Matt came up behind me and must have seen me gawking over Constance’s domestic skill.

“Irritating isn’t it?” he asked, shaking his head.

I breathed a laugh in agreement.

“She gets more done in an hour than I could in a day, even if I did get off of the couch,” he admitted shamefully.  “When’s dinner?”  He asked.  Matt made an attempt at sticking his finger in the sauce simmering on the stove.  I snickered as he recoiled from the spoon Constance swatted at his hand.

Constance replied, pointing the wooden utensil at him.  “When Alex gets home.”

I felt an unexpected flutter of excitement in my stomach just at the mention of his name.

“We might be waiting a while,” he said nonchalantly.  “He’s still out with Chloe.”

I shouldn’t have cared, but I wondered if Chloe was the reason he didn’t make it home last night.

“Sorry, Kat.  I thought he would be home for dinner.”

Constance’s cheery demeanor shifted to frustration, while her eyes gave in to concern.

“That’s okay,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed.

Irrationally let down by another no-show, I figured this to be as good a time as any to look around.

At the top of the tapered stairs a large oil painting of a sail boat filled the wall in front of me.  To my right, the landing opened up to an enormous sitting area.  The far wall of the room was lined floor to ceiling with books stacked on shelves.  I ran my fingers along the book spines glimpsing a couple of titles as I walked around the room.  Several books looked like they had been passed down for many generations.  The titles were nearly worn off of several, from use I’m sure.  I had never seen such an impressive personal collection of antique books.  Finally, something I had in common with the Hamlin’s-an appreciation for literature.  I promised myself that I would return later to more thoroughly examine the library.

Closest to the corner of the banister, overlooking the first floor was a Steinway Grande piano.  It was more ornamental than the ones I had seen with its intricate scroll work and thick, curvy legs.  Not a speck of dust or a single fingerprint tainted its sleek black finish.  I ran my fingers along the smooth ivory keys.  Then, overwhelmed by temptation, I lightly tapped out a few notes.

“Hello.”  Came a sharp, disapproving voice.

Comments
  1. dollyperry says:

    I love your voice. It’s very strong and graceful.

    Just a quick question.
    Matt dipped his finger into a hot pot of sauce. Would that hurt? He doesn’t seem to have a reaction. Neither do Kat or Constance. And if it doesn’t hurt, is Constance okay with him putting his hand in the food? I expected her to scold him.

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