I looked around. “You have a very beautiful home,” I said.
She nodded. “It’s taken me a couple of years to get everything the way I like it, but I’m happy with it now,” she said.
I was struck by how coordinated everything was, how clean and gleaming.
There were textures everywhere—feathers and flock, velvet, silk—and jewel colors.
“It’s like an aerie where a beautiful bird would nest,” I said. “A quetzal, or an imperial eagle.”
She appeared to be struggling for an appropriate response, strangely.
Surely a simple “thank you” would have sufficed?
After a silence, not too uncomfortable because of the fizzy bubble drink, she asked me about work, and I explained what I did, and how I knew Raymond.
We looked over at him—he was perched on the arm of Sammy’s chair, laughing at something one of her brothers had said.
“You could do worse, you know,” she said, with a sly smile. “I mean, if you tidied him up a bit, decent haircut...”
It took me a moment to grasp what she meant. “Oh no,” I said, “you completely misunderstand. I already have someone.
He’s handsome and sophisticated and talented—a cultured, educated man.”
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