Not going to lie. I love how he’s always so turned on for me. I’ve always thought that one of the sexiest things about a person is to see how hot they are for their lover. Keno isalwaysready. At the drop of a hat.
“There’s a small café right outside the subdivision,” I say. “Right on N 59thAve. Actually, there are a bunch of options right there when you turn off West Beardsley Road on both the right and the left. We have options.”
“I hope they’re good options.”
We end up choosing the deli, which turns out to be a great decision. The sandwiches are large and delicious. However, since it’s a deli, we don’t waste a lot of time. We’re still an hour early. I end up calling Edna to tell her we’re just around the corner and she goes so high pitched with excitement, I think I hear neighboring dogs in the distance.
Hanging up, I look at Keno. “I think she’s okay with us being early.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Then let’s go.”
It doesn’t take us long to get there. A mile up the road, take a right. Straight through the roundabout and then the first right over the bridge. We’re the third house on the right. The dark one with black pillars, surrounded by really tall palms.
One of the garage doors is already open for us to pull right in. My car, which I’d left for Edna, is in the next bay.
Speaking of Edna, she’s waiting just outside the door leading into the house. Her smile is huge, and she’s practically bouncing. As soon as I get out, she jumps into my arms like she had at Christmas. I sigh, closing my eyes.
As they always seem to, it feels as if our heartbeats sync. There’s a moment when my heart gets all wonky in my chest before it picks a new rhythm. I have to assume the rhythm it’s picked is the one that matches that of my twin. As if in the time apart, they fall out of harmony, but as soon as we get back together, they re-tune and find the right tone again.
“Missed you, Eddy.”
“Missed you too, you big dumb hockey player.”
I grin at the familiar greeting. Thank fuck it’s the same as it’s always been.
Letting her go, she looks around me at Keno. I’m surprised to see she’s looking a little shy as she waves. Maybe she feels awkward since the last time she saw him, she was a complete bitch.
Her eyes meet mine again. “Okay, I think you need the grand entrance first. The way the house was meant to be seen. So, back outside and to the front.”
There’s a concrete path from the driveway intersecting with the path from the sidewalk. I’m amused and just now realizing we’re the only house with a green turf lawn. Everyone else has rocks. This feels very bougie.
Two large black columns hold up the arched roof over the second story. And yes, the front door with its round window above it is just as bougie as the turf.
“I don’t think I ever realized how much this house stuck out,” Keno says as we step up to the door. He’s looking at the neighbors’ houses as I am.
Edna snorts. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ve driven all around this place and yes, you’re the most over-the-top house in this little subdivision on the canal.”
I laugh. “Seems about right.”
“Oh,” Edna says, and spins before she opens the front door. “I meant to ask how your games went?”
“You’re going to pretend you didn’t watch us lose all three?” I ask, raising a brow.
“This is me showing an interest in your profession,” she says, sniffing and turning back. “But yes, I did see. Losing by a single goal is shit.”
I huff.
“Okay, enough about your sport. Time to see the house! Ready?” She looks over her shoulder at us with a beaming smile. I swear, she’s like a kid at Christmas.
“Ready,” Keno and I say together. I take his hand as Edna opens the door. My heart races. This isourfirst house together. Ours. I suddenly truly understand what Keno meant. This suddenly feels a whole lot more real.
We’ve only been in the house once, so in a way, it feels like we’re touring it for the first time again. Stepping inside feels like we’re walking into a magazine. Straight ahead is a feature wall with a large oval mirror in front of a table with a bouquet of whatlooklike very real flowers, but Eddy assures us they are fake—which is good because we’re never home long enough to keep real flowers alive. The walls are painted and aged in a way to look like the gray blue paint is peeling to reveal the light gray paint beneath.
To the right is an open doorway which Edna refuses to let us look through yet. Beyond the door is a tufted bench. On the opposite wall is a closed door and another doorway without a door that leads into the dining room.
“That’s the entry closet,” Edna tells us, nodding to the closed door. “Now go through the dining room.”
There was debate about whether we’d use a formal dining room, but we told Edna to go ahead and decorate as if we’d use it. It’s a mixture of elegance and comfort. The wall we’re facing is a dark gray with two tall mirrors over a banquet, making the already high ceilings feel taller. The table is black, but the chairs are soft and cushy, with the same light gray color as the rest of the walls and the drapes. Edna was brave to put carpeting under the table thinking that we’re grown up enough not to dump food on it right away.
