The Long Way Home Read Online Free Page B

as she returned to the first bedroom on the left, opened the door, and turned on the light switch. She pulled the sheet off the double bed and was happy to see there were pillows with pillowcases already on them.She removed the cases, punched the pillows a few times. A couple of feathers fluttered out, but no discernible dust.
    “Real feather pillows,” she noted.
    She stripped the pale pink fitted sheet from the mattress and rolled it up with the top sheet and the pillowcases. On her way out of the room, she pulled up the shades and leaned on the sill to look out the window.
    At the end of the street, a stone’s throw from the house, was a dune, where tall grasses swayed in the light breeze, and beyond the dune, the Bay rolled onto a narrow stretch of beach in easy waves. Ellie dropped the bedding onto the mattress and forced open a window. When she raised the sash, the scent of the Bay flowed in as gently as the water nudged the shore. It was salt and pine and something she couldn’t put her finger on, but the combination was pleasing and she smiled. Her mother had once mentioned how the Chesapeake smelled, and now here Ellie was, filling her lungs and experiencing the Bay much as Lynley had.
    “You were right, Mom. It’s delicious. At least, tonight it is.” After a few minutes, the room grew cold, and she closed the window and locked it. “Not sure how it smells on a hot muggy day in August, but since I will be long gone by then, it won’t be my problem.”
    She gathered up the bedding, turned off the light, and made her way back downstairs. She dropped her bundle on the floor, then went into the living room.
    “Time for the big reveal,” she announced. “Let’s see what we’ve got hiding under all these covers.”
    She found a vintage dark green mohair sofa underone sheet, three club chairs—one green, two maroon—under others. She ran her hand over the upholstery and traced her fingers over the plush fabric. It was soft and velvety and comforting. She sat for a moment, her head resting back against the cushions, and closed her eyes, feeling strangely at home.
    She got up with a start and turned on the lamps—grateful to find they all still had bulbs—and removed all the protective coverings.
    “Not bad, actually.” She nodded when she was finished. “Not my taste, but I do know that there’s a solid market for 1950s and sixties furnishings, so I should do all right here.”
    The paintings on the wall were an odd mix: a few landscapes and a dark painting of the Bay. The tops of the wooden tables were bare, but the bookshelves that ran along one wall were filled to overflowing. Ellie figured she’d have plenty of time to peruse the family library, since there was no TV. She could watch on her phone, but really, with everything that had to be done in the house, who would have time for television?
    She added the sheets from the living room to the items she’d brought downstairs and carried the whole pile to the basement door. She found it locked; the sliding bolt opened easily. There was a switch at the top of the steps, but when she turned it on, the light-bulb downstairs popped.
    “Crap. No way am I going down there in total darkness.” She closed the door and relocked it. “Uh-uh.”
    She paused to think. It hadn’t occurred to her to bring laundry soap, so she’d have to find a Laundromatanyway. Had she passed one in her travels today? She didn’t recall seeing one.
    Her grumbling stomach reminded her that she had to find dinner as well. She didn’t know the lay of the land well enough to simply charge out the front door, so she consulted her phone. She discovered there was a Laundromat out on the highway and several restaurants and a food market nearby. Perfect. She could coordinate the washing/drying with grabbing some dinner and stocking up on some staples to take back to the house.
    She followed the directions she got from her phone—so grateful for modern technology—and arrived at