She patted my shoulder. “I know. And Mike would have too.”

I rolled my eyes and reached into the box. I’m so sick of hearing about Mike. I get it. He’s hurt. I suck. Leave it in the past, Emily.

“Hello?” A high voice filled the house as sunlight coloured the white tiles again.

I set the lip of the kettle under the tap and ran the water. “Hi, Vicki. We’re in the kitchen.”

“You must have known we were on our way,” Dad said, nodding at the kettle as he came through the archway.

“Hello, Mr. Thompson.” Emily retied her headscarf and flicked her blonde hair away from her chin as she smiled up at my dad.

“Emily.” He nodded. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Mr. Thompson.”

“You can call me Greg, now, Emily. You’re not one of my students anymore.”

“Old habits die hard.” She shrugged and walked over to me. “I’ll get the coffee, Ara. You go show your parents around.”

“Is that an offer or an order?”

Emily plugged the kettle in near the stove. “The way you make coffee? It’s an order.”

Dad laughed, but Vicki remained distracted in a stare of awe, slowly spinning around to take everything in. “Ara—” She reached out and gave me a one-armed hug. “This house is perfect for you.”

“I know.” I smiled back at Emily. “We were just saying the same thing.”

“So, when does the dining table arrive?” She motioned an open palm to the space across from the galley-style kitchen.

“Three o’clock, and they’re bringing a lounge to go in that sitting room as well.”

“Just a lounge?” she asked; I nodded. “That’s a big room, Ara, dear, you’ll need more than a—”

“I’m planning on that being the music room,” I said quickly, before I could get an hours’ worth of interior design advice. “Once I can afford a piano.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, running her hand across the glossy top of the hip height wall between the dining and sitting room. “What’s with the small wall?”

“They call it a nib—a fashionable method of dividing two rooms, without actually diving them. I’ll just use it as a junk storage area, I think.”

Emily groaned from the kitchen. “Good thing we at least have a dishwasher.”

“Are you saying I’m untidy, Emily Pierce?”

“Would I say that?” she said dismissively as she poured hot water into mugs.

“You just did.”

“Now, now, you two. I’m sure you can work out the chores between you. You’ll just have to draw up a roster,” Dad said.

“Nah, Emily’ll be at college mostly. It’ll just be me.”

Dad nodded. I knew he didn’t approve of my decision not to go to college, but he hadn’t said it...yet.

“So, which room is yours, Emily?” Vicki asked, changing the subject, I think.

“Oh, I took the first bedroom down the hall, right next to the bathroom.”

“So you’re in the master bedroom, Ara?” Dad asked.

“Yep. I’ll show you.” I linked arms with Dad and Vicki and led them back the way they came.

“Oh, now that’s exactly where I would’ve put that couch.” Vicki, forced by the pull of my finished lounge room, stopped just before my bedroom door.

“Yeah, I figure a book in hand, coffee on the table and the golden sunlight would make for my kind of afternoon.”

“Gets bright, though,” Dad said, holding his hand as a visor above his eyes. “That lake’s a bit reflective, isn’t it?”

“I know.” I looked out at the grassy picnic spot across the road. “But that view is the reason I chose this place, so I don’t mind a bit of blinding every now and then.”

“It’s lovely.” Vicki nodded, then her eyes widened as she turned around and looked into my bedroom. “Wow, it’s light in here too, and very open.”

“Where will you put your bed?” Dad asked.

“Right where you’re standing.”

He looked down at his feet, drew his hands from his pockets and skipped away from that spot as though he’d been standing on the bed itself.

The room was square, with the bathroom sitting beside the door to the wardrobe and across from the windows. I’d been told that it was bad feng shui to have the foot of your bed facing the door or a window, so that left only two ways my bed could actually go.

“Well, at least you can fit all your clothes in the wardrobe.”

“Yeah. I don’t think I could live without a walk-in now.”

“You did it at your mum’s for seventeen years,” Dad said.

I shrugged. “New habits aren’t worth breaking if you don’t have to.”

“It’s got a spa!” Vicki called from the bathroom.

“Yep,” I beamed.

“Oh, Ara. I’m jealous.” Vicki hugged her arms across her waist. “This is my dream home.”

“But smaller, right?”

“Yes, but it has a spa!”

Dad placed his arm around my stepmother and kissed her head. “We’ll get you a spa if you want one, Vicki.”

She smiled softly.

“Okay, well, that’s pretty much all there is to it—aside from the garage, but you’ve seen a garage before and there’s not much backyard to show either.”

“Well, you’ve really done well for yourself, Ara.” Vicki stepped away from Dad and stood by the window, taking in the sunset over the lake across the road.

“Plenty of kids around out there.” Dad leaned forward a little, peering through my blinds. “Good spot to raise a family.”

“Yeah—long way off, Dad.”

“Never know,” he said so absently I wondered if he even knew he said it.

Vicki looked at me apologetically.

I shook my head and wandered out of my room.

“So, uh—” Dad stopped by the front door, looking at Vicki as he shuffled his feet.

“What is it?” I breathed impatiently, placing my hands on my hips. “Just tell me.”

“It’s uh—well there’re a few wedding gifts that didn’t have return addresses on them. We figured now would be a good time to tell you about them.” Dad looked behind him. “I have them in the car.”