Chapter Three
Liam
I drove past the church, my head turning to catch a glimpse of what looked like Alyssa. My foot slammed against the brakes, stopping my truck just seconds before plowing into the truck in front of me. Was that her?
She was my first love, my first kiss, my first everything.
Her head didn’t turn towards my screeching tires, but I was certain that was her. The man in the car in front of me glared through his rearview mirror as he sped off, leaving plenty of space between us as I continued up the street.
I pulled up to my childhood home. It looked so much smaller than I remembered. The blue paint was beginning to chip from the house, the windows looked clouded with dust, and the flower beds my mother had been so proud of were now a neglected mess of weeds. I turned off the truck, stared up the walk towards the white front door, and felt a chill roll down my spine. I hadn’t been back here since the car accident that claimed my parents’ lives while I served overseas. I had an excuse not to come back then, but in the remaining years that passed, it was only this feeling of emptiness that kept me away.
My eyes veered towards the house next door: Bill’s house. It was painted yellow, no chips. The flower pots on the front porch were filled with brightly colored blossoms, and the yard perfectly manicured. I’d paid him to look after the place until I returned, but I knew he was getting older, and the job was too much for him. I shook my head, feeling a sense of guilt from neglecting my childhood home, and took my first steps towards the front door.
A small tremble erupted in my hand as it reached for the lock with the key. The cut metal fit perfectly into the keyhole, and with one turn, the door was unlocked. I pushed open the door to a musty odor that nearly knocked me down. My hand covered my mouth and nose as I entered, my eyes squinting through the dusty room to see where I was going.
The room was dark, windows all covered with thick drapes that didn’t allow any sunlight to enter. I pushed open the draped from the large front window, allowing the sunlight to beam into the room. The rays caught the floating dust in the air; it was so thick it looked like a barrier. My hands waved at the dust, reaching forward to open the window and air out the aroma of neglect.
The brown leather recliner where my dad used to sit after work was tattered and worn. I’d planned on buying him a new one for Father’s Day the year before he passed, but I never got the chance. My mind drifted to his image in the chair, kicked back, with a drink in his hand, and complimenting my mother on whatever delicious aroma rolled from the kitchen. It was eerie being there without him, without them.
A vase stood in the center of the coffee table, empty. My mother always kept fresh flowers in there from her garden, but today, there were none. As the light glowed into the room, I looked around at the pictures on the walls, the tiny knick-knacks that my mother had collected, and then stared down the hallway towards my old room. I knew it was just as I left it, untouched and waiting for me to return home from overseas. I wasn’t ready to face my past just yet.
I reached towards the curtains, gripping them loosely between my fingers, and shook the dust from them, sending it into a wild fury throughout the room. I coughed as I moved around to the other curtains and repeated the process. I’d let it settle, and then grabbed a dust cloth, cleaning the furniture that my parents worked so hard to acquire.
In the kitchen, I opened the window, letting the cool fall air cleanse the mustiness from the room. The wooden table where I used to share meals with my parents looked small, so small that I couldn’t even imagine the three of us sitting there.
I pulled out one of the chairs, took a seat, and tried to remember my last family meal. It all seemed so long ago, so surreal.
As the eeriness of the dark, empty home took hold of me, my phone rang, startling me from my daze. I reached into my pocket, quickly pulling out the buzzing phone, and stared at the screen. Xander. I hadn’t heard from him in months.
“Hey, buddy,” I said cheerfully, disguising the sadness I felt.
“I heard you’re a big politician now,” he joked.
“Hardly,” I laughed.
I hated politics. I’d had enough experience with the government in the SEALs to know that most of it was corrupt. The long list of reasons why I didn’t want this job should have been more than enough for me to turn it down, but Senator Kline was a great man, and to me, seemed to be one of the last honest politicians. I told myself I was doing something good, something monumental, but honestly, I just wanted to come home.
“How are things going?” I questioned my old friend.
“Living the dream,” he sighed.
I couldn’t tell if it was a content sigh or one of discontent. I knew he’d been struggling with therapy, trying to work himself out of the solitude he lived in so he could share his life with Bailey. From what I’d heard, it was going well.
“You still in therapy?” I questioned.
“Oh yeah. It’s going well, real well,” his tone perked up.
“You had me worried there for a minute. I was afraid you took back off to the mountains,” I admitted.
