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“A major step up from the apartment we rented our senior year.”
“With the tiniest shower in the history of showers,” Sonya remembered, with the fondness of distance. “And the tub drain that actually went glug-glug-glug.”
“Good times.”
They walked into Cleo’s bedroom. No clothes lay on the neatly turned-down bed. No suitcases sat on the floor.
“Okay, wow. Yeah, some getting used to.” Cleo opened the closet. “There’s not only more hanging in here, it’s organized by type and color.”
“She does that with mine, too. It has to be a she.”
Nodding, Cleo walked to her dresser, checked drawers. Nodded again and moved into the bathroom.
“Shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, my poof, all there. Skin care in the top left vanity drawer,” she noted. “High octane skin care below. Makeup on the right, organized by category, and hair stuff in the middle cabinet. Efficient.”
She stepped back. “I appreciate this, very much.” Then turned to Sonya. “I’m going to check the other closet.”
In the second bedroom closet, the suitcases were stacked on the floor under the clothes.
“I think she likes being useful,” Sonya said. “And yeah, has to be a she.”
“I wish we knew her name.”
“So do I. I think she must have been a servant. I started to make one up for her, but that seems wrong.”
Her phone jumped out with Little Richard’s classic “Good Golly Miss Molly.”
“Molly!” they said together.
“You know what else that means?” Cleo said.
“They know each other. Clover either knew Molly when they were alive or…”
“They got acquainted after. Thank you, Molly, for saving me so much time. I don’t see my spring and fall jackets in here.”
“I bet we find them in the coat closet downstairs. Efficient. She—Molly—does like to play with things. Perfume, pretty things.”
“She can play with mine all she wants. Are you up for carrying the rest to the studio?”
“That’s the plan, and Molly saved us half an hour.”
They carted the first load up. The minute she stepped into the studio, Cleo set her box on the desk, did a turn.
“OhGod!I love this space. It’s absolutely perfect. Look, the moon’s up, over the water.”
From the Gold Room came the pounding.
“Oh, fuck off,” Cleo snapped. “You can’t spoil this for me.”
After setting her box beside Cleo’s, Sonya looked around. “It is perfect, and the view slays, but are you sure you’ll be all right up here?”
“Bet your ass. I’m going to get the last box.”
“Trey put what you sent with Mom marked for the studio in the closet. What the hell was in that big box? It weighed a ton.”
“Mostly canvases and paints, more tools. I’m going to take time between jobs—and make more time between jobs—to paint. For me. Be right back.”
When Cleo dashed off, Sonya did her own turn. The pounding lowered to a few angry slams.
