Page 100 of Just for a Taste

Opaline couldn’t argue with her sister if she wanted to. Cora led the pair into a smaller, plainer hallway that was more functional than decorative.

“I’ve always preferred this portion, though. It feels more like home.”

“What are we doing here, Birdie?” Opaline finally mustered the nerve to ask, following her sister into what seemed like the umpteenth corridor.

Finally, with a small, strange smile gracing her lips, Cora turned to face her sister. “I’d like to show you around my home.”

That didn’t answer Opaline’s question fully; instead, it raised even more. How long had her sister lived here, and under what circumstances? If Cora had inherited such riches, why did she insist on hopping from apartment to apartment in London and Partanna, even crashing with her for weeks at a time at their childhood home in Red Creek? And why hadn’t she been told anything of its former owner?

Yet the housewife didn’t have it in her to press any further. She simply followed her sister and wondered at Cora’s beaming face.

After setting down the box on a side table, Cora turned into a small room, one that was plain compared to every other place they had traveled. There were no true decorations, just barren stone walls and floors and ceilings, all lit by a window so small, it looked like a porthole. Undecorated shelves were crammed across every wall, stuffed to the brim with old books and files, and a plain wooden desk and chair. Covering it all was a thick layer of dust, much of which stirred at their entrance.

The sisters sneezed in rapid succession, and Cora burst into laughter. “I didn’t think this place could get any dustier! I should have brought a shovel!”

Opaline pulled her cardigan over her mouth and nose as her sister ventured in further.

“This is the little library. We won’t stay here long. After all, I’ve studied every document in here back and forth! Most of my ideas for my thesis came from this room.” Suddenly, Cora grabbed Opaline’s hand and grinned broadly. “Are you ready, Peachy?”

“I—” Before Opaline could respond, her sister broke into a run, dragging her along effortlessly, although Opaline towered over Cora. “Hold on!” Opaline giggled, barely able to move her legs fast enough.

Cora stopped in front of two large doors, and Opaline nearly crashed into her. They were visibly heavy, and Cora had to lean into them to make them budge. Finally, just as Opaline had decided to help Cora, they gave.

Opaline was already a little out of breath, but what little breath remained was stolen from her in an instant. Realizing her sister was too stunned to walk, Cora dragged her in behind her.

Though not much of a reader herself, Opaline could still certainly empathize with the utter rapture possessing her sister. The library itself was two stories tall, the room larger than the largest church Opaline had ever been in. Shelves upon shelves of gorgeous leather-bound books, perfectly organized, were illuminated by the largest chandelier she had ever seen. Vases and bronze busts had been placed in every corner in such a manner that they were still easy to navigate around, forming a clear path that reminded her of the museum she had seen on a field trip. Even the floor beneath her feet, every stone carefully carved with patterns so delicate she was horrified at stepping onto them, was its own work of art.

Cora picked up a jog once more, and instead of one of the hundreds of gold-leaf books, she sought something entirely different: a spiral-bound binder, utterly innocuous other than how tightly it was stuffed.

“My reading list, past and future,” Cora said to her sister with a smile, flipping through both the front and back of it. Then, mostly to herself: “I wonder if I’ll feel differently aboutIl Canzoniereafter so long.” Despite its size, Cora managed to put the binder down gingerly. “All right,” she said. “I guess it’s time.”

The room between the little library and the main library was a bedroom that balanced utility and beauty to be luxurious, but the two only lingered for a minute. Compared to the jovial air the dusty room had conjured between them, and the elated tone of the main library, a somber miasma permeated within this room. Though it was stately, what with its velveteen, king-sized bed, mahogany furniture, and Tiffany glass lamps, something about this room was clearly lived in.

Cora trembled as she neared the bed, her hand visibly wavering on its path to the mattress. Her fingers barely touched a faint outline.

“I wonder if this was the room they found his body in,” Cora whispered shakily. “I never asked Doctor Ntumba. I never went to the trial.”

Another name Opaline had heard occasionally but seen on a few letters addressed to her sister. As far as she knew, Cora had only written back to the penitentiary once.

Cora spoke, hands still caressing the indent, back turned to Opaline.

“It’s been fifteen years since I’ve been here, Peachy. In those fifteen years, I’ve done everything I’ve ever dreamed of and become the person I’ve always wanted to be. And yet through it all, I’ve felt . . . nothing.”

For a long time, Cora’s eyes lingered on the floor. When she finally met Opaline’s again, they were brimming with tears. “When I inherited this place, I told myself that if my feelings had changed, I’d donate it to some historical society in a heartbeat. But if my soul still felt as empty as the day I closed that door, I’d return and care for it for the rest of my life. Here we are.”

“Oh, Birdie.” For the first time since they had reunited, Opaline embraced her sister just like she did when they were children. And Cora sobbed just as she did as a child, and Opaline rubbed her arm.

“I’m sorry,” Cora said, half laughing and half crying after a few minutes. “I didn’t mean to make this awkward.”

Opaline gave her a squeeze and stepped back. “It’s like I used to tell you. Having feelings isn’t something to apologize for.”

Once more, Cora let out her half laugh and wiped away a tear. “You’re right. That’s all I have left, isn’t it?” Then, resuming that serious tone, she placed a hand on Opaline’s shoulder and said, “Sorry, but I have to visit this last room alone.”

“I understand,” Opaline replied. “Do you want me to wait for you?”

Cora shook her head. “You don’t have to wait for me. Do you remember the way back?”

“To the car, you mean?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “In Poggioreale?”

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