Grandma twinkles her fingers at us as I push Klein from the room, luggage in tow.
“Phew,” I say, careening with him into the living room. “Two topics I don’t want to discuss: my mother’s sex life, and mine.”
Klein looks around the living room, taking in hissurroundings. “I think your grandma and my mom would be best friends if they ever met.”
“They’d probably turn into a formidable team of feisty, crime fighting superheroines.”
Klein steps up to a shelf on the media center, peering at the jars of small shells and sea glass my siblings and I collected over the years. The same shelf holds a book on the history of the island, and a second book about the animals and native plant life.
He lifts his arm like he’s going to remove the books, then draws his hand back.
“You can read those. They’re not one of those doorstop coffee table books nobody ever reads. They’re meant to be enjoyed.”
Klein takes both books and tucks them under his arm. “Coffee table books are my pet peeve.”
“That tracks.”
Through the living room we go down the hall, passing a bedroom with two sets of bunk beds. Next up is the bedroom commandeered by me and Sienna every summer. A quick peek as we pass tells me not much about it has changed. Same floral bedspread, same Roman shades on the windows.
The end of the hall is our destination, the second main bedroom with its own, glorious bathroom. And glass shower that faces the window, and beyond that, the beach.
In another time, when this was my mom and dad’s room, I’d sneak in to use the shower. Sharing a bathroom with my brother and sister was less than ideal; Sienna stole my products, and Spencer ignored all warnings thatif he didn’t start flushing the toilet, he was going to be forced to sleep outside.
That feels like a lifetime ago. Does a decade count as a lifetime? That’s how long it’s been since that final summer with the Royce’s vacationing as a family of five. One glance out the bedroom window at precisely the exact moment when my dad and the neighbor slipped into a movie-worthy kiss, and that was it.
But I won’t think about that now. Hopefully, I’ll think of it as little as possible.
“Here we are,” I announce, stepping into the room.
“Wow,” Klein says, walking in behind me.
A large window running three-quarters of the length of the wall greets us, the sparkling late afternoon ocean beyond. Curtains frame the window in a delicate white lace. A chair, upholstered in nautical blue and white stripes, is positioned beside the window. I can already see Klein sitting there, reading his books. Outlining his next novel.
One wall houses the dresser, and the entrance to the bathroom. Opposite that is my second favorite part of this room, a shiplap wall where the bed and two night stands are situated. The bed is a king, with a matching headboard and footboard that looks like taupe woven ropes. The bedding is textured, white, with throw pillows to match the blue stripes of the chair. And?—
Oh no.
I look sharply at Klein.
His hands are in his pockets, his lips pursed.
Klein already knows, but I say it aloud anyway. “There’s only one bed.”
How in the world did I not see that coming a mile away? Of course there’s only one bed. There has only ever been one bed in this room.
My mind races. Is my head exploding? It feels like it.
“Paisley.” Klein takes hold of my shoulders. “Calm down. Maybe we can find an air mattress somewhere and I’ll sleep on that.”
I nod, though I have little confidence. Guilt pokes at me. I didn’t haul Klein across the United States so he could sleep on an air mattress.
And yes, he has promised me an epically good kiss, but that doesn’t mean we need to share a bed. Right?
Klein opens his carry-on suitcase and sets about unpacking. I do the same, starting with hanging the dress in the closet. With the lightest touch, I admire the fabric. I’m the only person in the wedding party wearing a pattern. Carolina blue roses on a white background, floor-length with a corset top and three rows of ruffles on the bottom. It swings, with a hidden slit that reaches mid-thigh. I have to hand it to Sienna, she has exceptional taste. The three remaining bridesmaids will wear various style dresses all in a shade of blue that matches mine.
With a final look at the stunner of a dress, I close the closet and make my way into the bathroom with my toiletries.
“Do you mind if I put on some music?” Klein calls.
