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This was going to take some getting used to.
I took off my jacket and rolled my sleeves to the elbow and began loading the dishwasher. She watched me in silence, sipping her coffee.
“Did you eat yet?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”
She hesitated and that brilliant smile broke over her face again.
“I would love to.”
I wiped the countertop and washed my hands carefully. “Do you have any food allergies? Any preferences what you’d like to eat?”
“No. What’s your favorite restaurant?”
“There’s a steakhouse on the east side I like.”
“Okay, let’s go there,” she said, standing and setting her empty cup aside. “Do you want to come and see what I bought for the room?”
I nodded and snagged her cup, washing it out and putting it in the dishwasher. She lingered in the doorway, watching as I scrubbed my hands and dried them on a paper towel.
“You’re really clean,” she said.
I shrugged. “You’re a little messy.”
“I am not.”
“Oh, yes, you definitely are.”
I made sure to smile so she would know I wasn’t annoyed and she lit up, ducking into the hall and leading the way to her room. She pushed open the door and I stepped inside, half expecting to cringe.
It actually looked alright.
Granted, it was not my taste, but she’d picked out some nice pieces. The bed was a soft pink now, and somehow she’d managed to order a new frame and have it delivered while I was at work. This one had a plushy headboard attached, each section pinned with a tiny crystal.
The curtains were white with little pink dots and the carpet was fluffy pink to match. Everything felt sugary sweet, almost saccharine, but it wasn’t over the line. She’d kept it tasteful and grown up.
“It’s nice,” I said.
“You hate it,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“It’s not my style, but it’s not my room.”
She spun and sat on the edge of the bed, her face going sober.
“My father was really rigid. He never let me have anything nice in my room or my closet. I kind of went a bit wild this afternoon. Sorry.”
“If this is what you need to adjust to your new life, Clara, then this is what you should do.”
She smiled again, her mouth trembling. “Thank you.”
There was a short silence and I stepped back into the hall. For some reason, it felt a bit inappropriate to be standing in her bedroom. It was also suffocating me with all the glitter and gauze and pink.
“How fancy is this place we’re going for dinner?” she called.
“It’s very nice. Wear a cocktail dress.”
