Catherine’s room was just like it was back in college. Memory boards filled with pictures on the wall next to some of her early paintings. Up against a wall sat a well loved drawing desk filled with old paints, pencils and brushes, an old portfolio book of her old projects laying on top; remnants from high school and college before her business went digital. Next to the empty dresser on the far wall was a shelf with old nick nacks that were too precious to throw away; childhood awards, a doll or two that had been reclassified as display models, and a dusty high school yearbook.
A single pristinely made bed stuck out from the rightmost wall, and an air mattress lovingly made laid next to it for me. Amazons weren’t the only ones who never fully accepted kids growing up.
My wife threw her suitcase on her bed and started unpacking it. “Sorry about my dad.”
“It’s cool.” I threw my case next to hers and followed suit. “I’m used to it.”