This is the point at which I woke from the dream, but the story went on. The next morning, Sunday, I woke in a strange bed and the man who was my husband was gone. I recognized the room as the master suit of the hour from the gathering the night before. The room was as beautiful now as it had been twelve hours earlier. The walls were a cream color with a shiny, gold pattern on it. The wood of the furniture was a polished cherry. I was looking at each piece from the our post bed which had dark red, velvet curtains around it, tied back with gold ropes at each post. A canopy made of the same, rich curtain, fabric was above my head. There were tall windows on either side of the bed, as if the bed or the windows had been made to fit together. Low night stands sat below the windows, each with a lamp and an iHome, though I did not know what they were at the time. There were four doors in the room, I could not remember which would take me out into the rest of the house, so I tried them all. The first was to my left, the opposite side of the room from the side of the bed where I had awakened. This lead to a large office with recording equipment, a mixing board, microphone, carpeted walls, and a large desk with three different computers on it. The decor was Gothic and dark. Swards on display mounts and other masculine looking things were well places and set out. This was not what I was looking for.
Now there was one door across from each of the two windows. I went for the one on the left first, figuring I would make my was around the room clockwise. Wrong again, it was a closet, an empty closet. I skipped the next door and went straight for the last one thinking that if that was the closet then the next one would be the master suit bathroom. This was the room that I walked into, another door on either side of me, a sink beyond each of them a window above the sink on the right and a door next to the sink on the left,then a shower, with a large whirlpool tub in the right far corner. At this point I evaluated that the door that I had skipped was the door out, that was enough for me, so I decided to explore. This was my home after all, I wasn't snooping, I was admiring the fact that I was finally living in my dream home. The small door to my right, in the bathroom was a linen closet, the first door to the left was a toilet, the second was a gigantic walk-in-closet. There was even a small nook to the left with a mirror and a dressing table. A switch turned on the lighting for my little spot and I sat down on the soft silk seat. This was the first time I had to really look at myself, as an adult. I looked about the same, perhaps a bit more mature, which is to be expected. My hair was short in the back and long in the front and I still had chubby cheeks, though I was still only a size 8, according to my wardrobe hanging all about me. My clothes were wonderful, very grown up, and everything looked perfect on me, from cut to color.
“My house, my things,” I thought. I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, showered, and got ready for my day. Dark blue, straight leg jeans, a three quarter length sleeve, leaf green shirt, and brown loafers were my choice today. I felt great and looked great too. It seemed like I had everything I could ever need or want. Being right on believing that the door that I had not checked was the way out, I opened the last door and stepped out into the rest of my home.
I was at the top of a landing that looked down to the foyer below. I had the choice to go down stairs or check out the other rooms on the second floor. I chose to investigate, though I could smell coffee coming from below the stair. I practically tip towed down the open hall to the first room, facing the front of the house. It was a bedroom with a walk-in-closet. There was a full sized bed , with two matching dressers, a book case full of books, and round tables as night stands. This room was decorated in yellow and oranges. The bed cover was the patch work quilt that my aunt had made for me not six years ago, though now it was twenty-five or so years old.
I found it quite interesting, but quickly moved on to the adjacent door with the same clockwise idea that had driven me before. Another bed room, a mirror image to the first. The only difference was that this room held a queen size bed, reds and blues seemed to be the primary color pallet for this room. On the be was the denim quilt that my mother had made for me the year before, though again, now it was more than twenty years old. I closed the door, then moved on to another door. The third room was looked to be a more feminine study area. Decorated in browns, pinks,and creams, I thought it looked rather Neapolitan, but I liked it very much. A chocolate colored writing desk sat between two tall windows. Opposite the desk on the same wall as the door was a chocolate brown leather chase with a small stack of books resting on the floor near by. There was another door by the chase that belonged to a closet, not a walk in, but large enough to accommodate four six foot book cases full of study material. There were books, audio books, computer software, text books, work books, notebooks, and music books. I looked through them all and realized that if this was my study, then these were the things that I had been studying for the last fifteen to twenty years. Many subjects were covered in this small closet, music, arts, language, civics, history, economics, and everything I had found myself talking to guests about at the party the previous evening. I searched my desk to find dip pens and parchment, inkwells and blotters, wax seals and embossers. There was a lap top computer and an iPod, and another iHome there as well. Also in the room was a book case containing all of the classic books that I had apparently read over the years. I was learning that I was a very intelligent woman, very accomplished by Jane Austin standards. I could not believe myself. Would I, could I become this mental giant? Would I live in this house? Be married to this fine looking man? What did I do with all of this knowledge? Did I work? Who or what paid for this house? How long had I been married?
It seemed that for all of the questions that I had answered about where I had gained all of this knowledge, now I had gained more questions about who I was, where I had been, and how I had come to this place. I didn't even know what state we were living in, let alone what town or city. Many things were coming naturally to me, like speaking Latin and playing piano, but if I could drive a vehicle, would I know were to go, how to get to different places. I feared to ask my husband, he might think that I had lost my mind, not knowing where we lived or how long we had been married. To play it safe I decided it best to go on the instincts that had shown me how to play piano, do everything blindly and with as little forethought as possible.
I saw that the fourth door was open, the two sinks on the left hand side of it lead me to understand that this was a bathroom. Making my way down the stair, I followed my nose to the coffee maker in the kitchen. My darling husband, the fine specimen of a man that he was, sat on a bar stool eating oat meal and drinking coffee from a large mug.
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