An Extraordinary Life

Good Company

Isabella woke up to birds chirping and the morning sun lighting up her bedroom. For a few moments she forgot where she was, and thought she was trapped in a lucid dream. That kind of dream that feels so real you can reach out and touch everything around you, until you realize you're actually dreaming and do everything you can to wake yourself up.

When she rolled over and saw her brown suitcase in the corner of the room, she was reminded of her new reality. Not dreaming. Her alarm clock read 10:07am.

At the realization that she had woken up on the other side of the world, a surge of anxiety went through her. She got up quickly, nearly stumbling over thanks to the Benadryl still working its way out of her system.

She noticed two full glasses of water on the table that hadn't been there when she went to bed. This made her remember Mary coming back into her room in the middle of the night with Phoebe, as they checked her out and administered her another dose.

Looking up at herself in the mirror, she noticed that she was wearing the same outfit as the night before. She opened the chest of drawers in front of her and sorted through her underwear drawer and then her pajama drawer, choosing a pair of Nike athletic shorts to slip on.

Isabella didn't want to go downstairs, but she knew she couldn't hide up here forever. After brushing her teeth and French-braiding her hair, she headed downstairs to face the Garden Lodge crew.

The closer she got to the kitchen, the stronger the aromas of whatever had been cooked for breakfast wafted into her nose. It smelled delicious, and she hadn't realized how hungry she was until that moment.

"Ah, there she is! Miss America," Joe beamed once Isabella timidly entered the kitchen. Tiffany was perched on a rounded stool next to him, watching Isabella's every move.

"I just got started on my grocery list for the week, but there's a plate for you in the microwave. It should still be warm, but if you need it heated up again just say the word."

"Amazing, thank you," Isabella breathed, relieved it was just him in the kitchen. "I'm starving."

She appreciated that he didn't bring up what had happened the evening before, and took the fact that her rash was gone and she'd pulled herself together as enough confirmation that she was better.

Isabella opened the microwave and found a blue plate that had two chocolate chip pancakes, a few pieces of bacon, and cut up strawberries on the side.

"You made pancakes?"

Joe put his pen down. "Yeah, do you like em? I can make something else if-"

"I love pancakes! We make them at... at home, all the time."

"Americans and pancakes go hand and hand," Joe grinned, and picked his pen back up. "I usually make Freddie crepes, but this morning he ate three pancakes. I think it's safe to say they'll be a new breakfast menu item here. There's also orange juice and milk in the fridge."

"Thanks, Joe. Is Freddie...?"

"Here?" he raised a brow. "No, he's at the airport with Phoebe. They didn't say goodbye?"

"I was going to say... is he mad at me," Isabella whispered. "I didn't know he was leaving."

Joe sighed disappointedly. "I know you just moved in but he should've had the decency to tell you. He can be a bit of a prick sometimes but he's nothing if not well-mannered. I'm sorry, kiddo. He's, as the English would say, all out of sorts."

"Did he leave because of me?" Isabella put her plate down at the table, sitting across from Joe. Suddenly, her appetite wasn't what it was moments ago.