Norma stood on the mat. In her white parka and gloves she looked like something carved out of a snowbank. Her cheeks were scarlet from the cold. When she pushed back her hood I saw that her reddish gold hair was cut short and sprayed out from her face without bands or clips. For one paralyzing moment I thought she had come for a tryst with Robin. But no: she was smiling freely and hugging me as if meeting me for the first time after some kind of close call.

I shouted for Robin. I watched carefully as they greeted one another with workmanlike smiles, and then I led the way through the hall so they couldn’t see my face.

Behind me, Norma whispered: “Has she seen it?”

I stopped. “Seen what?”

“I was waiting for you,” said Robin. He went over and pulled the trapdoor down by its strap. He unfolded the hinged steps and secured their rubber feet on the floor.

“You’ve finished the attic?” There was a time when I’d loved surprises.

His face held little expression. “You go first.”

At the top, the step now fitted onto a landing from which the whole room was visible. Mutely I stood and waited for Robin and Norma to join me.

Deep reds and purples, spiced yellows, burnt-orange-colored rugs and hangings glowed like hearths against the white walls. Long low sofas. In-built bookshelves. Floor cushions at a low table. Dark floorboards with the eddying sheen of stone. Fallingwater was built on rock over a stream. This room was built from wood up in the trees. No concrete encased it. No waterfall roared underneath. Yet the same kind of horizontal grace had been achieved, the same rich colors, the same invitation to curl up and take cover in a place that was everywhere exposed to the outside world. Light came in from all angles, seemingly not from windows at all, though there were windows in every direction, a long slot of them along the eaves, slanted ones in the roof space, and an arched window at the end that I had last seen propped against the wall, wrapped in plastic. Snowy branches filled it now.

Why didn’t Robin say something, even if I couldn’t? We had not discussed the details. I’d had no idea it would turn out like this. Because the new room had not been finished in time for Maddy, I had taken little interest in it once she got sick, and none after she died.

“We tried to get the spirit of it.” Robin’s voice was subdued, wary.

“We?”

“I made all the cushions and things,” said Norma shyly. I had almost forgotten about her. “I found the rugs and hangings. I’m ashamed to say I’d never been to Fallingwater before. Living so near!”

“You helped Robin finish the room?”