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“Maybe.” Megan laughed. “But seriously, come see what I’ve been up to.”
She led him to the back of the hallway toward the first room, which had been his own, stopping in front of the closed door.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, just do it.”
“Okay.” His perfectly full lashes rested against his cheeks as his lids drew down.
“Ready? One, two…three.”
Megan pushed the door open and watched his reaction as he stepped into what had been his old bedroom.
His eyes widened with shock and recognition as he took in the space and saw each of his World War II artifacts artfully displayed in the updated space. The compass, canteen, and helmet were on a newly mounted shelf, next to a collection of Life magazines she picked up from an antique market along with enamelware cups from the forties.
To match, the furniture and everything she had chosen reflected a slightly retro vibe, while still maintaining clean lines. She had his maps of London framed and mounted on the wall, and had arranged some of his books on the shelf in such a way that all of the Allied powers were together with Churchill’s book at the forefront. The clocks were reproductions, with a hidden USB port in the back. All of the details were perfect, but Troy went right to her favorite one above the nightstand next to the bed.
“How did you get this photograph?” he asked, studying the framed photograph on the wall.
“Your dad, of course. He told me how much you loved it.”
Troy sucked his lips into a thin line as he stood in front of his maternal grandfather’s picture from World War II. He stood in his uniform looking so proud in front of an old Studebaker.
“Megan, I…”
She came up from behind him and gave him a squeeze, resting her head on the back of his shoulders.
“I love it.”
“Do you? For real?”
“Yes. It’s better than I could’ve imagined.”
He pivoted and kissed her again before she pulled back.
“There’s more.”
“You’ve been busy,” he said with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the next one.”
“Come on. Eyes closed.”
Megan took him by the hand, aware that the first time she had come down this hall had been to get Levi. She was sure Troy knew every step of the way, keenly aware of where they were heading, but still she liked to think there was something to the element of surprise.
“Alright, ready?”
“Ready.”
“One, two, three.” Megan pushed the door open. It swung in silently on its hinges to Adam’s old room.
It was almost unrecognizable with the improvements they had made and the addition, but the view out the windows was the same. The sun streamed through new windows onto the warm pine floorboards and thick braided rug, but that wasn’t what caught Troy’s eye.
Once again the awe of recognition and the echo of nostalgia mixed in his eyes.
The linens were mostly white with subtle lining echoing the clouds in the picture Laura had taken. Like the forties room, Megan had arranged the artifacts in here. The belt buckle and buttons were in shadow boxes, while the horseshoes were arranged all upright in a pattern flanking the bedside tables. A saddle blanket was folded over the settee on the side, but a series of photographs in black frames showed Adam as a young teenager in a series of photos from around the ranch. In the first one, he held the reins of a horses with his hand on the fence post. In another he was laughing on the back of a tractor stacking hay, and last he stood as a young man in his senior portrait, looking out over the mountains the windows framed. All of the pictures were black and white, placed there in homage to the brother Troy said had loved this ranch more than anything.
Troy blinked and blinked again, and the tears in his eyes welled up and pooled as he noticed the other little touches. The high school’s pennant, a letter from his letterman jacket, and Adam’s old cowboy hat all adorned the wall.
