The White Umbrella

By Sylvia Woodham

"The White Umbrella" unfolds within the enigmatic tapestry of a wooded residential neighborhood, where secrets, mysteries, and a timeless connection bind the characters. Lacey's return to her hometown thrusts her into the intricate dynamics of the Mahoney family, unraveling a tale of love, choice, and haunting revelations.

Against the backdrop of this gothic romance, a mysterious painting serves as a linchpin. As Lacey and Garrett navigate their intertwined past, the narrative exposes layers of family secrets and unexpected twists. The story probes into the complexities of romantic entanglements and familial expectations, creating a rich tapestry of emotions.

Themes of desire, responsibility, and the unexpected play pivotal roles as Lacey grapples with her own yearnings and the weight of family obligations. The Mahoneys' traditional values clash with the characters' modern lives, adding an extra layer of tension to the narrative.

The discovery of the painting serves as a metaphorical key, unlocking doors to hidden histories and dormant emotions. As past and present collide, the characters are faced with choices that will shape their futures. The narrative's pacing weaves a delicate balance, allowing the unfolding events to captivate readers and build suspense.

Garrett, a central figure, becomes a focal point for Lacey's journey. Their enduring connection is a thread that ties the story together, creating an emotional resonance that lingers throughout the tale. The gothic elements add a touch of mystery and darkness, enhancing the atmosphere and heightening the stakes.

Through vivid descriptions, readers are transported to the heart of the story—a house with its own memories and a painting that holds the key to unraveling the Mahoney family's secrets. The narrative invites readers to explore the intricacies of love, the consequences of choices, and the echoes of history that shape the characters' destinies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvia Woodham
• Release date: Feb 29, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224410163

Book preview

1

Several months ago :

Lacey, do you want this with me? Garrett’s intense gaze piercing into me as I found it hard to break eye contact.

I felt flustered. Garrett... it’s a lot to take in. Aren’t you engaged? I have plans to move to France soon. I answered.

Lacey, for you, I'd make it happen.

GARRET MAHONEY CAME into my life when we were both around the age of ten or eleven. The Mahoneys were nestled up the street from us, part of the fabric of the neighborhood long before my parents arrived. Their daughters were much older and already grown, but they had taken a liking to my parents. With his adopted sisters being so much older, the families thought the two of us should meet.

Garrett was the son of someone in Mrs. Mahoney’s family, but the details eluded me why exactly they had taken him in. I remember hearing hushed whispers suggesting his mother had been unfit to care for him, but to this day I had never asked Garrett and never knew his enigmatic history.

Our neighborhood was a wooded residential area,  canopied by the shade of tall pine and beech trees. On one side of the street at the bottom of a low grade hill stood our house and yard, and at the top of the hill on the other side, their mysterious house crowned on the other side of the hill just before the bridge over the river. Most of the neighborhood was developed around the same time period, a mix of modest craftsman and tudor architecture. His 1920s brick box mansion felt grand in comparison, though I don’t feel it compares to modern oversized luxurious homes of today. The drive went straight in front of the main entrance, which faced perpendicular to the road, and I liked to imagine it belonged to a time when that meant carriages would pull up in front of the house. It also had vast sweeping semicircular lawns behind the house, that were lower than the main level in the back, meaning there were a total of four stories, including the back level that opened up into the lawn.

We were older now, and both living our own adult lives. None of this would have happened, except I was back at my parents house for a brief time, and his mother was elderly and needed company to look after her after Mr. Mahoney had passed. One of my best friends, Rachel, who wasn’t from this town at all, seemed to be a great fit to live with Ms. Mahoney. That was why I got the call about the house.

Rachel had sounded almost frantic on the phone, calling immediately about part of the lower structure of the house collapsing. It sounded serious, I thought as I walked up the drive. The house was