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Noone was allowed. I recall the day I saw him leave without locking the door. As a curious child, I didn't miss this unique opportunity to sneak inside this mysterious part of our home. I still vividly remember the blackboards covered in random numbers, math equations, drawings. Gadgets covered work tables. I was so entranced, I didn't hear my father come back. The beating that followed would stay off any further curiosities on my part.My father, Professor William Barrows, taught physics at a prestigious college nearby. When he was home, he spent his time locked away in the west wing. I remember all too well my parents constantly fighting over his distractions from family interactions. However, both my parents seemed to forget I was there, needing love from them. At eighteen, I left home and never returned. A few years later, I got word from a relative my mother passed away from cancer, but I knew what really killed her. She died of a broken heart. And I never forgave my father. To. I must go and get out of my office clothes." Yes, Bill. Of course."Bill went upstairs, pondering. He had been surprised by the kiss that morning and, while Wendy had not kissed him on his arrival home, it was the first time she had ever made a point of greeting him other than casually. And then she had sought his approval about what she was doing for dinner. That was a first too. He shrugged his shoulders, showered and changed.He arrived back downstairs as Sally emerged. As was their wont they congregated in the kitchen. Sally helped herself to a juice and Bill poured himself his evening whisky and soda.Wendy shooed them out of the kitchen telling them to enjoy their drinks in the drawing room. Looking slightly surprised they obeyed. Supper preparation had always been a time of three way conversation."What's up with Wendy?" Bill asked Sally and told her about her behaviour when he got home."I don't think she knows but she may be falling in love with you." Oh, golly! What on earth.
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