For months, my son’s new wife treated every reminder of his late wife like something to erase. I kept the peace – until karma chose her housewarming to break it.
The afternoon of the housewarming, I let myself in through the side door with a tray of my lemon bars and stopped cold in the entryway.
Every color I remembered was gone.
The hallway drawings, the crocheted afghan, the framed photo of Ivy in her sunflower dress. All of it, gone. In its place, white on white on white.
I told myself it was only a house. Chloe, my son’s new wife, could change whatever she wanted.
But there was one part of it I hoped she’d left alone.
Every color I remembered was gone.
Chloe was in the middle of the living room, shoulder wedged against the arm of a long white couch, dragging it inch by inch across the rug toward the bay window.
“Marlene. You’re early.”
“I said I’d help set up.”
She didn’t stop pushing. The couch groaned across the floor and settled with a little thud against the far wall, right under the window.
I set the tray on the counter.
I said I’d help set up.
Then I saw exactly where she’d put the couch. “I wouldn’t put it there.”
Chloe straightened, pushed her hair back with her wrist, and gave me the smile she reserved for people she was about to correct.
“It grounds the room, Marlene. I follow this interior account that explains feng shui, and this wall is the only placement that works.”
“Chloe. Seriously. Anywhere but there.”
She blinked at me. Waited.
“Is there a reason?” she finally asked.
I wouldn’t put it there.
“I just wouldn’t.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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