The House Felt Different
1023 Words
By the time they got back to the estate, Anaya was officially tired of people feeling sorry for her.
Every face looked the same.
The same sad smile.
The same hug.
The same I’m so sorry.
She knew they meant well. She really did.
She just wished they’d stop looking at her like she might break if somebody spoke too loudly.
Kathy got out of the car first and stretched.
“I swear,” she groaned, rubbing the back of her neck, “if I have to wear heels to another funeral this year, I’m suing somebody.”
Anaya looked at her.
“You can’t sue death.”
“I’ll find a loophole.”
That earned her half a smile.
“I saw that,” Kathy said.
“Saw what?”
“You almost smiled.”
“I absolutely did not.”
“Liar.”
Anaya rolled her eyes and walked towards the house before Kathy could say anything else.
The front doors were open.
People were still inside.
Some were collecting handbags. Others stood in little groups talking quietly. A few of the older women were already discussing who had cried the most at the cemetery.
Typical.
Mrs. Ellis spotted her immediately.
“My dear…”
Anaya hugged her before she could finish.
Mrs. Ellis had worked for her mother for almost twenty years. She’d seen Anaya lose teeth, fail exams, cry over her first heartbreak and nearly burn the kitchen trying to make pancakes at twelve.
She smelled like cinnamon and fabric softener.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Mrs. Ellis whispered.
Home.
The word felt strange today.
“I’m going to the kitchen,” Anaya said.
Mrs. Ellis nodded.
“I’ll bring something for you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
That was the end of the discussion.
Mrs. Ellis never argued.
She simply decided.
The kitchen was exactly how they’d left it yesterday morning.
Almost.
The flowers someone had dropped off now sat in a vase by the window.
Everything else looked the same.
Anaya grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
She’d barely taken a sip when her eyes landed on the coffee machine.
The mug.
Still there.
White.
Chipped near the handle.
Her mum had refused to throw it away because, according to her, “good mugs deserved second chances.”
Anaya used to laugh every time she said that.
Now she just stood there looking at it.
Funny.
Yesterday morning she’d walked past that mug without even noticing it.
Now it was the only thing she could see.
“You’ve been hiding from me.”
Kelvin’s voice broke the silence.
She turned around.
He’d taken off his jacket and loosened his tie. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and for the first time all day he looked less like the CEO of Banks Holdings and more like the man who used to spend Saturday mornings arguing with the gardener over football.
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“No?”
“No.”
He looked around the empty kitchen.
“Mhmm.”
“I wasn’t.”
“If you say so.”
He opened the fridge.
“You haven’t eaten.”
She groaned.
“Oh God, not you too.”
“What?”
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
“Probably because it’s true.”
He reached for the bread.
Then the turkey.
Then cheese.
Like he’d done it a hundred times before.
Maybe he had.
“I can make my own sandwich.”
“I know.”
“So why are you making one?”
“Because if I leave it to you, you’ll call three biscuits lunch.”
“I have done no such thing.”
Kelvin looked at her.
She looked back.
“…Okay, maybe once.”
He laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“I’ve been waiting all day to hear you argue with me.”
Something about that made her chest ache.
Not because of what he said.
Because it sounded normal.
Like today wasn’t today.
Like Mum was upstairs answering emails and she’d walk in any minute asking why nobody had made her one too.
Kelvin slid the plate across the counter.
“Eat.”
She stared at it.
He didn’t.
He opened a bottle of sparkling water, took a drink and leaned against the counter.
No speeches.
No your mother would’ve wanted this.
Just quiet.
She picked up half the sandwich and took a bite.
He nodded once.
“Good.”
That was it.
He set his bottle down, stepped over and kissed the top of her head.
It was quick.
The same kiss he’d given her before every exam.
Before university.
Before every birthday dinner.
Nothing about it had changed.
“I’m going to check on the guests,” he said. “I’ll come find you before the lawyers get here.”
She nodded with her mouth full.
He smiled.
“Your mother would’ve told you not to talk while eating.”
“I wasn’t talking.”
“You were about to.”
She swallowed.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
He picked up his jacket and headed for the door.
Halfway out he stopped.
“Oh… and finish the sandwich.”
She waited until he’d disappeared before mumbling,
“Bossy.”
“I heard that.”
His voice floated down the hallway.
She smiled despite herself.
A real one this time.
“…Well,” Kathy said, walking into the kitchen with her heels dangling from one hand. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one trying to keep you alive.”
Anaya looked at the sandwich.
Then towards the hallway where Kelvin had disappeared.
“He made this?”
“He always does.”
Kathy reached over, tore off a tiny corner and popped it into her mouth.
Anaya stared at her.
“…Did you just steal my sandwich?”
Kathy blinked.
“I was quality testing.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“It passed.”
For the first time that day, the kitchen didn’t feel quite so heavy.
Not lighter.
Just…
bearable.
- Writer
