She couldn’t help herself from wandering over and peering into the formal living room now deserved of its name. Again, walls and moldings had been restored, and slate had been replaced with marble, but clueless as to what the west wing had contained, Addison had no idea that most of the furniture she could see had been in the house for decades. Hauled out by the truckload, it all had been taken to artisans across the county who had worked on restoring the antiques to their glory, and they were glorious now. Grains rich with history and elegance announced themselves through coats of modern finish, and the settees in front of two of the windows, once covered with thick brocade had been reupholstered with fabrics, light, velvety, and feminine.

The overstuffed sofas and chairs had been purchased new, as had the area rugs, but unbeknownst to Addison, Joanna had kept a child’s comfort in mind when choosing both. The deep sofas complete with a dozen throw pillows would give a toddler a place to snuggle and play, and while the carpeting was indeed stylish, the thickness and padding sewn beneath the surface would protect a youngster from a fall onto a floor of metamorphic rock.

Hearing a noise, Addison looked toward the kitchen and saw Fiona staring back at her. Addison nodded, and Fiona disappeared, and taking a deep breath, Addison headed to the dining room. She wasn’t hungry, but then again...she never was anymore.

***

An hour later, Addison walked toward the library with wine bottle in hand. Like her father, the space had become her bedroom of sorts. The sofa was small, but with the help of alcohol, Addison’s discomfort was minimal. Finding it impossible to sleep in the room where she and Joanna once shared a bed, other than showers and visits to the wardrobe, Addison avoided the master suite like the plague.

Her legs were heavy as she aimlessly walked through the study. Her thoughts spun like a tornado through her mind, berating her with regrets, chastising her for her stupidity, and cackling at her for the overwhelming grief she had brought on herself. So, by the time she reached the leather sofa, she no longer was interested in the wine. Stretching across its cushions, she hoped sleep would find her; a deep slumber that would encase her mind in a thick, inky blackness, smothering her anguish and easing her pain, if only for a few hours. It had yet to come in oh so many days, but perhaps tonight Joanna wouldn’t visit Addison in her dreams. Perhaps tonight, Addison wouldn’t be reminded of Joanna’s smile or her laughter or her beauty...or her love.

***