“Where are they?” I craned my neck. I didn’t remember seeing anyone else. There was no one in the kitchen, and the counters were spotless. They must have cooked, then left. Odd that we didn’t pass them on the stairwell. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
The idea of having a personal chef seemed too decadent for me. And given what the exterior of the house looked like, and the fact that no customer had come in or out of the business while I wept in the lobby, I had concerns about finances. As amazing as this lunch was, I’d have to consider surviving on frozen meals for a while.
We barely talked while I ate, mostly because I was hoovering food like a starving person. I’d been surviving on takeout for a week. Even this simple meal seemed like a five-star feast. When we finished, Brianne took the dishes to the sink, murmuring a quickthank youunder her breath. She walked to the short hallway and motioned for me to follow.
“Down this way is a bedroom, with a comfortable bed you’ll never want to leave. There are toiletries in the bathroom, and I suspect you’ll find something to wear in the closet.” She took my hand and guided me. “Why don’t you have a shower and a nap, or if it were me, I’d have a nap and a shower, and we can talk more later this evening. Your board meeting is at six. That gives you plenty of time to get yourself together. A lot’s about to happen, Simone. More than you know, I suspect.”
She gave me a fierce hug, then rushed out the door, leaving me suddenly alone. Despite just having met her, I wish she’d stayed. Everything was overwhelming, and while I appreciated her giving me space to process, I had too many questions to rest.
There were a hundred thoughts racing, and a dozen things I wanted to do. Review the copy of the will that Ethan had given me earlier that day. Wander this beautiful space that, despite Agatha being well over a hundred years old, was decorated in a style I could only describe as mine. Go back downstairs and view each of the divisions of the wellness center, get a feel for the clientele, and figure out what therapy and haircuts had to do with one another.
Where did I start? Did I dance around skipping and shouting yippee? I didn’t much like dancing these days. I wanted to share the news withsomeone. I sent a quick text to my son. A text I knew he would ignore. Again.
Maybe I should tell my husband. Maybe Jeff and I could work things out if we moved here together? He had his faults, but if he could help me get the business built…
I stopped myself. Jeff’s betrayal kept landing on me in strange waves. I’d get angry, then heartbroken, then forget all about it. Was that because of this new development? Or was that because, if I looked deep down, I’d have to admit we’d been living somewhat separate lives since his surgery? Catching him cheating had been shocking, but I couldn’t say I was surprised our marriage went sideways.
I was too overwhelmed to go down that rabbit hole. He’d called every day while I slept in my office, but not once had he come to see me. My phone held a slew of unread texts and unopened voice notes. I’d finally put him on ignore. Jeff had a way with words, and I didn’t trust myself to hear him out. So, for now, I needed to stay away from cheating Jeff and his silver tongue.
“I hope you bite that silver tongue of yours every time you try to use it to lie, Jeffy-poo.”
Saying it out loud, no matter how silly, made me feel better. All these bubbles of anger and betrayal were floating inside me, and each time one popped, it released a little bit of the pressure holding me in place.
Man, I was exhausted. Mentally and physically and emotionally weary. And I was standing in the middle of a space that wasn’t officially mine but felt like it, letting my internal monologue overwhelm me. I walked the short hallway toward the front of the building, which oddly was the back of my house. There were two rooms. A small office on the left I promised myself I’d look into later and the bedroom I would inhabit for at least the next thirty days.
I turned right, then stopped short to take it in. Wow. How could this be possible?
If I could have designed my dream bedroom, this is what it would look like. There was a gabled ceiling with thick wooden posts that met at the peak. The walls were the softest shade of beige I’d ever seen, except for the accent wall opposite the windows, which was a deep green that made me think of a forest. It soothed the eye, creating this natural, earthy vibe that spoke to my inner wanderlust.
It was sparsely furnished but felt open rather than empty. Asidefrom the bed, there were simple nightstands, an armoire, and two chests of drawers. The windows were cracked open, allowing in a cool breeze that seemed impossible for the South in mid-July. Even though the windows opened to the town, I couldn’t hear any outside noises. Long, sage curtains billowed with the breeze.
It was almost like they pointed at the bed. With butter-like sheets and a mountain of pillows, I couldn’t wait to slide into it. Brianne was right… nap first, shower second. I checked one of the drawers and found a pair of cotton shorts and a matching shirt in my size. In fact, a quick check of the rest of the clothes showed me that all of it was my size. I stopped again and looked around the room.
The more at home I felt, the more certain I was that someone had cleaned this space after Agatha’s death and prepared it for me. If she had passed a week earlier, that seemed like a lot of work. Maybe Agatha herself had done it, though I’m not sure how a woman a century old who hadn’t seen me in thirty years would know my tastes.Ididn't even know my tastes.
It was one more thing I needed to understand. After a nap. I dropped my phone on the charging station, set an alarm, and burrowed into the comfiest bed on the entire planet. I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.
I awoke before my alarm, feeling like I’d slept for days rather than hours. I stood up to stretch, reaching my arms overhead the way I did every morning. Oddly, my shoulders weren’t aching, and my low back wasn’t tight. I guess sleeping on the right mattress really did matter. Jeff and I were still using the crappy bed we’d bought fresh out of college. A new mattress had been on my list, but money was a factor, particularly since my business was failing and we were neck-deep in hospital bills.
I put that thought aside. If I had the luxury of thirty days on a comfy mattress that didn’t make me wake up feeling like I was nearing ninety instead of fifty, I would take it with gratitude.
The bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house. I hated massive bathrooms, where you always felt cold when you stepped out of the shower. This one was the perfect size. With green features that gave it a cohesive flow from the bedroom—and royal purple accents—it was both peaceful and whimsical.
The shower had one of those fancy waterfall heads that pummeled all the tension out of my shoulders. I’d planned to stand under it untilthe water turned cold. After thirty minutes, my skin was pruning and the water was the same temperature.
Now that my basic needs were met, a whisper of anxiety was sliding into my mind. This board meeting was my first opportunity to meet everyone. How did they feel about Agatha leaving everything to a stranger? If it were me, I’d be upset. Then again, maybe they liked not having the responsibility or the pressure I was beginning to realize was building inside. I’d already run one business into the ground. Did they know that? Whatdidthey know about me?
I couldn’t hide in the shower forever. After toweling off, I inspected the drawers in the massive vanity on the off chance I would find a spare toothbrush.
What I found shouldn’t have surprised me. Whoever had taken the time to prepare the bedroom thought of everything. Not only could I brush my teeth, but the drawers were fully stocked with a full line of face and hair products. I inspected the matching labels that readMagnolia Beauty. They were the same as the logo downstairs in the lobby. We had a beauty line, too?
The makeup bore the same logo, not that I had any idea what to do with it. I’d always been anau naturelkind of person. Not by choice. Mostly, I was inept when it came to anything other than slapping on lipstick and a quick swipe of mascara. Even then, I somehow ended up with black goop under my eyes.
I didn’t want to have a heavy, caked-on appearance. But one look in the gold-framed mirror told me that a week of misery was taking its toll. Heavy bags and dull features reflected at me. I could at least look presentable when I met everyone. I hoped.
I grabbed my phone and searched for makeup videos, stopping at the now familiar signature that matched our logo.
Holy cow. We had a YouTube channel with over two million followers!
