Page 26 of Hearts Held

I make a small cup of warm milk and venture to the second story. The guest bedroom is decorated in green and blue hues, hinted with small flower patterns. I turn toward the main suite and let out a small gasp. My bags have been placed upon a gray ottoman bench. A mahogany four-post bed sits on the far side of the room, adjacent to the master washroom. There is a beautiful oak armoire, a leather lounge chair, a side table and an ivory lamp.

Quickly I organize my few belongings around the room and store my clothing.

Then retreat to the washroom to find a deep clawfoot bathtub, lined with luxurious-smelling soaps, lotions and candles. Soft towels are draped over the already heated towel rail.

This is too good.

This is too good to be true.

My mind begins to brace for the impact of my panic, thinking of how easily this could be ripped from my grasp, or if this will be held over my head.

Small breaths.

In.

And out.

I need to calm myself and not let this get the best of me.

After turning the tap on, water flows elegantly into the tub. I feel the flowing water and am surprised to embrace the warm temperature. My old apartment would have never given me the comfort of warm water this quickly!

I strip off my uniform and climb into the tub.

The water climbs across my skin as I pluck one of the fancy maroon glass soap bottles and inhale its calming aroma. The bottle reads “Lavender and Eucalyptus.”

A moan escapes me as I lather my body with its contents.

To my surprise, my moan is accompanied by a lonesome tear escaping my eye.

What is this?I think to myself.

Relief?

Gratefulness?

I give a small chuckle to myself and lie back, immersing my whole body in the heavenly water.

After a glorious wash I slide under the soft, silky sheets, the fabric enveloping me in a comfortable cocoon, kissing my skin. Sending tingles throughout my body.

My body falls like the end of a beautiful crescendo, descending into the most remarkable sleep.

I open my eyes to view the pond from my childhood. The trees rustle as the calm breeze caresses my cheek. I follow the flow of air to find my handsome brother seated by the water. One leg perched by his side as the other is dangled into the small blue abyss.

My breath hitches.

I haven’t had a dream with him in so, so long.

As his name catches in my throat, his eyes turn to me and that playful smile cracks the corner of his mouth in that adorable upturned fashion.

“Hi love.” Then he stands, coming toward the picnic blanket I’ve awoken on within the dream. I peer around to find the surroundings aren’t identical tothose of the childhood pond we once played in. This place has similarities, such as the pond, but surrounding me is a beautiful garden filled with exquisite flowers of all varieties. The path set toward the rickety old house with red shutters doesn’t exist.

Marcus gently sits next to me.

“Why do you look so gloomy, huh? Figured you’d be happy ta see me.”

I can feel the brush of his arm against mine, the sensation so surreal it brings tears to my eyes.

“Gosh, you’re so soft,” he states, as his callused hand slightly, playfully nudges my arm.