the bedroom

the bedroom

“Thank God for Fabreze!” she mutters while she sprays the bare mattress. The right side slightly sinks in, Jacques' spot during the last three years. Not a problem, she would just have to turn it over and the mattress will go back to its form even though it might take a few weeks. She turns on the electric fan and directed the air towards the mattress. She fetches from the linen closet the new bed pad she has bought and the new sheets that she wants to use. The new blue and white linen sheets that match the new curtains she has installed on the window. Already, she has thought of a name for the bedroom: the blue willow room. It's not her bedroom, it's THE blue willow room.

She lightly pats the top of the mattress with the palm of her hands to make sure it is dry when she hears a knock on the door. She clucks her tongue, annoyed at this intrusion. She walks out of the bedroom, er, the blue willow room, thinking where she would position the three-foot floor vase. She opens the door.

“Hiya!” It is Jacques.

“Oh, it’s you.” Jacques pushes the door and enters.

“Kinda hard to get rid of me when I’m just across the hall from you, n’est-ce pas?” he teases her.

“What do you want now?” she asks, not really hiding her annoyance.

“Have you got milk? I need some for my tea.”