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In the end she gave an awkward smile. “Sleep well. You must be tired.” And without waiting for her mother to answer, she headed to the stairs that curved up to her bedroom at the top of the turret.
Inside the sanctuary of her room, she closed her eyes.
What a total nightmare.
Still, at least she wasn’t expected to share a room.
She pulled herself together and was unpacking her small case when Ella wandered into the room.
“I’m so ready for bed.”
“Is Tab asleep?”
“Crashed out before Michael started reading her story. This place is amazing. Can’t wait to see it in daylight.” She peered through one of the windows. “I bet the view is fantastic. And talking of fantastic views—Brodie is gorgeous. He reminds me of my English professor at college. Can you believe he brought a car seat for Tab, and a blanket?”
Samantha hung up two dresses. “That was thoughtful.”
“He has incredible eyes. Do you think I should buy glasses for Michael?”
“Why would you buy him glasses when he doesn’t need glasses?”
“Because they’re supersexy. Those dark frames against light eyes—I mean, wow.”
“You’re madly in love with Michael!”
“I know. I’m thinking of you.”
“Me?” Samantha closed her suitcase and stowed it at the bottom of the alcove.
“Yes, Brodie would be perfect for you. He’s smart. Thoughtful. He has great eyes.”
“And he knows far too much about me.”
Ella grinned. “Exactly. He has a head start.”
“Ella—”
“I know, I’m not allowed to fix you up. But you can’t blame me for trying.” She sat on the edge of Samantha’s bed. “Does this feel weird to you? Being here as a family when we’re not a real family? I keep waiting for someone to find us out. I have imposter syndrome.”
“We are a family, Ella.” Samantha didn’t admit that she felt much the same way. “A dress is still a dress even if it’s torn and the hem has fallen down.”
“And a dress can be fixed. Let’s hope your analogy fits.” Ella lay back on the bed. “This mattress is so comfortable I might never want to get up.”
“Go and sleep in your own bed.”
Ella lifted herself up on her elbows. “They seem like ni
ce people. Mom seems happy with her room, too, which is a Christmas miracle in itself because she invented fussy. Do you think she’s okay? I honestly can’t tell.”
“I don’t think she’s as relaxed as she’d like us to think she is.” But she wasn’t alone in that. Samantha put her toiletries and makeup in the bathroom. Fresh towels lay over a heated towel rail. “Why didn’t she mention her honeymoon to us before now?”
“Why would she? She never talks about her marriage. I can’t even remember when we last asked her.”
“No point in asking her because we never get an answer.”
“I know. Losing someone she loved so much was clearly traumatizing for her. So why tell us now? And she said it so casually, as if she was commenting on the weather.”
“Maybe it’s part of her softening up. She’s never got over him—we know that. They were so in love. Presumably the honeymoon was a special time.”
