AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Bathroom at the end of the hall. You and I will share.”
I don’t think I make a face, but Lee’s quick to interject.
“Trust me, you don’t want to see what Jamie does to theirs.”
We stop at two doors across from each other.
“That’s me,” he says as he points to the left one. Then, opening the other, “This is you.”
My breath hitches in surprise. I expected blank walls and maybe a quilt tossed on the bed, but this room is so much more than that.
“Hope you like it.” Lee shrugs modestly. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Decorated in tones of white, gray, and cream, the room offers a peaceful, cozy atmosphere. The bed is made with a duvet, throws, and plush pillows. Overlapping rugs cover the hardwood floor. On the windowsill, small potted plants dangle tendrils toward the floor. There’s an armoire, a desk, and a dresser with a small TV.
“You did all this for me?”
I turn to him in shock and awe. It’s really too much. I mean, it’s perfect. But so much effort.
He rolls his eyes. “The last girl had shit taste.” Lee sets mybackpack down beside the dresser. “Anyway, it’s only the essentials. Couldn’t well let you sleep on a bare mattress.”
“Thank you. This is awesome.”
He snorts a laugh, then waves it off.
“And for being here to meet me,” I say. Because all things considered, it could have gone worse, given the circumstances. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome, Abbey Bly. Bathroom’s all yours if you want to shower or freshen up. I’ll get your bags up here.”
Travel has me feeling grimy and exhausted, so I take him up on the offer and we decide to save the rest of the nice-to-meet-you conversation for tomorrow. Afterward, I lie in bed, my hair still wet as I take in the new sounds of the house at night. Staring up at the ceiling, I have no idea what I’m going to do about my dad.
I love this neighborhood. I spent weeks obsessing over photos online of the walkable tree-lined streets, the cafés and bookstores. Finding a place near enough to campus wasn’t easy with real estate in London at a premium. If I give up this house, chances are slim I’ll find something else that ticks all my boxes. Not this close to the start of the semester.
But Dad is going to flip. No way he lets me stay once he finds out.
And if I don’t have a place to live, he’ll be thrilled to drag me back home.
Goodbye, London.
It’s the strangest thing. I wake to the sounds of passing cars outside my window, of bicycles and people walking their dogs. The aural intonations of a community rousing itself to meet the day, something I haven’t experienced with regularity in years. Out at the ranch, there’s just the birds and my dad’s heavy footsteps, with no other houses in earshot. Not since we lived in LA when I was a kid have I heard the garbage trucks or car stereos outside my bedroom window. All these cues that remind me how far I am from home and howvery near to one of the great cities of the world. It starts to feel real, this journey I’ve set out for myself.
It’s enough to shake the jet lag from my brain. Then I catch whiffs of bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast, and my stomach snarls at me. Guess those pretzel sticks I saved from the plane weren’t much of a dinner.
Downstairs, I’m slightly hesitant heading into the kitchen, where I hear the noise of utensils on metal pans and someone banging around from one cabinet to another. It’s like the way a bed-and-breakfast always feels intrusive and oddly inhospitable. I live here, but not entirely yet.
“Good,” Lee says, lifting his gaze from the stove to notice me over his shoulder. “You’re up. Wasn’t sure if you’d sleep most of the day.”
“Jet lag usually hits me the second or third day. I’ll be up all night most likely.”
I’m a bit distracted by his appearance. He’s transformed. As if last night was a hallucination, today he’s dressed for an afternoon in the city: crisp navy khakis and pressed button-down shirt under a vest, finished with a silk bow tie and brown leather belt. Behind his thick-rimmed glasses, he’s almost an entirely different person.
“Have a seat.” He sets out a plate with a fork and knife at the breakfast bar. “Probably not ready for the full English. We’ll start small.”
He then proceeds to load up my plate with enough cholesterol to put down a hippo. Not that I’m complaining.
“Smells awesome.” I’ve got a mouthful of eggs before he’s even stopped shoveling food from the pan. I don’t taste so much as absorb every bite.
Lee laughs to himself, shaking his head.
