Page 22 of Undeniably Perfect

She starts walking, and I open the side door, letting us into my mudroom.

“The guest apartment is above the garage,” I say to her. She follows me up a back staircase above the garage, and I open the door to a living area with a micro-kitchen. It’s open and airy with vaulted ceilings and giant windows overlooking my backyard. There’s a bedroom off to the left and a giant bathroom. I wasn’t keen on the idea of a guest apartment, but I figured it would be best if any of my siblings ever needed a place for a while. That way they wouldn’t be in my way and I wouldn’t be in their way.

“Wow,” is all that she says as she looks around.

“You can stay here as long as you like. I have a spare car in the garage that doesn’t get much use,” I offer to her.

She turns to me with her mouth agape. “You’re offering me an apartment and a car?”

I nod. “Tabby cat, you are good peeps. I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but I can see it already. So, mi casa es su casa.”

She giggles. “Gracias.”

“De nada.

“Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”

I walk her around my home. The main level has a large master suite and another guest room with a bathroom attached. There’s a giant two-story main living area with a dining room and kitchen. My office is near the front door. Upstairs, there are three more bedrooms all with en suites and a cozy library area. But the fun stuff including my movie room is downstairs in my walk-out basement.

Tabitha

“Do you want to see my playroom?” he asks as he stands in front of a closed door.

My eyebrows shoot up. Did I hear him correctly? Dear god, have I misjudged him?

“Your playroom?” I repeat, hoping I have this very wrong.

“Yeah, my playroom.” He says this like it’s a normal thing like he wants me to see his remodeled kitchen or his library or his back patio.

“I…” I trail off, at a complete loss for words. My mouth hangs open as I scramble to answer him, but my mind won’t let me. I know enough pop culture to know that playrooms are for kinky sex stuff, and Kent did not strike me as the type, so I’m super shocked.

All of a sudden, Kent’s face splits into a grin and he begins laughing. “Oh, shit. You should see your face. I’m sorry. I had to do it.”

It takes me a minute to process this. “Are you kidding?”

He wipes a tear from his eye. “No, but it’s not that type of playroom. I promise. I like to get a little freaky in bed sometimes but I’m no Christian Grey.” He opens the door, and I gasp in surprise.

It’s a playroom like a legit playroom. There’s a pool table, foosball, air hockey, ski ball, basketball, pinball, a Pacman arcade game, and two walls of shelves filled with board games and bins labeled with names. I walk over to the walls, my curiosity piqued.

I run my fingers over a bin labeled with Kent’s name. The bins are clear, and I can see transformers inside it. Another bin marked Di has barbies and so does Lanie’s bin, except hers have no heads. I turn and give Kent a raised eyebrow.

He leans against the shelf. “My parents cleaned out their basement a few years ago to convert our old playroom into a movie room. They wanted to donate all our toys, but when we all spent the day cleaning them out, there were so many we just couldn’t part with. I’m the only one with a house that had any extra space, so I volunteered to ‘store’ them until everyone had space for their stuff.” He looks around the room.

“And I may have added a few things to the room…grown-up toys.” He gazes at the arcade games.

“Lanie couldn’t part with headless barbies?” I ask as I more closely examine the plastic bins.

He laughs. “It’s a long story.”

I look up at him. “I like long stories.”

He studies my face for a long moment before he speaks, the corners of his mouth turning up as he begins the tale. “Well...when Lanie was...gosh, let me think. I was a baby, so Di and Lanie would have been about four. Anyhow, Di loved playing with Barbies, all dolls really. She liked doing their hair. So, one day Di and Lanie got in a fight and Lanie ended it with saying, ‘Fine, I’ll just take off all their heads.’ And she pulled off all their heads. Di, of course, totally freaked out. Mom came running and Lanie got a time-out. However, from there out, Lanie insisted all her dolls not have heads so that Di wouldn’t take what was hers. My parents thought if they did this a few times, then Lanie would get over it, but Lanie is really stubborn. When we cleaned out the playroom, well, Lanie and Di couldn’t stop laughing over them. Lanie was going to chuck them all, but Di insisted we keep them as a symbol of family lore.”

“I bet it was fun growing up with so many siblings,” I say with a laugh imagining a little girl ripping off all her dolls’ heads.

Kent shrugs as he walks over to the ski ball. Picking up a ball and tossing it in the air, he catches it and holds it up to me. “Fancy a game?”

I giggle. “Sure.”

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