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And given how large the library part of this room is, it’s going to take the whole day.
Gloria had a ladder sent in ahead of me. I stare up at it as I swallow back my fear of heights. It’s a job, it’s keeping me busy, and it’s ensuring our safety as well as housing. I can stomach a measly little climb so my baby gets to have good food in her stomach.
“Whoa!” Willow gasps when we settle into the study. Her eyes are wide as she scans the tall bookcases, taking in the dozens of books stored on the shelves. “Demyen loves stories.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that half of these books are on law and real estate. “He sure does.”
“Oh! Guess what?” She carefully nestles her doll—Maple, she decided yesterday after asking me to list every tree name I could think of—into the corner of an overstuffed reading chair and straightens out the tiny skirt. “Demyen says if we’re really good, he’ll take us to Disney World!”
If we’re really good.Right. I know his game. And the protective maternal side in me wants to slap his face for playing it with my little girl.
“That sounds fun, baby.”
I sigh as I stare up at the top shelf of the first bookcase. It makes sense to dust first, scrub second, but that means I have to climb all the way to the top of the ladder just to reach with the feather duster.
And the part of me that insists on being super thorough in everything I do is whispering the fact that I really should take all the books off the shelf to wipe it down with furniture polish.
Dammit.
With a sigh, I start the journey upward.
The first trip up isn’t as bad as I expected. The ladder is new, stable, sturdy, and doesn’t creak or groan when I pile books on the top rung so I can spray the polish and do a quick wipe-down. My left hand is white-knuckling the ladder while my right hand sweeps the microfiber cloth around in circles, but I do it as quickly as possible so I can climb down as soon as possible.
“Mommy, I don’t know which story this one is.”
I literally cannot look and see which one she’s talking about, even though I know that’s what she wants me to do. “It’s okay, baby. We’re still working on words. What do the pictures look like? Tell me the story from those.”
I hear her hum in concentration and I hide the sigh of relief.Whatever keeps her busy.
“She’s pretty. But she looks sad. And dirty. Really, really dirty.”
“What is she doing in that picture?” I move the next set of books onto the top rung, preparing to tackle the second half of that shelf.
“It looks like she’s cleaning the fireplace.”
I’m pretty sure I know which story she’s opened to. “Are there mice? And birds?”
“Yeah!” Willow giggles. “And they’re helping her clean!”
Willow sometimes helps me clean. Sometimes. Her attempts usually cause more mess, but Gloria never says anything and I don’t ever want to discourage Willow from volunteering to pitch in. Lord knows she could stand to apply that energy to her own room.
“Her family looks mean.” I hear the frown in her little voice. Without looking, I know she’s pouting. “They’re making her do all the work.”
Been there, done that.
I’m finally able to move to the next shelf down, which means the next ten minutes will be spent a foot closer to the ground.Thank God.
“Ooooh! A fairy! She’s really pretty, Mommy. And she made a new dress!” Willow grins and points at the page. I spare a glance this time, now that I’m not clinging for dear life. “Look! It’s white and sparkly, just like that one you wore!”
I pause. It is, actually. “Well, look at that. You’re right!”
“Where’s she going, Mommy?”
I sigh with a smile and start pulling books from the shelf. “Oh, you know. Girl just needs a night off. Away from all the chores, all the screaming. She just wants to go somewhere where nobody knows her so she can wander around and get lost in all the lights and magic.”
For a moment, I’m not sure if I’m describing Cinderella’s experience or my own. Because that’s exactly what I wanted the night I put on a new sparkly dress and wandered into The Meridian.
Willow gasps. If I didn’t have fifty pounds of leatherbound legalese balanced in one arm, I’d whip around to see if she’s okay. “What?”
