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Smiling, Kit blinked back a sheen of tears as she glanced around the room. Mackey had done a great job overhauling the room. Over the past week, he’d stripped the bed and spot cleaned the mattress, swept the floor, packed up and removed (with Royal’s help) all of Sylvie’s clothes and jewelry, and dusted down the furniture. He’d also taken down the curtains, washed them and rehung them, after cleaning the windows.
Sylvie’s favorite view of Hope Creek had never been so clear or beautiful. A bittersweet ache welled inside Kit. Her mother would’ve loved it, and she’d have been proud of Mackey’s hard work.
After removing the screen from the front porch, Royal had decided it was time to renovate other areas, as well, and Sylvie’s old room had been at the top of the list. The old rule of not entering the bedroom had been abolished, and Royal, opening the door wide one night, had referred to it as the guest room—or, as he’d put it, Kit’s new room, seeing as how she’d announced her intention to stay. And the new partnership with the Suttons had further fueled his excitement to redesign some of the space in Teague Cottage.
Royal was ready for change, and Kit, surreptitiously wiping away a tear, was glad to see him happy.
“I can’t do that one yet, because of the dresser,” Mackey said, pointing his paintbrush at an unpainted wall.
Kit ducked to avoid the drops of paint that were flung across the room. “Well, that’s why we’re here. If we hurry up, we’ll have the room painted by the time Viv comes back from the farm. That’d be a nice surprise.” She walked over to the dresser, braced her hands on one corner, and lifted her chin at Royal. “Come on, Dad. Time to get that back of yours warmed up.”
After they moved the dresser to the center of the room, it took a little over an hour to finish painting the room. Kit leaned into one side of the dresser and gave it a final push, helping Royal position it a few inches from the wall Mackey had just finished painting.
“Now,” she said, heaving out a breath and smiling. “I think you can safely say you’ve finished decorating this room, Mackey.”
Mackey, drying his hands with a towel, looked around, his eyes wide. “It looks good, don’t it?”
“Better than good,” Kit said. “It’s gorgeous.”
Royal murmured a sound of agreement, then flopped on the freshly made bed. “Y’all kick back and admire it for a minute.”
Laughing, Mackey jogged across the room and hopped on the bed, then laid his head on Royal’s chest. “It’s gorgeous, ain’t it, Dad?”
Royal kissed the top of his head and smiled. “You done perfect, son.” He stretched his free arm out and turned his palm up. “I got another shoulder free,” he said. “Don’t care how old you are. You’re always welcome to it.”
Heart turning over, Kit walked over to the bed and lay down, too, and rested her head on Royal’s shoulder. They lay there silently for a few minutes, gazing at the blue-painted walls and watching the long lace curtains flutter in the breeze flowing through the open window.
“Your mama loved this room,” Royal said softly. “She’d have been proud of what you’ve done, Mackey.”
Kit lifted her head and glanced to her left, then smiled wider as Mackey giggled with pride and nuzzled his cheek closer to Royal’s chest.
“Y’all got room for one more?”
Kit looked to her right, where Viv stood in the doorway, a hesitant smile on her face as she studied them lying on the bed.
“There ain’t no question about that,” Royal said. “You’re part of the family.” He patted Mackey’s shoulder. “Roll a little to your left, son. Your sister needs her space.”
An excited squeal left Mackey at the prospect of all of them piled in the bed—something they hadn’t done in years. Kit had been nine the last time she recalled them doing so.
“There’s too many of us,” Mackey said, laughing. “You think it’ll break?”
“Nah,” Royal said, smiling wide, as he scooted over a couple of inches. “This old bed’s strong. It’ll hold us all.”
Viv smiled as they all shifted over; then she gingerly lay down beside Kit. She stared at the ceiling for a minute and laughed. “Whose idea was this? I feel like a five-year-old.”
Royal slipped his arm out from under Kit’s head, reached out, and playfully mussed Viv’s hair. “Y’all will always be five years old in my book. Or at least, you’ll always be my little girls—no matter how old you are.” He turned his head, and his dark eyes moved beyond Kit’s face to focus on Viv’s expression. “No matterwhereyou are. I hope you know that.”
Viv grew quiet, her arm tensing against Kit’s.
“Viv?” Kit slipped her hand in her sister’s. “What’s going on?”
Viv was quiet for a moment, then said, “I thought about what you said. You know, the night you talked about Highlands?”
Kit nodded, her breath catching.
“I want to go,” Viv said quietly.
Mackey shot upright, his chin trembling. “Go where?”
