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I happen to like the sleek white tiled floors, the new dark hardwood, the square, structured doorways, the tiled over fireplaces that aren’t functional, having heat that doesn’t come from a radiator, and my white gloss cabinets and sparkling white backsplash in the kitchen and bathrooms. I also like a big bathtub I can fit in besides having a glassed-in shower with a showerhead that has all the modern settings and perks.
The exterior of the house was redone with new siding and shingles, but the whole thing kept its shape architecturally. Hmm, I don’t know. Some people will call it a monstrosity while others, like myself, call it a highly functional, aesthetically pleasing, historically inaccurate—that’s okay—homage to another era.
I feel a slight twinge of guilt again when I pull up to the house, which has a long string of expensive cars gracing the driveway and street, thanks to all my relatives being here already. Lindy, to her credit, doesn’t make a sound, and she doesn’t give me any looks of derision just because she lives in a bad neighborhood and I don’t. She doesn’t seem to be offended by my existence, which I find to be a good thing.
I mean, it would be easier if she hated me. Maybe the dang necklace wouldn’t glow for her then, and I could just forget about all this. Then again, if she did hate me, she could have fudged up my software instead of fixing it, robbed my house for real, and told me to go fuck myself by keeping my cursed necklace. Also, she probably wouldn’t have killed that wasp at breakfast yesterday. She would have allowed it to sting me, and then, if she hated me, she probably would have smiled a very perverse smile of pleasure at my pain and horror.
But I can’t see Lindy doing any of that.
Not that I know her well or anything, but she doesn’t strike me as the type who gets perverse pleasure from someone else’s pain.
“I like your house,” Lindy says as she gets out of the car. She says it like she hasn’t been here before, on the inside of it. “I mean, I like it in the light. It looks a lot different than it did in the dark.”
I follow her lead. We didn’t park in the driveway since it’s full of my asshole cousins’ cars already. They knew they’d be here first since I told them I wouldn’t be here until three, and they still clogged up my driveway.
“Thanks.”
“It’s really…big. And uh, it looks like a castle. The turret is impressive. Is it a room? I never got the chance to try and figure it out when I snuck inside.”
This has to be the world’s strangest conversation. “No, it’s just open above the stairs. It’s very non-exciting.”
“Oh. It would be cool if it were a room. Like you could keep treasures stashed in there.”
“Treasures.”
“Yeah, magic lamps, mermaids, unicorns, sparkly shoes that take you to other worlds, pirate gold, cursed necklaces, crazy gotch, cotton candy…”
Okay, if Lindy weren’t my soulmate, not that I have accepted it, or even if I have, I’m choosing not to think about it, but honestly, if she weren’t it, I would definitely have wished it was her. Not only is she techy, smart, and awesome, but she’s also full of wonderful ideas.
And she doesn’t mind that I have funny gotch—or underwear as it’s also known—in my drawer, a cotton candy obsession, or a cursed necklace. She’s taken all of that in stride. Oh, and she met my granny first, which says a lot about her because if she can handle Granny, then she should be able to take on pretty much anything the world throws at her.
Inside, everyone is assembled, and I mean everyone. The furniture in the living room goes with the décor. I have a distinctly white theme going on, where I have white leather furniture, two loveseats, a sectional, and two chairs. Honestly, the living room is enormous. A painting done in shades of white—yes, it’s possible—hangs above the white-tiled fireplace, a gray and white area rug sits in the middle of the room surrounded by the furniture, and white lamps with white shades as well as white end tables with clear glass tops complete the look.
However, the room is decidedly not white now that there are eight people in it besides Lindy and me. As per usual, Granny is wearing hot pink, while my brother, Ash, and his fiancée, Ellis, are dressed casually. My cousin, Toren, his fiancée, Luna, and their son, Milo, on the other hand, are wearing eight different colors between them at minimum. My other cousin, Taylen, is rocking a burgundy velvet jacket of all things, and Leandra, the baby of the family and my youngest cousin, is dressed in a shimmery gold dress that no doubt came from the boutique she runs.
