Page 82 of Brandt's Rule
Tempest stood in the living room of Brandt’s home, one hand gripping the doll Maverik had given her as a child, the other the keys to her bike. There were a couple of boxes with some more things in them; leathers for when she rode her bike long distances, clothes, shoes, toiletries, things of that nature, and Brandt had gone back down to get her sleeping bag, her pillow, and the rest of her things from his truck.
The door opened behind her and Brandt walked in, pausing to place the last of her belongings on the sofa. But she didn’t even hear him. She was lost in trying to imagine her place in his home. She didn’t feel at home enough to just start putting her things away. This was his home. Not hers, and not theirs.
“I put the rest of your things on the sofa,” he said. “Just let me know where you want stuff and I’ll start helping.”
Tempest didn’t answer.
“Pest?” he asked.
Still she didn’t answer.
“Tempest, baby, you alright?” he asked, approaching her and putting his hands on her shoulders.
“Hmm?” she asked, turning to look at him.
“You’re standing there like you’re in a trance or something. What’s wrong?”
She turned her back to him again and looked around the large open room. It had a kitchen on one end with a row of windows that went down the entire exterior wall. The dining room was just to the right of the kitchen, and the living room was large, filling out the rest of the space. There was a fireplace on the opposite side of the living room, and hallway leading from between the kitchen/dining room space and the living room that led to a guest bath, then three bedrooms and another bath attached to the master bedroom. Everything was done in honey colored hardwood. It was beautiful. A standard cabin, though a little larger because of the extra bedrooms and the spacious living and kitchen areas. Lots of windows in every space, and bedroom. The furniture was masculine — a rough weave that resembled flannel fabric. Heavy dark wooden furniture. There weren’t even any curtains, or blinds over the windows. The house was beautiful, just made for a man, decorated by a man, or not decorated. But at any rate, it wasn’t hers and didn’t feel like it was. “I feel like this is your home, and I’m imposing.”
“Why would you think that?” he asked, careful to keep his voice gentle.
“Because it’s obviously your home. Everything about it screams you. This is your home, and you’ve got it exactly the way you like it. I feel like I have no right to change things.”
“You weren’t uncomfortable last night, or early this morning.”
“I wasn’t exactly thinking last night. I was exhausted. This morning… instinct took over, I guess. And I know I said I want to be here, I do, I just feel like I’m moving in with someone who has no choice but to have me.”
“Instinct that told you you belong here.”
“Maybe we should just…”
“Maybe you should just stop thinking and go on instinct again,” he said, covering her eyes with his hands. “Now, couple things you need to know,” he said, standing there blocking her eyes as he spoke to her, “I have not done anything at all other than accepting some furniture that was handed down from my family. Haven’t decorated, don’t plan to. That’s all you. I don’t care what you do, what you change, what you leave. All I care about is that you’re here.”
“But it’s yours, and you like it this way,” she said, feeling like a huge imposition despite his words.
“You realize we’ve just about swapped places. First I was in denial and refusing to consider us, and now it’s you that’s backing off.”
“Just don’t want you to have to,” she said, taking a deep breath to give him all the reasons why they should wait.
“Tempest?” he said, interrupting the rant she was planning to launch into.
“Yes?”
“Baby, this is a three bedroom, two bath home. What about that screams bachelor? I knew one day I’d find someone, and if I was lucky, she’d be my mate. I planned for you. I want you to look around, imagine this house is a model home and we’re just touring it. You know how you walk into a place and go, ‘Oh, I like this, but I think I’d add this over here, or I’d change that’?”
“No.”
“Well, when people tour model homes to pick out what floor plan they want to build, it happens. So, when I uncover your eyes, you look around and everywhere you look, picture in your mind what your subconscious tells you it should look like and how you’d change it. Then change it.”
“What if I want lace curtains?”
“Then put up lace curtains.”
“What if I want book shelves on either side of the fireplace?”
“Then put bookshelves on either side of the fireplace, and if you’re going to display things that are important to you on them, like that doll you’re holding, make some of them with glass fronts so you can keep dust and heat away from whatever it is you’re displaying.”
“But if you’d wanted it like that, you’d have already done it.”