Wednesday Night at the Brownstone, Beau Jardin
The streets were quiet as Kiki and Geoff, their dinner over, crossed by the cricket-filled park and turned towards the Brownstone, the pale street lamps glowing in the misty haze of a warm early summer night. Uncle James and Papa Phale had left the front stoop light on for her, she saw, but the rest of the windows of the stately, comfortable house were dark.
"It must be later than I thought," Kiki observed quietly, unlocking the door. "It looks like everyone is in bed already."
She silently pushed the front door shut behind them after they entered and turned on the hall light as she led the way to the staircase, shutting it off again once Geoff had followed. "I don't want to wake anyone up," she murmured, opening a door on the second floor. "Here's the spare room. I'll grab some towels for you; the bathroom's that door on the left."
"It must be later than I thought," Kiki observed quietly, unlocking the door. "It looks like everyone is in bed already."
She silently pushed the front door shut behind them after they entered and turned on the hall light as she led the way to the staircase, shutting it off again once Geoff had followed. "I don't want to wake anyone up," she murmured, opening a door on the second floor. "Here's the spare room. I'll grab some towels for you; the bathroom's that door on the left."