“It’s beyond words,” Beryl breathed.
“It’s a little masculine,” Harper admitted. “But I don’t mind it one bit. I’ve come to really feel at home here.”
Behind the bed, the wall was painted like a night sky. Deep blue with constellations picked out in gold. Over the dark wood floor lay a thick rug patterned with medallions of blue and tan on a white background. The rest of the walls were white, as was the ceiling, where more gold constellations gleamed softly. The windows and sliding glass doors that led to the covered part of the deck overlooking the water were trimmed with sheer white curtains on brass rods.
A sturdy rattan armchair sat next to a big dresser painted in the same deep blue as the wall behind the bed. Antique maps, framed in dark wood and rattan, adorned the walls. The bed was dressed in white linens trimmed in more deep blue. Two squat, round ottomans woven from thick rope sat at the end of the bed. The chandelier over the bed was also made of rope and looked like it could have been taken from a pirate ship.
“I think it’s lovely,” Joyce said. “It suits the house, and it suits you. Doesn’t surprise me that you feel comfortable in this space.” She glanced at Harper. “I mean this very much as a compliment, but you have a good deal of masculine energy. You’re fearless and bold and you aren’t afraid to go after what you want.”
Beryl nodded. “Sailors used to use the stars to navigate. This is the room of someone who knows where they’re going in life. I don’t know you as well as my sister does, but her assessment seems spot-on to me.”
Harper had never thought about it that way. “I like that a lot. I don’t know if I’m always quite that fearless, but I do try.”
She showed them the bathroom, which was pretty impressive, then took them down the hall in the other direction. She stood at the office door. “Frankie’s been using this space a lot for her work. She’s an illustrator and she’s working onbuilding her business now, as it’s her main source of income. She’s moved to the rec room downstairs to do some painting.”
Joyce nodded. “She did Lucas’s logo. And that darling portrait of Scout.”
“Oh,” Beryl said. “I saw those. She’s very good.”
Harper moved into the room and pointed out the watercolor on the far wall. “She painted that. It’s theSojourner.”
“Just like the movie,” Beryl said. Her brows lifted. “Arlington won an Oscar for that, you know.”
“I know,” Harper answered. “That’s why I had her do it. I gave him that painting as a gift.”
“And he put it in this house for you to have.” Joyce clasped her hands together. “What a dear thing to do, knowing he was leaving this place to you.”
“It was kind,” Harper admitted. “We can go upstairs next, then we’ll take the elevator down to the rec room.”
Joyce and Beryl stepped back into the hall, Harper behind them. Just as they did that, a figure draped in a blanket knocked on the glass door that opened onto the breezeway.
Beryl screamed and clutched at her chest with one hand and her sister with the other, making Joyce jerk back.
Harper gasped, then realized who it was, and laughed. She guessed the blanket was Jack’s attempt to hide his face from the paparazzi. “It’s all right, ladies. Nothing to be afraid of.”
She opened the door and let Jack in.
“Sorry, didn’t know you had company.” He let the blanket fall around his shoulders and smiled as he saw Joyce. “Joycie! Hello, beautiful.”
“Jackson Marsh.” She smiled. “How are you, love?”
He dropped the bag he was holding to hug her. “Better now, man.”
Harper wasn’t surprised they knew each other. The Marshes and the Ripleys had been friends a long time.
“It’s lovely to see you” Joyce said. “Jackson, this is my sister, Beryl.”
Beryl had recovered from her fright and was starry-eyed and smiling.
Jack grinned. “Nice to meet you, Beryl. I can see the family resemblance. Are all the women in your family such knockouts?”
Beryl tittered and put her hand to her mouth.
Joyce tutted and shook her head.
Jack went on. “I was just coming to show Frankie how my knitting is coming along.” He looked over Beryl at Harper. “I didn’t know you had company, man. Sorry if I’m intruding.”
“It’s fine. Joyce made brownies for Willa, and we just sort of turned it into a girls night.”
