ringing through my head like the tolling of a bell.
I just want to make sure it’s going to be a secret between the two of us. It was a one-time thing…
His request — to keep the fact that we had sex a secret — really stings in a way I don't quite understand. Naturally I would keep something like that quiet. It’s a personal thing, just between Aiden and me.
But the fact that he felt the need to ask… that makes the pit of my stomach as bitter as bile.
I’m not particularly interested in seeing his handsome face, so I bury myself in work. Margaret comes home from the hospital, albeit with a twenty-four-hour nurse. Carter is also glued to her side, making space for himself in one of the spare bedrooms on the second floor.
I spend ten hours a day engrossed in my work. I’ve moved on from cataloging to digitizing, scanning each piece of paper and every page of each book into a specialized digital scanner. It’s kind of mind numbing, the process of scanning every piece of paper and then transferring it to a special kind of plastic casing. When I’m done with about a hundred documents, I carefully stack their casings together and store them in an acid-free box.
Now the tide has turned, so to speak. Where once there were huge stacks of paper, now there are less-huge stacks of boxes, neatly labeled with the years of the documents within. The only issue is where to put them all.
I hate the idea of stacking them downstairs in the now-clean library. I want people to be able to enjoy the library, the wood gleaming from its most recent polish with lemon-scented wax.
Heading down the staircase from the second floor to the first, I turn the issue over in my mind. There are so many rooms here, filled with unused objects. Surely no one would mind if I made space in one of the many bedrooms?
I should ask Margaret. Or Carter, if she’s not feeling up to making decisions.
When I make it downstairs, I head to the front parlor. The French doors are closed, giving me pause. Does that mean Margaret has fallen asleep in here?
Knocking very lightly, I’m surprised when Carter pulls one of the doors open right away. There is a cautious expression on his face.
“Olivia,” he intones.
A high-pitched woman’s voice instructs him from behind the door. “Don’t be rude, darling. Open the door all the way, let us all have a peek.”
Carter groans a little but pushes the door open more fully. I peer inside, finding Margaret napping in the corner, slumped with a pillow stuck under her head. Surrounding her are a couple of her older nieces that I met the other day, looking haughty as ever. One woman leans closer to me, her dark red lipstick matching her pantsuit exactly. Her dark hair gleams, especially set against her heavy gold earrings. To my surprise, she appears Middle Eastern.
I look between her and Carter, only then putting it together. Of course she’s his mom. I don't know why I automatically assumed that she would be white. She sees my distress and smiles knowingly.
“Mother,” Carter says. “This is Olivia. She’s doing some work on the family archives. Olivia, this is my mother Sandrene Morgan.”
The older woman reaches out a hand to me from half a dozen paces away, holding it aloft to be greeted. As I scramble to take it, I can’t help but notice the gigantic diamond ring she is still wearing. When I grasp her hand, it is cool to the touch.
Sandra pins me with her dark gaze.
“Call me Sandra, Charmed, I’m certain,” she says. Her accent is Persian, maybe… Her lipstick gleams; it is nothing if not enthralling.
“It’s a pleasure, ma’am.” I curtsy, even though I’m sure that’s not the appropriate greeting.
She smiles ruefully. “So Aunt Margaret has been paying you to… do what, exactly?”
“Mother,” Carter warns. “This is not an interrogation.”
“What?” Sandra says playfully. “I’m sure Olivia can tell us about all the work she’s been doing. Isn’t that right, dear?”
My cheeks heat a little. I definitely don't understand what kind of family dynamic I’ve walked in on, but I do understand that I am being put on the spot. Clearing my throat, I smile.
“It’s okay. I have been really busy. I’ve manually catalogued the files I was given, and scanned most of them. Then comes the digital catalogue. I actually came down here to ask if I can move the