Traitor,she thought.Cheater.
She yanked the sheets off the furniture, sending up plumes of dust. The motes caught sunlight and created a hazy glitter in the air.
I only have eyes for you,he’d said.
Gaslighter,she thought.Asshole.
Underneath the sheets were couches and chairs and tables, but not just ordinary couches and chairs and tables—they looked like works of art. One couch was carved to look like a shell, with wood shaped like the spiral of a conch. Its cushions were blue-green, and the soft knit blanket on top reminded her of sea-foam. Another chair was shaped like the stump of a tree and carved with flowers and acorns. A thick moss-green cushion was sunk into the center of it. The top of a coffee table was a mosaic of pebbles, polished as if by a stream.
She wondered if he’d ever loved her. Had it always been lies?
As she made her way around the edges of the room, dustingsconces and shelves and the mantel over the fireplace, she pictured his face and sprayed it with Lysol, then imagined she was wiping him away, word by lying word.
We’re meant to be,he’d said.It’s destiny.
He’d actually said those words with a straight face.
Worse, she’d believed him.
Working steadily clockwise, she reached the tea set in the corner that she’d spotted when she’d first arrived. Unlike the majority of the furniture, it hadn’t been hidden beneath a sheet and was coated in a thick layer of dust, with cobwebs draped between the teapot handle and the stack of cups and saucers.
She was erasing their forever destiny with each cobweb she cleared. He was the past. She was leaving him behind and rediscovering her future, whatever it was. He had no place in it anymore. His promises were lies. His kisses were lies. His lips, liars. His eyes, liars.
Past. Over. Done.
She wiped down the tray table, kneeling to clean around the wheels, and then stood and began wiping the grime off the teacups. She wondered what her moms would say if they knew she was cleaning without being asked.They’d be proud,she thought.And a little snarky.If only her room weren’t so messy.
When she finished with the tea set, Calisa scooped up all the sheets that had been covering the furniture. She had spotted a laundry machine at the end of the hallway of closets, beyond the kitchen. As she carried the sheets through the foyer toward the kitchen, she heard Auntie Zee say, “Welcome back, Kendra. Your room is ready for you.”
She poked her head into the kitchen to see the new guest.
And then she blinked.
Auntie Zee was closing the closet door next to the refrigerator, and if Calisa didn’t know better, she would have said it looked as if the guest had just stepped out of the cleaning supplies. Aside from the logistical implausibility of this, the new guest, Kendra, didnotlook like the kind of woman who ever touched a dustrag, much less emerged from a closet full of them. She was intimidatingly elegant, with white hair, dark skin, and fierce angular features. Zero wrinkles despite the white hair. She wore a tailored suit with a snow-white turtleneck under it. This must be the third guest, the one that Jack had said was due to arrive soon.
How, though, had she arrived without Calisa noticing? She hadn’t heard a car. Or a plane or a helicopter or whatever this elegant, terrifying woman arrived in.I was listening to music. And my own thoughts.
“I trust the amenities will live up to my standards,” Kendra said.
“Probably not,” Auntie Zee said. “But the view is still the same.”
“It’ll do.” She then fixed her eyes on Calisa, and Calisa froze as if she’d been caught mid-crime. Kendra’s eyes narrowed. “I detest being watched.”
As Auntie Zee turned, Calisa unfroze and bolted out of the kitchen.
She told herself there was absolutely no rational reason for her heart to be pounding. Of course the new guest hadn’tappeared out of thin air, and Calisa shouldn’t have fled when the guest looked at her. Sure, the woman looked intimidating, but New York City was full of intimidating women and she’d never fled from them.I don’t know why I panicked.Running from guests was not going to impress Auntie Zee.
Obviously, I’m stressed and not thinking clearly.
She took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of tea. In the corner, the teapot rattled. Calisa turned and stared at it. Steam curled from its spout.
She’d just finished cleaning it. How was it suddenly full of hot tea?
In the fireplace, a nice warm fire crackled. She stared at that too. She’d just left this room less than a minute ago. Who had come in, lit a fire, and made tea?
Jack,she thought. Of course, it had to be. But…why?
Either he was trying to be nice, or it was the coziest prank she’d ever heard of.