There was a long silence over the phone while I waited for him to respond. Another sigh, this one more elated than the first.
“There’s no chance of that. I’m a family man now, and it’s growing fast,” he hinted.
My heart raced as I realized what he was saying. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?” I asked, pushing the chair back quickly so it squeaked against the tile floor and standing to the news.
“Yes, sir. Bailey’s expecting,” he announced proudly.
“That is great. I’m so happy for you,” I gushed, trying to picture Xander as a father. It was hard enough to picture him as a husband, but he’d done that surprisingly well.
“How are ya settling in there?” he asked, changing the subject back to my life.
“It’s a little strange. Just got to the house,” I sighed.
I walked through the house with the phone to my ear, explaining to Xander how it looked, as if I were giving him a tour of the old place. He laughed as I told him about the high school photos on the walls and teased me about having old wrestling trophies still on my dresser in my old room. It was the first time I’d walked in there. Having Xander on the phone with me kept me from feeling so alone as I entered the old room.
The twin bed was made, the curtains pulled tightly to hide the sunlight, and a poster of a Sports Illustrated bikini model was hanging on the back of my door where I’d left it.
“I’m gonna have to make it out there for a visit,” I announced, sitting on the edge of my bed.
The mattress was stiff, and the springs could be felt through the thin lining. How did I sleep on this thing?
“I’d like that. I’ll let you get settled in. If you need anything, just call,” Xander offered before we hung up.
It was good to hear his voice. I hated to hang up and face the loneliness of the house once again.
I walked to the window, pushing open the curtains, slapped them like a whip to release the settled dust, and then left my room to venture through the rest of the house. My parents’ room: the room that I never entered, even as a child. It was their sanctuary and off limits to me. I stood in the doorway, as if the rule of ‘do not enter’ still applied. The king-sized bed looked soft and plush, much more inviting than my small twin. Everything was perfectly placed, decorated with floral prints and stripes, and matching curtains shut it off from the outside world.
I stepped inside. A chill ran down my spine as I could almost hear my father’s voice telling me to stay out of his room.
The large walk-in closet was empty, with the exception of a few wire hangers. I’d given Bill, the neighbor, instructions to give their clothes to charity, but now, with them all gone, it felt sad. I missed the chance to touch the sleeve of my dad’s corduroy jacket, to smell my mother’s perfume on her favorite red dress.
I shook off the feeling of sadness running through me and shook out the dusty curtains before spreading them open to reveal the sunlight from outside the glass. My eyes caught a glimpse of something, a shadow, something small, running along the fence line near the house. My heart raced as I stretched to make out what had just fled from my backyard into the street. A girl, young, with long blonde hair, ran down the sidewalk towards the corner. I rushed from the room and out the front door, trying to get a better look and possibly to catch any other kids that might have been with her, but the yard and the sidewalk were empty.
“I see ya met her,” my head turned towards Bill’s voice.
The old man looked as if he’d aged thirty years since I’d seen him last. He walked towards me, stopping to lean against the fence.
“Met who?” I questioned.
“Our Holly,” he replied with a strange smirk.
Our?
“I’m sorry, but I’m just a little confused,” I admitted.
His smirk slid sideways up the left side of his face, and he chuckled with a quick shake of the head. “I’m sorry about the flower beds. I’d kept them up until the last year or so. My back’s been pretty bad, so I had to slow down,” he changed the subject.
“No, don’t worry about that. I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I responded.
Bill gave me another curious smile and then walked away. He mumbled something about getting settled in as he walked away. I was still wondering who Holly was and why he acted as though I should know.
“Has this whole town gone nuts?”
I walked into the house, calling Aiden as I shut the front door.
“What’s up,” his voice was friendly and normal.
“I wish I knew,” I chucked.
A silence left me with that uneasy feeling I was growing accustomed to since returning to this town.
“Something is just really weird here,” I admitted.
“You want to meet for coffee?” Aiden offered.
His tone was serious, as if he was trying to tell me something. Maybe I wasn’t imagining it; maybe there was a reason everyone looked at me the way they did, acted the way they did…
“Yeah, I could use a cup,” I responded.
We made plans to meet at the diner in an hour, and I was left with a strange feeling that Aiden knew why everyone was acting so strange and could only hope that he’d enlighten me.