Page 41 of Claiming What's Mine
“You just made my day, this smile will be stuck here the rest of the afternoon.” Slapping my chest lightly, the frail woman thinned her lips. “I heard about your father, I'm so sorry for your loss.”
Forcing a smile, I tried to show some sadness for the death of my father, but I felt nothing. His death brought up no emotions, no feelings, I just felt a sense of relief.
“Yeah, it's sad.” I lied, but I didn't have a choice. What would people think if I shrugged it off?
“Things will get better, time heals all wounds.”
That's a lie if I ever heard one. Some wounds never heal.
“I'm just hopeful he's at peace.”
Squeezing my shoulder, Vicki kept her eyes on the ground as she held her cross necklace in her free hand. “May he live a fuller life with those we've loved and lost. Amen.” Kissing her necklace, she wrapped her arm around my neck and pulled me in for a hug.
I couldn't figure out why everyone acted like he was a saint. Mrs. Vicki said a prayer for him, Mr. Jameson, the old barber, stopped me to tell me what a wonderful man my father was. People spoke about him as if he had founded this small community and fed everyone in it. It was like everything else was forgotten, all of it just erased by his death.
It blew my mind how people changed their views of someone so quickly once they died. Everyone knew who my father was, everyone knew the type of man he was, and the life he lived.
It wasn't a secret that he got arrested for beating me or lost my little sister to CPS because of it. It wasn't a secret that he was a drunk, that he was full of rage and anger, almost always ready to tear off someone's head.
And as I walked the streets, passing places that brought back memories of a time I wanted to forget, of moments that were better left locked up and pushed into the back of my mind, none of those moments involved my father.
Blue. . .
Glancing over at the old farm house, it looked like it was vacant again, same as before she moved in all those years ago. The grass was more than overgrown, standing at least two feet high, there were missing shingles from the roof and rotting boards on the siding.
The bright blue shutters were dull and faded, with tufts of hay and dead grass sticking out from behind the seams. Slowing my pace, I noticed how the front window was broken and the screen door was hanging off the hinges, swinging back and forth in the breeze.
It looked different, too different, and yet, similar enough for a rush of memories and emotions to flood my body. The window I used to throw rocks at, the field we caught fireflies in, the area where the barn was. . .
No, I'm done with that, and I have been for years.
Forcing my eyes back on the road, I tried to ignore the decrepit old house of my first love. But all I could see was her face that day, the day she shoved me away and told me we were done.
The look in her eyes had stayed with me. Glass tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes full of water, her pupils large as saucers, lashes splashing over the bubbled surface, releasing more droplets. It was her eyes that told me she wasn't ready for us to be over, but it was her words that sent me away.
What was I supposed to do? Should I have listened to her voice or her eyes?
It doesn't matter. That was so long ago, it's over.
Hanging my head, I pressed my feet into the pavement as I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and kept moving. Coming around the dirt bend, the farm house sprouted from the few trees that lined the front of the property.
It looked just as abandoned as Blue's old house. I knew my father moved back in after he got released from jail, but I was long gone at that point. The house itself had gone to shit. Windows were boarded up, the roof had visible holes, the back dining area looked like it was sinking into the ground.
Bethany ran out the door, her arms open wide. “Jay!” yelling, she jumped into my arms and gave me a huge hug. “I wasn't sure if you were actually coming or not.”
Stumbling back as she hit me full force, I coughed out a gush of air. “I told you I would,” I said, catching my balance and giving her a big hug in return.
“Yeah, but I still wasn't sure.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No,” Beth said, taking a step back and pulling her hair back into a low ponytail. “But this is different.”
“It's not different, I told you I would be here, so here I am.” Gripping the strap on my bag with both hands, I looked behind her at the house. “This place looks like shit. Does it feel weird to be inside?”
“Nah, I've been back a few times over the years. Judy and Tom were really sweet about letting me see Dad if I wanted to. They would take me for holidays and my birthday. Once in awhile if I asked, they would set up lunch or something with him.”
“And he actually followed through?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief.
