The Fleur-De-Lys
Monday, February 28, 2011
In which a good time is had by all involved…
Sunday and Monday had been a beautiful 26 hours.
The Symphony, as usual, was magnificent. In the mild temperatures of a half-gray afternoon, they entered under glass chandelier, red velvet, marble, and gold gilt as usual.
Once inside, a brief review of the currently displayed winners of the Picture to the Music program. Still, after all those years since being awarded one of the blue ribbons in front of Leonard Slatkin, Collette was surprised that she, Carrie-Bri, Joe, and Rose had all been in the top selection of winners, out of thousands and thousands of applicants. Joe and Rose had even seen their art labeled as the very top winners, receiving plaques for their artistry.
Then a soda for OLeif and a bottle of water for Collette from the bar.
And to their seats, three rows back from the stage behind the double basses.
A cordial introduction from the conductor, and then the first beautiful notes of the fantasia. Once again, so exquisite, so perfect, that it almost seemed not real. It was easily said that for a full fifteen minutes, which felt more like two, Collette was transfixed.
Afterwards, OLeif drove them towards their destination, of which Collette had no thoughts as to what, or where, it might be.
And so she was successfully surprised when they pulled up to an antique house across the street from the old water tower in Reservoir Park.
“Yes,” said OLeif with a grin, “this is it.”
The Fleur-De-Lys Mansion. Collette had not even realized that any bed-and-breakfasts of note were stationed in St. Louis. But she was quickly to learn that it was not merely a bed-and-breakfast, but the best in St. Louis, and qualified as one of the best in the United States. Most specifically, the 5th in the United States, and the 7th in the world. http://fdlmansion.com/.
Their friendly host, Dave, greeted them at the door and gave them a tour of the house, explaining the origin of the 1913 construction, and led them through the various rooms of the 7,000 square feet of elegance.
“Over here you can help yourself to a brandy whenever you’d like,” said the kind gentleman. “And if you play the piano, please feel free to do so.”
Chocolates. Everywhere. Peppermints. A coffee station. Tea. Hot cocoa. Hot cider. Cookies. Library, television and case of DVDs. A small garden in the back and fountain by the patio.
Then upstairs to the four rooms.
“You’re our only guests tonight,” said Dave, “so you are lord and lady here for the evening.”
Despite the expansiveness of the lay-out of rooms, there were still enough doors labeled ‘private’, not to mention the entire third story, which spoke to the enormity of the structure.
After being shown the closet full of handy items, should they have forgotten anything, and the cabinet housing the ice box, fridge full of sodas and bottled water, and case of peanuts, Cheez-Its, etc., not to mention the hot tub in the little room attached to a balcony overlooking the garden, they were escorted to their room with views of the water tower across the street.
“It’s like sleeping on a cloud. Our sheets our 600 thread-count satin, washed in lavender water and ironed,” said Dave, pointing to the bed, the sort of bed one might see in a museum.
“It’s a little tall…” he said, looking to Collette.
This was easily remedied by the little set of steps set next to the bed.
Everything had been considered: towel-heater in the bath, French shampoos and soaps, a writing desk with stationary, robes, an iPod dock as alarm clock, explanations on how to use the thermostat should they wish the temperature altered, keys to their room, the front and back doors, and a remote for the gate.
“This is so fancy!” OLeif had declared, several times over.
He wasn’t kidding.
As the evening approached, OLeif brought out his next item on the itinerary. Dinner at Apollonia.
A Greek affair. Dark booth, quiet room. Waitress who would easily have been Mollie McCrae with black hair. Flaming cheese. Gyros. English soccer. Success on all counts.
Back to the Fleur-De-Lys. The hot tub nearly matched the level of heat put out by the Blue Lagoon in Iceland.
What happened next just iced the cake.
Somewhere around 11:00…
Collette woke with a start.
Tornado sirens.
Adrenaline already going from the shock awake, OLeif turned on the television. Collette looked out the blinds. Silence. Not a murmur.
Then the sirens stopped.
“Well… I guess…”
Then the television reported it: touch-down in St. Alban’s, the worst heading right their way next. A quick phone call reported the family heading to the basement, tornadic activity still having erupted far enough away from Grandma Snicketts off 100… and OLeif and Collette headed out of the room.
“Hi there,” said their hostess, Jan, from her office. “We were just deciding whether to come and get you…”
It didn’t take long to decide.
Robes, flashlights, coffee. Into the basement.
“Well, I guess this isn’t exactly what you were expecting,” she said, laughing.
“It’s alright,” said Collette. “We like storms.”
“Well, I’ll admit it, I do too.”
Dave pulled his car into their garage, just in time. Even in the solid basement, they could hear the wind thrashing, the lightening crashing, and the rain. And it had passed as quickly as it had come while they talked with Dave and Jan for about half an hour or more, and of their upcoming 35-day trip to Europe in September.
As things settled down once more, reports of cyclonic observations had been made over Lafayette Square. Uprooted trees around the city,
Then back upstairs for an uninterrupted eight hours of sleep on ‘the cloud’.
Good evening.
Breakfast at nine.
OLeif practically fawned over it. And despite Collette’s often indifference towards meals, she had to admit that the spread was rather amazing:
-
homemade lemon curd parfait
-
soft raspberry and white chocolate scones
-
baked eggs with parmesan
-
sausage and toast
-
fresh raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries
-
coffee, tea, juice (all varieties)
During breakfast, conversation with Jan continued, on all sorts of items, including the fact that the pastor and his wife of Carrie’s and Rose’s church were regular visitors. And that Dave and Jan attended Twin Oaks, but often Memorial as well, due to its proximity to the bed-and-breakfast. It was, as Jan described, their ministry.
“The Lord brings people here all the time,” she said, “and so many of them were sent here to encourage us, or for us to encourage them.”
And then she and OLeif discussed ideas for her new blog about the inn, the excellent quality of their website, etc.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, after awhile, pouring more ice water for Collette. “Dave and I are always telling ourselves that our guests are not here to talk with us. They’re here to enjoy each other. But it’s so nice having you here. We just fall in love with our guests, and then they have to leave.”
And then it was, indeed, time to leave, but not before some kind parting words from Jan and a gift nightlight with the Fleur-De-Lys emblem.
Once out again, in a far more chilly world…
They drove around for a good deal of time looking through oodles of fascinating and unique neighborhoods and fantastic houses.
The Iron Barley at 12:30, featured in Man vs. Food. Collette ordered the Monte Cristo and OLeif the gumbo.
Back out again for further driving about the city.
Closed out with a visit to World Market.
And back to Puck.
They walked in the door, and he was sitting on a stool watching the popcorn popper pop. Huge grins.
He had apparently had a super time. The living room was filled up with a tent of blankets, chairs, and lamps. And rain soundtrack.
“He’s been playing ‘thunderstorm’ all day,” Carried explained.
Dad had taken him to visit Grandma Snicketts and out to Chick-fil-A.
And during the grand storms that had come through the previous evening, Francis had carried Puck into the basement during all of the excitement, after which he promptly fell asleep again for the night.
It had been a good weekend all around.
Back home for Bible reading and cuddle time with Puck and his daddy before a little Minecraft to finish off the evening.