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“You’re back for one minute, and the two of you are already ganging up on me,” he muses.
On the drive home, the familiar sites are a welcome change, all of which have some memory attached from my childhood. It doesn’t take too long for the house to appear before us, catching my breath as I release a long-winded sigh.
Finally, I’ve made it back home.
“Nash and Sienna will be back home tomorrow but only for the weekend,” Dad mentions while taking Bentley out of his seat. “Why don’t you go shower and have a rest. We’ll have dinner tonight before the rest of the family wants your attention. I hope it’s okay that your mother will be joining us?”
“That sounds perfect, Dad.”
As soon as we step inside, the scent in the air consumes me, a smell reminding me only of this house. I can’t even describe it. A mixture of many things and happiness is one of them.
Kate, of course, wants to show me the surprise, which happens to be the guest bedroom all decorated just for Bentley. The walls are painted a light blue with a white crib and changing table against one wall and a dresser and small bookshelf on the other. There are stuffed bears, cushions, books, and other toys positioned perfectly in the room.
“This room is adorable,” I say in admiration, gazing at the light fixture, which happens to be a plane hanging from the roof.
“Mama,” Bentley calls, “Ppp…pane.”
“Yes, baby, it’s a plane.”
“Okay, listen. Please get some rest. I’m going to bathe and change Bentley, get him down for a quick nap, so he has some energy for dinner.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“Your tired eyes are thanking me.” Kate laughs.
I leave the two of them to catch Dad walking down the hall. Just like Kate, he insists I get some rest. When I open the door to my room, nothing has changed. Everything is the way I left it, from the king-size bed in the middle of the room with my favorite lavender sheets to the white bedside tables beside them.
Across the bed is a complete wall of bookshelves. Every single book I read and loved is sitting on those very shelves. My teal velour armchair is seated next to the window—my treasured reading spot.
After taking the longest shower known to mankind, desperate to wash all the plane smell off me, I’m barely able to climb into bed as my limbs are weighed down with exhaustion.
Jetlag—the bane of my existence.
Before I fall asleep, I want to hear Andy’s voice since it’s been days since I could last speak to him. Benedict was always in and out of the house or hovering near me. For fear of being caught, I thought it was best to wait until I arrived in LA.
I dial Andy’s number, forgetting what time it is in Spain.
“Can it be that I’m speaking to a Californian?”
A laugh escapes me, followed by a yawn. “Yes, though I feel like I’m in some sort of twilight zone. I don’t even know what time it is.”
“Bedtime?”
“Yes,” I yawn again, although it’s only midday.
“How was the flight?”
“As expected with a child who wants to say hello to everyone and eat everything. Oh, and I think I counted he said the word plane like a thousand times.”
“Aww, poor baby,” Andy murmurs. “You, not him.”
“I’m so tired that I’m too tired to sleep. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, but you should get some sleep.”
“But I want to talk to you,” I whine, followed by a string of yawns this time. “How has work been? Has Anastasia been behaving herself?”
This time, Andy chuckles. “Busy, never a moment to stop. As for Anastasia, well, she’s just her.”
