Title Pending

Stranger and sadder

Jen and I left my father’s office not long after, and we decided it was probably for the best to try to get ourselves settled in the room. My mind can’t stop thinking about the books my father had open on his desk and the way my mom looked like she had just seen the death of thousands, like she must be hiding something. But what could it be? As my mind wanders and races, it becomes clearer and clearer that sitting here is not going to be doing me anything, so I begin to wander the old house as Jen takes a shower. It’s strange being back in the house; it’s almost a melancholic type of sadness where most of my memories are great, but the sinking, creeping dread and weight of time are seeping into every crack and crevice of my mind. I find myself walking into the room where I used to love spending my time when my mother was busy with something and my father was in his office. This room was far enough away in the house to actually be alone, so when I begged and begged for a piano for Christmas one year, this is the only place it could be. When I walked in, I had expected it to be tainted by the washes of time and stress, but it was almost the exact same as when I was a child. The keys were still ivory white, and as I began to test the tuning of the piano, it was in tune, which was shocking because no one besides me knew how to tune it. My father swore he’d learn each time I told him about it, and my mother made no such fake promises. It was honestly the only thing I could accept in my life: that my father was busy and acted like he loved me, and my mother was busy and didn’t. The piano was perfect. I began to play the song my grandma taught me when I was first interested in learning it. It took me a minute or two, but it filled my soul with the feeling that she is still there and will always love me. I felt her hand on mine as I noticed I’d finished playing the song. My eyes were shut and hurt as I’d been crying. Jen comes into the room shortly after, her hair wet and damp. As I look at her, noticing the sadness she is trying to hide, I’m almost worried that something happened. Then I notice it’s for my sake. My mask slipped and was gone for a moment, and I didn’t know. I wipe my eyes and turn fully to look at her. “Hey, is everything alright?” I stand up and begin to move towards her. As I seem to knock something off of the piano bench, I quickly pick it up and walk over towards Jen. “Yeah, Shea,” she says, wiping her own eyes. “I was just worried about you. I couldn’t find you after my shower, and then I heard the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard and found you crying. Are you doing okay? I know this is a lot, but you know you can rely on me, right?” I nod and begin to sigh as I hear the doorbell ring, which shocks me because that was broken for the longest time. “Jesus, well at least they got that fixed,” I say, any thoughts of sadness or fear of dealing with everything being emptied from my mind as I walk to the door, hearing my mother blathering on the phone about some new cosmetic and knowing wherever my father is in the house, he won’t bother opening the door. I open the door and see a man I’ve never seen before, but his eyes light up the moment he alights on me. “You are just who I’ve been looking for. I’ve been told so much about you, Shea. Your grandmother was a saint. I know you know that, but I don’t know so much about the others.” He gives a hearty laugh and steps into the house without saying anything. “So where is your mother and her plastic face? Sorry that was rude of me. Let me introduce myself. I am, or for lack of a better word, your grandmother’s caretaker.” These words hit me in the stomach. “Caretaker? Why didn’t I know she needed one? I would have been here.” “Before you say anything, your grandma didn’t want to bother you being so far away with school. She wants you to succeed. She loved you very much, but my name is Mace. It’s very lovely to meet you. And who is your friend?” He says as Jen still damp and wearing just a tee shirt and short, blushing for a moment trying not to be seen as she says, “My name is Jen.” Mace then smiles softly. “So I heard you were coming by and wanted to introduce myself and also tell you what I know about what happened. I had just left for the night and didn’t know it actually happened till the next morning. Do you need more time or would you like to hear about it?” My mind raced, still stuck on the caretaker, beating myself up about it and why she didn’t want me to hear, but knowing she loved me so much and knew if I was here or even knew I wouldn’t be able to focus. My brain begins to reel as I look at Mace, and I notice his medium-length hair, soft cheeks, and no stubble on his chin, making him almost look like a child who wants to be praised. And to not disappoint him, I say, “Let me make some coffee. There is just so much today that I need it to function.” I don’t wait to hear how he responds. I just walk towards the kitchen and start the shitty coffee maker, trying not to think more about the notes as they keep slithering into my mind over and over again, funny enough like an earworm might if you hear a good song. I turn to see Jen and Mace behind me as I pull out three cups and pour them, adding sugar to mine and asking, “Milk, sugar, either of you?” They both shrug and say both, and so I make the coffee. It’s cheap junk you can get at big chains, but it works as I sink into the chair, waiting, building myself up for the weight of what Mace has to say. My phone rings, and I look at it. My dad?I quickly pick up the phone to hear what sounds like panting before turning into soaking sobs and screaming. I drop my phone. The corner hits, and the call ends. My head races. “What the f**k?”