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The key turned and the door opened to 1360 square feet of home. The lights were on. Diana Marmont shot a glance at her husband. She told him so.
Jules Marmont lifted a finger, a smile threatened to take his face, “Ah, we may have just missed Barrera. This proves nothing,” he insisted.
Diana stepped inside and gave their flat a sweeping glance. A year and a half away from home might have tricked any other woman's memory. Not hers. She lifted their keys, pointing at the long, low set sofa off to the right.
“The cushions look worn. He's had guests here.”
“Guest? No!” Jules scoffed, stepping in after her, “The man has to sit somewhere. It could have just been him.”
“He must have been sleeping on the couch, then. Every night,” Diana clicked, marching over to the couch to investigate more thoroughly.
The shelves behind the couch then stole her attention. The dusting was only half done.
She turned back to her husband with a smug look. Half pleased to be right, and half furious, “How much did we pay Barrera? For this?”
Jules joined her at her side. Their house keeper was told quite suddenly to get cleaning done and get out. He was probably taken by surprise. Only the front of the shelves and the decorative knick-knacks on them were dusted so that they would seem clean at a passing glance.
Jules shook his head and clicked his tongue, “Aaaah, Barrera! I had faith in you!”
Diana won again.
With a triumphant snort, she marched off to their bedroom. They were only here to pack more things, after all. They would be leaving again, and this time there was no telling when they would be back. Work at the FBC kept both prestigious scientists away from home. It was all but too easy for their housekeeper to grow lax in his duties, particularly after a year with no show from his employers.
Jules gave him the benefit of the doubt. He handpicked Barrera himself from a list of applicants. Diana didn't care about who watched the house while they were, so long as it wasn't another woman.
Jules had playfully ribbed her for that.
For the shame, Jules decided to fire Barrera himself. It was an act of mercy, really, he told himself. Diana had quite the bite. In truth, Jules just wanted the chance to dig his heels in himself. It wasn't that he was angry. Not really. It was all just game, after all.
But he did so hate losing.
He jaunted into the kitchen to see if he could find anything else amiss. The black marble counter tops had been polished to a mirror sheen. There wasn't a utensil in sight. The sink was spotless. Jules even found the remote to the smart device that ran the whole kitchen right where it was supposed to be. He snatched it up at once. The Marmont's place of employment had a special rule against modern technology. Working there for long stretches of time, one could almost forget what year they were living in. One of the best parts of coming home was rejoining the 21st century.
He pressed a button, powering on a radio that was build into the cabinets. Disgustingly vapid pop music blared from the surround sound speakers positioned around the kitchen.
Jules pulled a face, “Ah! Barrera! You keep failing me!”
He quickly corrected the music choice to something a little more exotic and then went to investigate the fridge. Surprisingly, it was not left empty. A large flank of salmon greeted Jules, as well as a colorful bag of vegetables. Barrera had made himself at home here after all. Jules snorted, amused.
My fridge. My food.
“Hey, Jules?” Diana called from their room, “I'm gonna take a bath while we're here. All right?”
“Feel free, I'll cook something.”
“Cook? Cook what?”
“It's a surprise!”
Down the hall and in their bedroom, Diana sighed. Like her husband, she had grown distracted with the comforts of home admits her packing. Their room was left undisturbed and God help Barrera if it had been otherwise.
There was a long dresser adorned with a massive mirror across from their bed. Neither of them collected much clutter, but that was where Diana kept her small boxes of jewelry, as well as an expensive bottle of French perfume that her husband bought her. She didn't collect much jewelry. The only time she ever really wore any was when Jules took her out to dinner to those ridiculously expensive places upstate. She always felt like a fish out of water in those places. Her hair was cut far too short for fashion but not short enough for military. She was a working woman, after all. Practical. Professional. For the first few dates they went on, she made a point to wear a dress suit just to see if it would drive the would be suitor off.
It did not.
Jules on the other hand, was in his element those nights. Dressed like a million dollars, Diana eventually resigned herself to a no nonsense evening gown. She couldn't compete with Jules there, not that she would ever tell him. The smug jerk probably already knew. Finely dressed and elegantly spoken, if he wasn't such a spectacle she would resent those nights out. Diana dispelled the thoughts with the shake of her head and a scoff. They really had been away for a long time. This visit would have to be brief or she risked catching homesickness. Her eyes flickered to the bathroom door.
Well, there was one thing.
She wasn't a very high maintenance woman, but there were few luxuries that were essential to life. Essential to happiness. Their shared bathroom was sleek, spacious and modern. The shower tucked away to the left had flawless glass doors. There were candles that no one ever lit decorated the nooks and low shelves. Usually, the bathroom smelled like overpriced cologne, but Jules hadn't been home in over a year. Even then, Diana could still detect faint traces of Benjoin Bohème. While Jules indulged in two hundred dollar cologne, Diana sank five thousand into a bath tub.
