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We arrive at a door a few down from Polly, and Cynthia stands aside. “Well, this is your room. Just let me know if you don’t like it or want another.”
“It’ll be fine,” I reply, which are my first words to her since my arrival.
“Please make yourself at home. My room is at the end of the hall,” she says, looking back the way we came.
“Peachy,” I reply, reaching for the knob.
I stop when Cynthia says, “It’s really lovely to have you here, Mia. I hope you treat this home as your own.”
I nod in response, but I hate that when I look at her, I actually feel sorry for her. I know she’s trying, but I’m not ready to play nice just yet. I need time to process everything before I think of anything that’s hers as mine.
“Thanks,” I mutter quickly, turning the doorknob and running into the safety of the room.
As soon as I enter, I stand staring, dumbfounded. This place is huge. The king-size canopy bed is draped in a black silk, jeweled duvet. The jewels throughout the design twinkle as they catch the light rays from the white lamps on the mahogany bedside tables.
A dresser with a huge mirror sits against the wall, and as I walk toward it, I can see a familiar-looking porcelain jewelry box on the smooth surface. Stepping closer, I run my finger over the ceramic and gently lift the lid, revealing an aged onyx hair comb. The brightness of the stone catches the light, and again, this item looks familiar, just as the jewelry box does.
Quinn switching the light on in the walk-in closet jars me out of my daze, and I turn to see him looking above his head at all the shelf space, whistling in awe.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit all my clothes in here,” he says, dumping our bags onto the floor.
I shake my head at his sarcasm but focus back on the comb because I don’t understand why I’m drawn to it.
“You like that?” Quinn asks from behind me as he rests his chin on my shoulder.
“Yeah, I’ve seen it before,” I reply, fingering the teeth of the comb.
“Yeah? It looks really old.”
“It does,” I reply after a few moments of silence.
Taking one final look at it and realizing that this mystery is one I won’t solve tonight, I gently close the lid and tell myself to forget I ever saw it.
“So,” I ask, turning to face him, “what do we do now?”
Quinn smirks. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I really want to check out that tub,” he says, looking over his shoulder into the huge bathroom.
I chuckle. “Go for it. I might take a look around.”
“You don’t want to join me?” He winks while toeing off his boots.
As appealing as that sounds, I need to be on my own. Everything has happened so quickly, and I just need time to digest it all.
“Maybe later.” I consider changing my mind as Quinn slips off his T-shirt, revealing a sight of pure perfection.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” he replies with a smirk as he witnesses me gawking at his snail trail.
As he reaches for the button on his jeans, I make a quick exit before I follow him into that tub, forgetting all about my plans of exploration.
Once out into the hallway, I take a deep breath and start my journey of this foreign land that Cynthia and Polly call home.
It’s safe to say Cynthia still loves her art. Abstract statues sit inside hidden alcoves along the wall, making the passageway seem like it’s inside a trendy museum. But it’s not pretentious or tasteless.
It actually gives off a calming, cultured vibe.
As I tiptoe past Polly’s room, I hear Fiona Apple humming softly, and I wonder if she’s calmed.
I know this must be hard for her, but it’s hard for me too. I don’t know if we’ll ever see eye to eye, but maybe one day we’ll get to the stage where we can stand to be in the same room together.
