Everything would be just perfect, she told herself. Everything would be just the way, Lara had left it. They would be coming on a visit from time to time, wouldn’t they. She tapped the tiny pillow. Poof, poof, poof, until it sprung up and sat upright and waited for the next one to sit down next to it, take it in their hands and squeeze it. She liked those little decorations. Pillows, blankets, doilies, all the things that made a home a home. The big clock high up on the wall counted down the hours.
Springtime was near and while the sky turned blue outside, the birds came back and tweeted their songs. Sometimes they even composed whole songs and varieties to melodies. She didn’t know the names of those birds, she had little interest in animals. Lara did, she used to have a few pets when she was younger. Would they get a dog or a child? You can’t have both, of that she was sure. She wasn’t sure, they were ready for a child. “Maybe start with a cat?” she had told her once and only received a harsh stare in return.
She would hang up a picture of the two of them. As she grew older she finally understood why people would like to have an assortment of photos of their family members in the hallway or near the telephone. But then who still owns a telephone these days. Her picture corner is set up on the counter in the dinner area of the living room. She would add that picture soon, maybe the wedding photo if they sent one. She stroked the flowery couch throw as if it was her hair at bedtime in the old days. But there would be things to look ahead to in the days to come. The roses needed cutting to bloom again.