The Inside Diaries

Deuxième Étage

Swim left. Right. Right. Return. Repeat.

Paddle. Left. Right—

Repeat—

Head rising above the surface once more, Melanija shook her sodden hair, surveying her surroundings. A damask sunrise, just beyond the horizon—she blinked once, then twice more. The reflective pool shone an apricot haze of the sky above seconds later, as she gazed up to admire the horizon, a palm tree overhead creating the quintessential tropical silhouette.

Days had passed since her outing with Fernando (and company); Catticus was still sleeping back at the Air B&B, purring contentedly all the while, no doubt. And she—

She?

She was doing her morning exercises at the resort, thanks to Hesper, who gave her free range of the place as it was a couple of months pre-season. Noticing the sun having risen higher, she stepped out, grabbed a towel, and made to head back in time for breakfast with Matias.

A couple of hours later, the pair found themselves back at Epicenter Pico No. 23. Being the writer and thus having a master key, Melanija knew she could come and go as she pleased, but had a certain degree of hesitation, wanting to respect others' privacy.

"They're back at the family manor in the States," Matias offered, noticing her hesitation. "They won't be back for another couple of weeks."

"Uh...ok then. Shouldn't take too long—" as she drew the brass key, twisting the doorknob in the next motion. Entering the place she had visited awhile ago should have made her feel more at ease, but now that a couple were residing here, things seemed different somehow. She reminded herself this was more a maintenance house call dealing with the condo's structural integrity.

At least that's what she tried to tell herself.

"You mentioned something about a second floor?" Matias' voice echoed in the chamber as she turned to face him.

"Yeah. If I can visualize—and find—it—" her hands touched the plain walls of the living room, patio window to kitchen, hoping for anything. A clue, perhaps?

Where was the place she'd written in?

Fifteen minutes later, she grumbled under her breath, having attempted to find the area in the leftmost hallway. Nothing. Nada. It wasn't supposed to be there, anyways...

"What about here?" her hands parted from the cool shadows of the walls, instead following Matias' voice to the master bedroom's threshold.

"Where?" she asked, incredulous. "The window's right there—she pointed inches away from its left—

"Here, then?" he asked, ever mild-mannered, pointing to its right. A piece of blank wall, polished, innocuous. An empty slate?

Placing both hands atop the surface, she closed her eyes, visualizing—

A wrought-iron spiral staircase, leading to smooth, polished eco-friendly bamboo flooring. Skylights, for the sun to set its rays. House plants. A multipurpose space for movie nights, skits, and anything the imagination allowed. And immediately ahead, three separate bedrooms.

"Oh my..." Hearing Matias' awe, she opened her eyes to find a door swung open on said wall, revealing the exact spiral staircase she had just pictured in her mind's eye.

"Shall we?" she asked as he bowed slightly.

"After you—" he beckoned as she passed the threshold and began ascending the stairs. Once her feet hit the bamboo flooring, she glanced around—it was exactly as she imagined it—

"Lovely area," Matias remarked behind her.

"There's more," she spoke, indicating three closed doors.

"Are those...bedrooms?" For whom? "Seems like an awful lot of rooms—"

"For the kids."

"Whose?" He scratched his head, puzzled. He hadn't recalled any kid as of late in Marcella's life. The only one he was familiar with was Tory, who had been spending an increased amount of time staying with Morgana, now that her triplet cousins had been born.

"Who do you think?" Melanija raised a brow, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Marcella...and Henry?" She nodded, biting her lip as he continued to look confused. "But they don't have kids—"

"Yet."

He blinked rapidly, a tear escaping onto his cheek. "Oh."

"I-I'm sorry, Matias, did I say something wrong?" Melanija's face was full of concern at his reaction, hoping she hadn't inadvertently performed a faux pas.

"No, my child," he murmured. "I've—well—the thought of children—grandchildren—reading books to them—teaching them gardening—my heart's simply overcome." With joy. "I never had such a hope. Until now. Thanks to you—"

"Well, Matias, this is assuming everything goes according to plan. Marcella and Henry seem to enjoy each other's company very much here from what you've been telling me. Here's to hoping they find a home on the island—"

"Here, at Epicenter Pico."

"Exactly."

She imagined that Marcella's science career could be exhausting at times—Henry's teaching position too—and given their technological acumen (not to mention excellent internet access on the isles), both roles could easily be done remotely, alleviating a considerable amount of work-life imbalance.

If they so chose, of course.

Another hour later, she bade farewell to Matias and set upon her own journey to a glimmering gated grove of cacti and bushels of...she stared, passing through the slender iron gate. What were those, anyhow—before hearing a familiar voice to her side.

"Glad you could make it!"

She grinned, feeling her cheeks blush ever-so-slightly. "Fancy meeting you here, Fernando—"