Lost in La La Land(45)

I tried to stick as closely to his taste as I could, honoring it as this had been his house before it was mine. It was a way of keeping him here without needing to see his ghost.

I had come to terms with the fact that he was never going to haunt me.

My husband had left the earth and gone to heaven because he had no unfinished business. It wasn’t a scientific finding, but a common sense one. He loved me and had lived a wonderful life, doing all the things he wanted to when he wanted them. He never had a bucket list; he just acted when he saw something he wanted.

The very opposite of me.

I was the one stuck with the list of things I wished I’d done. I was the one with regrets.

One afternoon as Lana slept in the machine, something she did far more than I did now, I left the room to show Mr. Daley a site I’d found with handmade wooden furniture.

He was leaning against the kitchen table, mulling over a plan and speaking to a man. The guy offered me a wrinkled nose look, possibly one of disgust, one I’d gotten used to. But Mr. Daley turned and smiled. It was genuine and lit the room up. “Emma, how’s it going?” His eyes darted to the disgusted man. “We’re done. Go show them what I mean.” His tone changed as he spoke to the man who left us alone. He softened again as I got closer. “How’s everyone feeling?”

“Good.” I smiled, offering the tablet. I noticed how dirty his hands were but his nails were clean and filed. I couldn't say the same for my hands. They were clean but my nails were chipped and stained. I didn't even know what it was; I hadn’t done any of the construction. “I found this site, they make wooden furniture and I liked one of the desks. I couldn’t save it on Pinterest, and I didn't want to order it without consulting the decorator.” I laughed. “Seems foolish to have to ask permission to buy a desk, but I would hate to disappoint him if he has other schemes.”

He laughed with me, nodding. “Safe bet there. Leave it with me and I’ll take a look and see what he says.” The sparkle in his eyes was only there randomly. Today must have been a good day.

“Thank you. They have beautiful shelves too, for the books. I’ll have to go through them all and give some away. They won’t fit in the office. I’ve got a hoarding issue with them if I’m being honest.”

“You love books?” he asked like he was confirming.

“I love books. The traveling and the knowledge and the glimpses into a stranger’s heart. Reading is the greatest escape there is. You don't have to leave your home, or worry about anything. You just crack a book and let it drag you inside. And now I have too many.”

“But if you love something, is there such a thing as too many?”

“Perhaps not.” I laughed and felt awkward as I lingered just a moment too long before turning and leaving him there.

I needed to wash my hands and file my nails.

Weeks passed and the house moved along. We could smell it in the dust and paint and drywall mud.

We never went upstairs, allowing for the surprise ending Mr. Daley suggested he wanted. It was odd imagining him wanting to surprise me, a person he barely regarded. I wished I could say the same for him but there was something about him I found challenging. I wanted to see him smile, perhaps be the one who made him smile. And not that bitter grin he offered, but a real and genuine one. Maybe because he was doing so much for me.

“The hammering is driving me insane,” Lana growled on the third week of construction. “My head vibrates every time they start again.”

“I know, mine too. But we’re halfway. It’s almost over. Once they move into the basement we won’t even hear them,” I lied.

“Yesterday one of them peed in the garden. I saw him from the window.”

“Gross.” I wrinkled my nose, disgusted and yet almost grateful they peed outside and not inside. “How is Celeste?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Wonderful. We’re discussing a second baby, she’s been so delightful. And you, how is Wentworth?”

“Breathtakingly perfect.” Heat rose in my cheeks as I contemplated one of Jane Austen’s men having sex. The fade to black just didn't do them justice, for what lingered in the dark was better than anything I’d ever had in the real world.

“You seem different.”

“Oh, I am.” I chuckled. “I assure you, I am altered from it all. A changed woman. I had no idea.” I joked about Wentworth but truth be told, the renovation had started to inflict itself on my time in the story. And I wasn't going into the machine as often as before, and I was preoccupied with the renovation when I was there.

“Hmmmm, sounds perfect.” Lana grinned with knowledge and confidence. She knew what I was talking about.

“Shall we?” I asked as I got up, bringing my tea and heading for the office we were working in on the main floor while the top floor was being completed. Mr. Daley had promised it was days away from being done.

The leaking roof and damp attic were fixed.

The floors had been redone upstairs and the plaster pulled away, replaced with drywall and paint, no more wallpaper. I’d seen enough plaster and wallpaper to last a lifetime.

We had three ensuites added to the largest of the seven bedrooms upstairs and we had them make us a proper room for the machines and beds. I had asked that it resemble my old office almost perfectly.