I just want to see Helen’s room, Eve thought to herself. Then I will go home. She can have this life. It’s not for me.
She’d come to the conclusion that reality was not quite like the books she had read. She was actually quite disappointed by it. She had hoped for chivalry, respect and all the delightful things she read about in her Jane Austin books. Right now, she just wanted to go back home and break up with her boyfriend and find someone new.
But first, she wanted to see more of the home she remembered so differently. She wanted to see her ancestor’s room, see her brushes, her hair barrettes, her pens and inks and writing papers. She let Virginia lead her, feigning exhaustion and a headache. Virginia stopped in front of the door to the room that was across from what Eve remembered as her grandmother’s room. She couldn’t help glancing back at the door and wondering what it was like on the other side. Virginia mistook her glance and said, “Do you want me to go find your father or mother? They aren’t in their room right now, you know. They are down there with the guests.”
Eve looked down at the shorter woman. She hadn’t looked directly at Virginia before and noticed that her face was long and narrow, and she had a thin straight nose that pointed like an arrow on the end. It actually fit her other features quite nicely. She smiled.
“I know. Yes, if you want to get my father for me, I would love to talk to him for a moment.”
“I will do that, Helen! Now you get some rest. I’ll send him right down.”
“Thank you, Virginia, you are really sweet.”
Virginia laughed, giving her a peculiar look. “You are so strange tonight, Helen! When did you start calling me Virginia? Even your dear cousin calls me Ginny. Why did you stop?”
Eve giggled. “I am not myself when I am this tired, Ginny. There. Is that better?”
Virginia laughed again. “Yes, quite! All right, honey, I’ll go fetch your father.”
Eve nodded and turned the knob on the door as her friend hurried back down the hallway in the direction they had just come from. She bit her lips together as the door swung open, moving her eyes slowly over the contents of the room.
As soon as she stepped across the threshold, she felt better. She recognized the dressing table where Helen put her makeup on and brushed her hair. In her time, it was in the attic with a thick blanket over it to protect it. She walked around the room very slowly, touching the items she saw around her. They were so new. Dust free. She ran her fingers over a soft sweater laying over the back of a chair.
She stopped at the double doors to the closet. She bit her bottom lip and opened them. She pulled in a deep breath, her eyes opening wide. The closet was filled with beautiful gowns. She fingered through them, feeling the fabric, lace and silk. They were so pretty.
“Someone has good taste,” she whispered.
A few minutes later, she sat on the bed and waited for her father. Helen’s father. She smiled. She was comfortable. The bed was soft. The pillows were fluffy. She laid back on it and spread her arms out wide.
A knock on the door drew her attention away, and she sat up abruptly.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and an older man stuck his head in. “Helen?”
“Hello…father.” She said hesitantly.
He came in with a smile, and she immediately felt comfortable with him. His face was warm and welcoming, his love for his daughter apparent. He came directly to her and sat next to her on the bed.
“Are you all right, dear? Ginny said you were acting strange, and I must say, it’s been some time since you’ve called me ‘father’.”
He put one arm around her shoulders and squeezed, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. She giggled. “I’m sorry, papa,” she said, hoping that was the right thing to say.
“There you go. Now what’s wrong, dear? What are you worried about?”
“I’m not worried, papa. Just a little tired.”
“Well, you need to get some rest then.” She loved the deep resonance of his voice. “Ginny is right, you look different.”
“I do?” She felt a bit of fear run through her chest.
“Yes. You look…happier. Your voice has a lift to it that wasn’t there before.”
“I’ve only said a few words to you, papa.” She enjoyed calling him her father. Back home, she had only her grandmother and siblings. Her parents had already passed. She missed them every day. It was nice to have a father again.
When he didn’t respond, she looked up at him. The look on his face was so kind, she wanted to cry. “It’s more than you’ve said to me for a long time, honey.”
“Why?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
He smiled softly, but the look of confusion on his face was obvious. “That would be something I would have to ask you, dear. Are you done being mad at me?”
“I don’t remember being mad at you, papa,” she replied, honestly.