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12/5/16
THE LIGHT ON my phone once again fills the dark room with a white brightness. My phone shows that it's just after two in the morning and instead of feeling tired a burst of energy fills my bones instead as a smile pulls at my chapped lips.
The last couple nights I have explored this house top to bottom. Finding breathtaking artwork, old expensive ball gowns stuffed into closets, and beautiful antiques that line every inch of this house. It's stunningly decorated, but not over the top like most people would with this kind of money.
I stuff my feet into my fuzzy slippers and quietly head out the door with a quick look at Chase to make sure I didn't wake him up. His long lashes rest on his cheeks, and he looks calm with his hands tucked under his face. Stealthily I close the door behind myself and let the anxious excitement run through me making my pulse race as my eyes take in the dark and empty hallway.
There's only one section of the house I still haven't made my way through so I head that way as soundlessly as possible.
Downstairs past a large office and a half bath I come to a door I have yet to open. I slowly twist the doorknob always a slight bolt of fear running through my veins. I've worked out mostly where everyone sleeps at this point, but I never know what will lie behind each door and that scares and electrifies me at the same time.
The door opens slowly and I can't really tell what's in the dark room so I slide my hand against the smooth cold wall and flick the light switch. The room floods with light and my heart stops.
Before my eyes is a large room filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves completely stocked with books. My mouth gapes open in shock as my heart beats a little faster. There has to be over a thousand books in this room and a smile takes form on my lips.
I use to ask my father what heaven would be like and this is almost exactly what he would describe. A room filled with so many books that it would take the rest of my existence to read and learn and enjoy.
The cherry oak wood is so different from all the light airy colors that fill the rest of the house. It's as if this room stands alone and stands against time from not only the rest of the house but the world also. A couch and a few large leather chairs sit in the middle with a square table. The room is simple, and the focus is the books. Oh, wow, the books.
I run my hands over the spines of each work that coats the walls. Some are newer then others as my fingers take in rough and flaked spines, and some smooth and barely cracked open. I pause for a moment as my eyes flutter shut and let the smell of the pages fill my senses. I can't help the tears that well up in my eyes as images of my father fill my head.
I push the tears away and open my eyes and decide in this moment that the rest of my winter break nights will be spent in this very room. I wander around the room and take in the set of spectacular encyclopedias, and early editions of books written by gods such as Hemingway and Austin.
