees.”
“Exactly.” I slipped my arm through his. “Jane’s mom used to say that she was lucky to be here because she had the best view of anyone in the country.”
He considered it for a long moment. “That’s a glass-half-full way to look at it, I guess.”
“Kind of like Jane,” I murmured.
We continued walking in silence for another minute.
“It’s so peaceful up here, I almost hate to see them develop it,” he mused. “There’ll be hundreds of people driving up here every month causing traffic jams on the highway and marring the view of the buildings.” He scowled. “And I would really hate to see it turned into a glorified strip mall.”
“God forbid. I don’t think the investors and the development company will let that happen.”
“This investor definitely won’t,” he declared.
I sighed. “I like to think that visitors will respect the place and see it as something beautiful and different.”
Mac shrugged. “I guess it’s better to have people come and enjoy it rather than tear it all down or leave it to crumble to dust.”
“There’s always that trade-off,” I said.
“True.” He crossed his arms and stared at the buildings.
“There won’t be any parking here in front,” I assured him. “Jane said they’re building a big parking lot around the back so the cars and trucks and RVs coming up here won’t spoil this lovely sight.” I spread my arms out to indicate the building complex as well as the entire hilltop.
Mac scratched the side of his jaw contemplatively. “I guess that’s okay, then. Makes me feel a little better.”
“You’ll get a clearer idea of everything they have in mind when Rachel takes you on the tour.”
“I think I’d better call her this afternoon. I want to schedule the tour for tomorrow instead of waiting until Friday. I’m anxious to see the inside.”
We reached the north end of the property and I pointed at the last building. “This will be the new Hotel Hennessey.”
Mac gazed at it for a long moment. He turned to take in the views from every angle. “It’s beautiful. It’s going to be fantastic.” He nodded and added softly, “Way to go, Jane.”
I pointed. “And look, you can barely see the other end of the complex from here.”
“It’s impressive, for sure,” Mac said.
We followed the fence line around the north side and took a look at the back of the property. The eucalyptus trees lining this area were tall and graceful.
I took in a deep breath of eucalyptus scent. “It’s so pretty up here. And it smells so clean.”
After a few minutes, we headed back around to the front of Building Seven, Jane’s future hotel, and stopped for another minute to study it.
Mac said, “I don’t want to be a downer, but there are seven separate buildings with three floors each. I imagine they were usually filled to capacity. That adds up to a whole lot of mental disorders.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry to say. Back in the day they didn’t always understand the different ways that mental illness shows itself, so there were a lot of people who were wrongly diagnosed and shouldn’t have been admitted here. Women with postpartum depression, for instance, or anyone suffering from alcoholism. Some men even had their suffragette wives committed.”
“Because you must be crazy to want to vote?” Mac shook his head.
“Right?” I smiled, but it faded quickly. “I read of one so-called insane asylum that housed prisoners exclusively. It didn’t matter the crime, they were all just sent off to the insane asylum.”
“That’s bizarre,” he muttered. “Sadly, these days it’s the opposite. A lot of mentally ill people are put in prison for want of a better option.”
I looked up at him. “We should probably leave before we both get more depressed.”
He threw his arm around my shoulder. “Good idea.”
We turned and began the long walk back to the truck.
“What’s with the towers on each building?” he asked. “Are they an elevator shaft or something?”
“I don’t think so, but I didn’t get a good look at them when I took the tour with Jane.”
“They’re dramatic, for sure.”
“Yeah. I haven’t figured out if they were simply a decorative architectural feature or if they actually had a practical purpose. You could be right about the elevator shaft, or maybe there are rooms up there. You know, apartments for the head doctor and his family or a dormitory for the nurses. Or they might’ve used the space as a chapel, or a place for occupational therapy.”
He gave me a light nudge with his elbow. “You must love that classic Victorian touch.”
I gazed up at the towers. “They’re great, aren’t they?”
“They’re amazing. Definitely add to the gothic atmosphere. And how many chimneys do you count?”
“A few dozen, at least,” I said. “That’s typical of the Victorian style, too.”
“I dig the gargoyles, but they’re not Victorian, are they? And wouldn’t they scare the patients?”
“Good point,” I said, beaming. “According to the history I read, they only used the ones with sympathetic features. No scary, ugly ones.”
“Seriously?” He glanced up and studied the nearest stone creature. “They might not be scary, but those are all really ugly. Not sure I’m buying that theory.”