Page 175 of The Seven Rings
“No, I haven’t. But I will. And in the meantime, I’ve got a vision for this room now. The tables, the chairs—some still in the attic, some already in here. Those two benches that look like old church pews flanking the terrace doors. Love seat over there, and another over there.”
She wandered now as she drew it up in her head.
“Still have to decide on art, but there’s plenty to choose from. And that room over there? We’ll make it cozy.”
Pulling out her phone, she checked the time and saw she’d finished earlier than she’d planned.
With Yoda, she walked out to take a closer look at the servants’ quarters on that level. And came first to Molly’s.
She tried not to dwell on the young Irish girl she’d come to know writhing in pain on the narrow bed.
“Will that stop?” she murmured. “Will that finally stop for you when I break the curse? I hope so. Maybe you’ll go, go to whatever’s next. And oh boy, we’ll miss you if you do. But either way, I want that to stop.”
Clover tried Shinedown and “Dead Don’t Die.”
“Well, at least not here, or some other places. And not the way I always thought.”
She walked to the dresser, opened the top drawer. Inside, she found the butterfly bottle, the hair combs. Even as her heart warmed, her eyes stung.
“All right, Molly, this is your place for as long as you want it. I’d like to make it a little better for you. Add a couple of pretty lamps, a mirror, a nice rug. Table and chair there—scaled for the room. A couple of Cleo’s garden paintings. She won’t want me to buy them, but I’m going to.
“Yeah, we can make this better for you. Make it reflect who you are.”
As that vision evolved, she went to the attic, went on a hunt. Delighted, she lifted a chair with an oval back framed in wood. The fabric on the back and the seat’s garden pattern struck her as dreamy. She didn’t want bold and striking for Molly, but soft and warm.
She placed it, then went back to hunt and found a small round table, a pretty globe lamp. She found a mirror that had the same shape as the back of the chair. Small, in a simple wood frame.
She went down for tools to hang it, let Yoda and Pye out, then stopped by Cleo’s studio on the way up.
“I know you’re working, sorry.”
“Almost wrapped for the day. Did something happen?”
“No, all quiet. Do you need the watercolors you’ve done of the wisteria, the pink roses?”
“Not necessarily, why?”
“How would you price them if you did want to put them in the show?”
Cleo puffed out a breath, shrugged, pushed at her hair. “I don’t know. Considering the size, the medium, I’d say a couple hundred. Maybe two-fifty depending on how I frame them. Again why?”
“I’m buying them. Two hundred each, because unframed works even better.”
“If you want them, take them. You’re not buying them.”
“I am buying them. They’re for Molly’s room.”
Setting aside her work, Cleo sat back. “Molly’s room.”
“I’m fixing it up a little, and those two small, dreamy flowers are perfect for what I’ve got going in there. So I’m buying them.”
“Not for sale.” Cleo crossed her arms. “For giving.”
Because she’d already worked this conversation out in the head, Sonya had the solution ready. “You give Molly one. I buy one to give to Molly.”
Cleo frowned, started to speak, frowned again. “Okay, that’s silly but fair.”
“Great. I’m taking them now. I have to hang the mirror I found, so I’ll hang the paintings. You should come take a look when you’re finished.”
