[22: Bridges]

Cherrie kept alternately interrogating each of them, then before they could answer, filling in all the possible answers herself until each only had a “Yes” or “No” in reply. 

“So Sama, let me show you to your room. I think you’re really going to like it. Don’t touch anything, the paint is still wet!” 

She opened the door to the room, and Sama’s jaw dropped. The room was packedwith every object that had anything to do with princesses that one could imagine. A four poster bed with a pink lace canopy, and gauzy white curtains. The room was painted pink, too, with a white ceiling, and though carefully pulled away from the walls, the bureaus were covered in figurines of princesses with tall pink caps and gowns of every sort. 

Sama couldn’t manage to say anything but “Wow.”

“I knew you’d like it! You can be your very own princess here! And now let me show you where you can sleep until the paint dries.”

She briskly opened the door to another room, and the smell of leather and air freshener wafted out. Shelves around the top of the room held miniatures of horses, all laid out neatly, and there was a saddle sitting on a footstool in the corner, and even a couple hobby horses propped up in the corners. Pillows with pictures of horses covered a day bed in the corner, and a bedspread made to look like a saddle blanket covered another four-post bed. 

“This is Rudi’s room. She’ll be home from riding lessons in an hour and ten, so you can meet her then. You can sleep on the day bed for a couple days until the paint fumes are gone. They’re terrible for you, I know, but I just had to repaint. It was the most ghastly shade of dusty rose in there, and it simply wouldn’t do. Alright, you two. I suppose I should let you get on your way. I do hope you like it here, Sama, even though it’s not permanent.”

She nodded slowly, eyes still big. “Thank you. I hope so too, Cherrie.” She tried to make sure she used her name instead of “Ma’am”.

Dick retied his boots at the door, hunched over on the stoop outside rather than trying to sit down in the delicate and pillow-laden chair by the door inside, and Meera watched and waved to her sister through the window while he did.

Back in the truck, Meera commented “I think I might go crazy if I lived there.”

“I think I might have already. I’m going to think of Cherrie’s house every time I smell cinnamon or roses from now on.” 

“I hope Sama likes it. It’s the opposite of Uncle Ram’s so maybe there’s a good chance.”

“How is he with all this?”

“I don’t know. He still doesn’t say. If I bring it up, it’s the only thing that brings old Uncle Ram back for a moment. He gets all quiet and angry and righteous, but he doesn’t say anything.”

They drove in silence for a while longer, until they’d crossed the bridge out of town and started winding back toward the farm.

“I feel bad leaving her with Cherrie. I wish I could make it okay for her back home, but I can’t be home with her all the time, and with Uncle Ram... I don’t know what he’d do. I don’t know if he can change for her. Never mind if he would.”