All she could think as she walked up to the house was how beautiful it was. She had let Peggy pin her hair back into a better style to fit her incredible feathered dress, short as she dared, and tiny stud earrings that made her eyes sparkle. Peggy had been kind enough to agree to look after Charlie for the night again, which he had been okay about when she promised him he could play with Stevie's train set. Abi could hear the faint sounds of music already and stopped to take it all in.
This was Gatsby's house, the one she'd read descriptions of. The house she had dreamt about living in, if she had been so lucky. It was beautiful, magical, that kind of aura that Gatsby had himself. She felt at home here, deep in her book fantasy with another literary one on her arm.