The Meanings of Lost

Chapter 25

Diana:

The house is small but quaint. It's farther out from London than I had expected, slightly spacious to European standards. On the interior, it's easy to make to old wooden bones from the newer walls that were painted a nice shade of yellow. They had old metal furniture and decor that swirled like vines that held various plant life and corduroy couches in floral patterns with crochet blankets on the back. It was opened concept, the entertaining areas seemed to be focused on a large black piano with an open lid and a fireplace. It had this small cozy feeling Ambrosine always claimed my house missed, and I noticed it the moment we were greeted by the natural smelling air and heat from a coal bed.

Ambrosine beat her father by helping us remove our coats and hanging them up on wooden pikes in an odd corner that was out of the way. We were lead into the living room and seated on the couches which threatened to eat us and then questioned on what type of food we'd fancy of supper. Ivan tells Ambrosine to see what they have, in hopes that options will help us decide. She returns, bearing news that there is chicken, leftover ham, and pizza. Also, more than enough odds and ends to make a stir-fry or salad.

With the options laid before us and a slight bit of deliberation, we announce that we'd be interested in pizza and salad, since it's quick and simple, though we leave out the latter. If I'm remembering right, Ambrosine does not believe her father to be the best of a cook, as it was a task her mother enjoyed and was protective over, so it might taste the best out of all the options.

Ivan smiles at us and walks over to the kitchen. He isn't isolated from us because there is a large rectangular hole in the wall with floral stain glass windows on the lower length allowing him to still be in the same room as us. The three of us share small talk and Ambrosine wanders off only to reappear later with what has to be one of the largest books in history.

"It's elven-hundred and twenty pages." She says. "It's the last book in the Obernewtyn Chronicles." I nod, dazed. "You know the biggest book I've ever seen is about two feet thick. It's in the Tower of London. It's some war manual or something like that." She sits for a while before wandering off again, this time to relieve her father of kitchen duties. 

About a half-hour later, we're sitting comfortably around their table, with an all-dressed pizza and a Greek salad. Ambrosine smirks at me when her eyes meet mine after she'd placed it on the table. Ivan asks us if we're comfortable saying grace and Steve and I reply that we are. We hold hand and -

The doorbell rings. 

"I'll get it!" Ambrosine says in a singsong.  She flys up and skips to the door.

"Dad?" She calls. "Did you hire new people for a play?"

"No sweetie, why?"

"Well, I don't know how to tell you that there's a bunch of women dressed like fantasy warlords or some such thing at the door." Ivan gets up and walks over to the door. Steve and I exchange glances then follow him. Ambrosine walks away as soon as her father gets there.

"Um, hello?" He says. We turn the corner.

Mother!

"Diana." She says firmly. Everyone turns, their eyes burning my flesh. I fight the urge to stare at my feet and I meet my mother's iron gaze. What is she doing here?

Everyone shifts. The Amazons come inside out of the cold and Ivan puts himself in the way of them and his daughter. Steve and I stand side by side, our hands slowly intertwining for support.