The tub, of course, was just as much a computer as it was a bath. It came with an electronic panel, built in TV, and smart controls for the water jets, temperature and pump control. It was big enough for two people, but Diana was the only one who used it the most. Staring into the empty tub, she then called out to inform Jules that she would be a minute. She didn't know him to be impatient, but when he mentioned he was cooking she pulled a face. Shrugging, she decided to leave him to it. She wasn't very hungry anyway.
It wasn't as though Jules was a bad cook. He imagined himself to be pretty well versed in the culinary arts. It was simply that he didn't always full attention to the task at hand. Be at home or at work. Thankfully, at work, Diana was usually there to tidy up behind him.
In the kitchen, Jules grabbed a bottle of wine from the collection lining the counter-top and turned on some dancing music. He knew a recipe for glazed salmon by heart.
Well, most of it.
He helped himself to wine straight from the bottle to get things started. It looked like Barrera had plans to enjoy glazed salmon himself. All the ingredients were easily accounted for, although Jules mistook a bag lemons for oranges. A mistake that would have easily been noticed moments later, but he helped himself to more wine and turned the music up, carried away in his private celebration.
And why not celebrate?
He and Diana were leaving The Oldest House and heading to Bright Falls. They were going to be the heads of Research Facility WA-03.The king and queen of their own castle and on the edge of one of the most active thresholds in recent history. Wrangling that coveted position was no small feat, Jules boasted to his wife when the news came. Despite what the department heads wanted you to think, it took more than a keen intellect to climb the ranks in the FBC. Office politics were Jules's specialty, after all.
The particularly bright oranges were made into a simple glaze and the salmon was left to bake in the oven. It would be ready before Diana, surely. With that thought, he decided to saute some asparagus with garlic. It wouldn't take ten minutes. He took another drink from the bottle in his hands and picked up the remote again. Music. He had to have the right music to keep this party alive.
While Jules danced the dinner preparations, Diana had cat nap in peaceful solitude. After all, there was no telling when they would be able to come home again. Not that she had any regrets. She was excited to throw herself into her work. That's why these little diversions were justified. With the FBC's policy against modern tech, there would be no hot baths like this in Bright Falls. Before she could drift into a deeper sleep, her husband's chipper call ripped open her eyes. She loudly groaned in disappointment. That couldn't have been more than thirty minutes.
“What the hell did you make?!” she blurted out loud.
“You'll have to come see!” he sang back to her.
He's drinking. That wine was supposed to be decorative.
Aggravated, Diana pulled herself out of the tub and threw on a bath robe to go see what sort of mess her husband made in the kitchen. He was waiting for her, a nearly empty bottle of wine in one hand.
“Dressed in your finest, I see,” he teased upon seeing her.
“Did you seriously drink that whole bottle yourself?” Diana scowled.
“No, I used it to pour our glasses. I'm just drinking what's left,” Jules assured her.
“You know, we have to be at the airport in...maybe two hours?” she reminded him.
“Then don't take two hours to eat,” he shrugged with a grin.
“Don't take two hours to pack,” she countered and stepped into the kitchen.
The table looked promising, at least, and it didn't seem like he made a mess of the kitchen, though the sink was full now. That was a problem for their new housekeeper. “Baked salmon and asparagus,” Diana noted, looking over the table.
She didn’t voice any enthusiasm, but no disapproval either. That was good enough for Jules.
“And uh…you went a bit heavy on the lemons,” she noted.
Two slices of lemons topped each plate of salmon.
“They are oranges,” her husband corrected.
“They're yellow,” Diana pointed out.
“They're just a bit under ripe,” Jules assured her.
Diana glanced at the plates again, back and Jules. She didn't know whether to laugh or scream.
Sitting down, she chose neither and tried to give Jules the benefit of the doubt. It didn't go far. Leaning over the plate, she was met with the overwhelming scent of lemon. Jules sat across from her, oblivious, and tipped his glass of wine. Diana lifted her fork but paused and watched Jules discreetly. He took a bite and made a face. His expression was a mix between confusion and utter offense. He stared, baffled no doubt, as to how he could have been so sorely mistaken.
Diana snorted. She picked off the lemon slices and took up her own glass. Tipping it to husband with amusement, she then splashed her fish with some of the red wine.
“Takes the edge off,” she informed him, “You can also use tomato paste.”
Jules hesitated, and then followed her lead, splashing his plate with wine. Diana took a bite, winced and poured a little more wine onto her plate. Lifting her eyes, she watched Jules try his fish again. He nodded thoughtfully and then glanced up at Diana. He sighed and regarded her with a mix of pride and affection.
Of course, Diana had the answer. She always did. That's why he loved her.