a time. Maybe if they don’t speak to each other for an entire week, everything will blow over. One can hope.
Melissa stares up at the hulking cabin and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I guess it’s big enough.”
I can’t tell if she’s trying to be funny, or if the woman who helps families fit into the shoe boxes they can afford has genuinely become that spoiled: the home in front of us is easily big enough for twenty people.
There’s a dusty old sedan parked along one side of the house, and I’m hoping the keys are inside. As we approach the front door, I see our bags are waiting for us on the porch.
“I have no idea what kind of magic was involved in them beating us here,” Carey says under her breath, “but I’m into it.”
There’s an envelope taped to the front door, and I pull it off. Opening it, I find a key and a short welcome note from the property manager. Once I have everything unlocked, Melissa sweeps past her luggage and disappears inside.
A glance at Carey’s hands tells me she’s not having a good day: they’re rock solid, curled into fists, and even when she tries to shake them out I know that carrying even the smallest bag inside is going to be a challenge. How physically exhausting must it be to focus on every movement, to feel like your own muscles are fighting you, I think. I’m suddenly and blindingly furious with Melissa for being so consistently inconsiderate.
But Carey is Carey, and immediately reaches for the closest suitcase. I wave her off, she gives me a tiny, grateful smile, and guilt drills a hole in my stomach. If it weren’t for my encouragement, she would have quit before we got to Portland and would probably be home by now. I remind myself that in a few weeks we’ll both be out of this mess and in a better position. “Go figure out where we’re all sleeping, and I’ll bring these in.”
When she disappears inside, I take a moment to appreciate the masterful design of the property. The porch platform, columns, and cornice are constructed from the same beautiful redwood that frames each window; the finial and valleys of the roof are deep, sharp angles that make my blood sing.
Inside, the front door opens to an enormous entryway: The house is two broad stories and the second floor overlooks the foyer, with a knobby cherry railing lining a circular view down onto the gleaming hardwood floor. There is a huge living room straight ahead of me, a fireplace flanked by twin casement windows with lead glass, from floor to ceiling, that overlook the river. An expansive chef’s kitchen stretches to the right of the front foyer, and a hall to the left of the entryway leads, I find, to a family room, entertainment suite, and game room.
Carey calls from upstairs: “I have Melly and Rusty each situated, and there are ten bedrooms left. How picky are you feeling?”
“I feel like a room with a bed is fine,” I tell her.
She leans over the railing, looking down at me, and I wonder if she feels it, too, that heat that seems to blanket us whenever we’re making contact—whether it’s physical, verbal, or just eye contact like this across an open space. Do I want my room to be next to hers so that we can sneak into bed together in the middle of the night? Yes, absolutely. Is that the best way to make sure this week doesn’t end in disaster? Probably not.
“I’m going to give you the blue room,” she says, and grins. “It’s a nautical theme, so I expect you to speak like a pirate all week.”
“Aye, matey, give me a wee breath and I’ll bring yar duffel upstairs.”
She laughs, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her where her room is, but Melissa comes out of the suite at the end of the hall upstairs and pulls up short, staring at us like we’re breaking a rule by speaking while unsupervised. Carey shrinks back into a room down the hall.
Well, at least now I know where she’ll be sleeping.
The back door opens, and Rusty comes in, tracking mud across the kitchen tiles. I wave my arms wildly and, once he looks up, point to his boots. He full-body winces, like he knows if his wife sees this, he’s a dead man. For the next two minutes, we’re silently and hysterically searching