When she pushes open her door, I see that her walls are almost the precise shade of my blouse. “I told you coral was my favorite,” she says, flopping onto a white four-poster bed in the center of the space.
Her ceiling is wallpapered in an oversize floral print. A low antique dresser sits beneath the window. But I bet a changing table was there first. This must’ve been the cutest nursery. Am I getting emotional? I blink away the tears before anyone can notice and redirect my focus to a photo in a gold frame on Penny’s desk.
“Is this Suni Lee?” I say, picking it up. Of course they wouldn’t let her Scotch-tape some tacky sports poster to the wall in here.
Penny and Jack both gasp. Ian, still in the doorway, lifts his eyebrows so that only I see.
“You know about her?” Penny asks, springing up from her bed to join me.
“Suni Lee is Penny’s idol,” says Jack, smiling.
“Heck yes, I know about Suni!” I say. “I was obsessed with her during the Olympics last summer. Did you see her stick the landing on the vault, even with her bad ankle?” (I’ve been doing some Wikipedia research on the women’s gymnastics team. Figured it couldn’t hurt.)
Penny’s eyes widen. “Yes! That was so cool!”
“Do you thinkyouwant to go to the Olympics one day?”
“I don’t know. My coach says I can if I keep working really hard. But there might be other things I want to do, too, once we move to London.”
“That’s very reasonable,” I say.
“You can see why we’re so proud of her,” says Jack, grinning.
“Didn’t you wanna show me your pictures of London?” I ask, remembering why we came up here in the first place.
“Oh yeah.” Penny retrieves a photo album from her bookcase.“Daddy made this for me after Papa told us he got the new job.” She pages through, showing me all the sights she doesn’t remember seeing as a toddler.
“Oh, look, the London Bridge.” I point to a photo of her atop Curt’s shoulders in front of it.
“That’s theTowerBridge,” she corrects me. “I thought you’d been to London?”
“Remember your tone, please,” Jack interjects.
I laugh and wave him off. “Penny, you’re just too smart for me.”
Ian shoots me a look.
“Why don’t we go see Daddy and Papa’s room real quick before we go back down?” says Jack, ushering us back into the hall.
We pass a guest bedroom on the way. Jack leans in and flips on the light to offer us a look. The walls are a pale taupe. The space easily fits a queen, with nightstands on both sides. More than enough room for Ian’s parents.
Jack motions to a closed door across the hall: “That’s Curt’s study. Nothing very exciting in there.” But I’m doing the math, and including the primary, that’ll make four bedrooms, just as Ginny said. The perfect size.
Then we come to the grand finale. “When we built the addition, we spent even more time and money in here than we did on the kitchen, if you can believe that,” says Jack, pushing open the door for the big reveal.
It’s like we’ve been transported to a luxury hotel. The walls, trim, and ceiling are all the same dusky blue. A black canopy bed that I recognize from the Room & Board catalog sits between a matching pair of walnut dressers, almost certainly vintage. Generous windows frame a sky turned the color of sherbet by the setting sun. There’s a sitting area at one end, with a leather Eames lounger and a matching ottoman.
This has to be the biggest primary suite we’ve seen in the neighborhood. Here comes the panic again—if this place makes it to the open market, we are dead in the fucking water.
“This is really something,” says Ian.
“Thank you, we’ve been spoiled here,” says Jack. “I doubt we’ll find anywhere in London that can fit a king-size. But I might miss our bathroom even more.”
He opens an adjoining door, and I have to remind myself to breathe. It must be almost half the size of our apartment. The double vanities are a buttery oak; the amount of storage in them could save any marriage, maybe end wars. They’ve kept the finishes classic, with white marble on the floors and in the shower. A soaking tub sits beneath a window.
“Why would you ever leave this place?” I blurt out.
Jack laughs. “I know, right? I’m sure I’ll be a mess when the day comes.”
