Page 92 of The Reluctant Roommate

“You love me?” Morgan stared as the jumbled thoughts in her mind scattered to the four corners of the earth, leaving her with only one: Heidi loved her.

“Well, yes. Fi told me I did, so it must be true. And you’re on the list. It’s not a list in order, by the way. So, if I numbered it, you might come in above Minty and premium margaritas. If that’s okay with you.”

“It’s okay with me. It’s more than okay. I’m just surprised. We’ve gone from awkward housemates to love.”

“I guess four-or-so months is fast for some people. But in that time, we’ve also pulled off a virtual bank heist and probably saved a life. You’ve secured a dream job in a dream company, and I’ve taken the first baby step toward a proper grown-up job. We’ve also cleaned snow off miles of sidewalk, drank more wine than we should, had some amazing sex, and fought over the best way to load the dishwasher. Honestly, I think we’ve accomplished most relationship milestones, except this last one. So, here’s the last one again for you: I love you, Morgan.”

She blinked. Blinked some more. She had to have something in her eye, something scratchy that was making it water.

Heidi reached across and wiped a finger gently under Morgan’s eye. “It’s okay to show emotion. It’s okay to cry—although I hope they’re happy tears.”

Morgan blinked some more, then gave up and let the tears fall. “I am happy. And when you put our relationship in that way, it’s obvious what love is. And it’s obvious I love you.”

Heidi leaned in again, and Morgan unsnapped her own seatbelt to meet her halfway. Their kiss started off soft, grew like a sunrise over the mountains that she loved. And like those mountains, the kiss made her breathless, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen. Her heart raced, and its beat seemed to echo Heidi’s name.

A tapping on the window made them draw apart. Morgan refocused. Her mom’s face loomed through the glass. Morgan opened the door slowly, allowing her mom to step back.

“Morgan, you’ve been sitting out here for too long. Your butt will be frozen to the seat. Come inside, both of you.” Her mom turned away, up the path, without waiting for a response.

Morgan sat for a few seconds. Was this how it would be? Her parents would ignore Heidi, her mom would pretend she hadn’t seen them kissing in the car. Indeed, she’d probably been watching through the window since they’d driven up.

“Sorry,” Morgan said. “We’d better go in.”

They took their bags and walked up the path to the front door. Morgan pushed it open and continued on down the hallway to the living area at the rear.

Her dad rose to his feet and held out his arms. “Welcome home, Morgan.” He enveloped her in a hug. He smelled as he always did, of wood shavings and breath mints.

Morgan stepped back. “Dad, this is my girlfriend, Heidi Lincoln. Heidi, my dad, Walter.”

Her dad held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Heidi. Welcome.”

Her mom bustled over from the kitchen, and Morgan introduced her and Heidi.

“It’s good to meet you both, Walter and Jinny,” Heidi said. “Morgan’s told me so much about you.”

“Are we sleeping in my old room?” Morgan asked.

“Yes. Although I don’t know if Heidi will be comfortable there.” Her mom swept back to the kitchen and resumed kneading a pillowy pile of dough.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Heidi said.

“Let’s take our things upstairs.” Morgan picked up her bag and led the way to her room. “Oh!”

The small double bed that she’d always had was gone, and a twin bed was in its place. The other side of the room was taken up with a long table. Two sewing machines were pushed to the back, and patchwork squares were stacked neatly in color-coordinated piles. A half-finished quilt hung over the opened closet door.

Morgan turned to Heidi. “We’re going to be squished.”

Heidi lifted up the valence on the bed. “There’s a pullout bed underneath. We’ll be fine.”

Morgan swallowed the unsettled feeling. Her room had always been her room. Her last trip home—more than six months ago, she remembered with a guilty pang—her room had been how she’d left it: the small double bed, her old clothes in the closet, her posters on the wall. She pulled open the closet door. The clothes rods were gone. Instead, a rack of open containers held reels of thread and a variety of fabrics and swatches of different types and colors.

“We should have told you.” Her mom’s voice came from the doorway. “But you come home so infrequently, I didn’t think you’d mind. All your stuff from the closet is bagged up in the garage, waiting for you to decide what to do with it.”

She took a moment to compose herself. When she was sure she could smile and look like she meant it, she turned to face her mom. “That’s fine, Mom. It’s silly keeping my room as it was, when you could use it.”

“This is lovely, Jinny.” Heidi touched the edge of the half-finished quilt. “I love the colors and the pattern you’ve put together. It reminds me of the sea.”

The worry eased on Jinny’s face. “That’s exactly what it’s supposed to do.” She came into the room and took Heidi’s arm, drawing her closer to the quilt. “See here, I have dolphins and starfish.”