Sneak Peek
The rich, earthy smell of paint from the brush in my hands fills my lungs as I roll it in steady strokes across the wall.
I watch the wall absorb the cream color like a sponge, drinking in its hue and texture.
My mind wanders as I work, and I think about the memories of this house. Memories of my grandparents, who once called this place their home.
Grandpa died when I turned nine, and Grandma when I was sixteen. They had loved each other so much, and even we were surprised at how long Grandma had coped without her soulmate.
My mom grew up in this house. I could still see old pictures of herself and her siblings in their rooms.
It was bittersweet to be here, refurbishing the house they had once loved, putting in new furniture, and giving it a whole renovation. It was also a way of honoring their memory and keeping their spirit alive in this place.
As I cover up the old walls, I know their memories will always remain here, like an invisible ink beneath the fresh coat of lacquer that no one could ever erase.
I can almost hear the echoes of laughter and conversations that once filled these rooms and feel the warmth in the eyes of their owners as I work.
I envision myself running across the room with my brother and cousins while our parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents watched on with giggles filling the air. They smiled with an uncontainable joy from within their hearts.
We used to be one big, happy family, but death had snatched the best of us away.
It was true; quite a lot had changed since the last time I was here about four years ago when I was just fresh out of college.
The yard was overgrown and unkempt, and the neighboring house had become a derelict eyesore.
But now, I can’t help but notice the transformation everywhere, and I know Kelvin has to see it for himself.
There was a sense of newness and calmness to it all, and it was just exactly what I needed for a fresh start from the whole court drama with my parents’ estate.
The grass was now lush, and the flowerbeds bloomed with vibrant colors. Even the house next door looked completely different, all gleaming glass and modern lines. The owner must be taking great care of the whole yard.
I shook off my thoughts and tried to concentrate; my overalls were already covered like a canvas, and I still hadn’t gone halfway.
It was times like this that I missed having my brother here with me.
If he were here, he would have grabbed a brush and painted away with me while we chatted about the silliest things. He would not miss teasing me about my height and the inability of my hands to get to the top part of the walls.
But I was here alone and had to brace myself for this new life; after all, I had promised him I would be alright by myself, and couldn’t go back on those words.
I got a job in Selware Incorporation as an executive assistant and would do my best not to sabotage it. Kelvin was excited when I told him about my new job, but he had to rush over to Laurel, who had an emergency in court.
My brother and his fiancée are the sweetest couple I know, after my parents. Their wedding should have been two weeks after the incident occurred.
It saddens my heart that our parents would not be able to see my brother and me get married to our significant others.
Halfway into the painting, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway stops me on the track of my deep thoughts. I guessed it was the same black sports car I’d seen last night while standing by my window.
My neighbor.
I consider going over to get familiar but re-examine my steps as my feet are covered in paint, and my hair looks like a bird’s nest.
The car is in front of the house, and the lights are on inside. My neighbor must have been busy to have driven out that early on a Sunday morning.
I make a mental note to go over later in the day.
As I resume painting, there is a knock at the door. Who could that be? I haven’t been here long and all my friends who used to live around here have moved to other cities.
Standing there and contemplating who it was would not open the door. I open the door, and the paintbrush drops in a large splatter from my hand.
Damien? Damien Stone?
How is he in Los Angeles? How is he at my doorstep, right in front of me?
“Lea…”
I was so lost in my thoughts that I missed what he said after calling out my name.
“Damien! It’s good to see you.”
“Same here! It’s been such a long while,” he says.
“It has been. I am obviously shocked to see you as well.” I point at the mess my paintbrush had created.
He throws his arms open for an embrace, and I take it all in. The last time we hugged like this was on my graduation day.
When the hug ends, I notice the paint marks from my overalls on his black-and-white checkered shirt and some on his black jogger pants.
His cologne is breathtaking, and I don’t want the scent to disappear. Being a sucker for great fragrances, this one has me in a chokehold.
“Please, come in.”
Damien walks in and shuts the door behind him. Walking into the living room together, I observe him thread his way through the splattered paint on the floor.
Damien is Kelvin’s best friend, and we all grew up together until they both got into Princeton while I got into NYU. We all attended the same schools from kindergarten through high school. None of our family vacations were complete without his family around.
Our parents attended the same college, became friends, and got married. Theirs is one of the most beautiful love stories I have ever heard. Four friends turned into two amazing couples.
It was an unmistakable decision that their kids would be best friends. Technically, Damien and Kelvin were best friends while I was the younger sister.
I had not seen Damien in years, and a lot had truly changed about him.
His gray eyes shine distinctively against the sun. He has developed bulgy muscles and grown taller since I last saw him. His charcoal black hair even had a distinct style, and there was just an aura of confidence around him.
“What are you doing in Los Angeles? I thought you would be on some exotic island, exploring the world. Did Kelvin tell you I was here?”
He chuckles as he responds, “I moved here about a year ago. Kelvin informed me that a house was up for sale next to this one, and I took it. To answer your second question, he didn’t tell me anything. I had even thought he was the one here, not you.”
“I would never have guessed you were the one who lived next door, either. Kelvin did not inform me about that.”
“Very typical of Kelvin to leave out important details. You know how occupied he gets with his first love, the courtroom.”
“Thankfully, we both agree on this one about Kelvin.” My brother always missed out on important details. He always has his mind preoccupied with laws and cases.
“It is nice to see you again, Damien. You did a number on this house. I mean, look at the sun’s reflection on the glass exterior. It’s gorgeous.”
“Well, I got the best hands in the city to get it done. I see you are about to do the same with yours.”
“Off-white is not really my style, so I needed to fix it as soon as possible. Some parts of the wall were already peeling off, anyway. It was inevitable.”
“I can imagine. When I got my house, it wasn’t exactly the most captivating sight. The walls had cracks already, and I knew they needed a total reconstruction. Got my guys to work on it, and it was ready for me to move in within six months.”
As Damien told me more about the renovation process, I stared at the house and pictured the work and resources it must have taken.
My mind cannot help but recall long-lost memories that drown out his voice in my ears.
No one ever realizes the significant effect time has on friendships when they are not in close proximity.
My mind flashes back to when Damien’s pet dog died when we were little. The Golden Retriever had caught the flu from a kennel, where it was left while we went on holiday, and struggled to survive.
He had bawled his eyes out with hopes that a pool of tears would revive Charmer, his pet.
“You don’t have to cry. Charmer knows you loved her.” The 5-year-old me said to him innocently, oblivious to what grief was.
What else could I have said to him? At that time, it was the most sensible thing to say. We all went to bury her together behind his parent’s apartment.
We drafted silly speeches to read out for the late dog, who was not just Damien’s but ours, too.
Twenty years later, Damien was the one comforting my brother and me.
After the accident, he called and sent flowers every other day to ensure we felt his presence. He was absent due to certain restrictions in Africa, where he was attending a business conference.
Each bouquet came with grief notes to sympathize with us. The largest one came on the day of my parents’ burial. He had also sorted out the bills for the bouquet on their tombstones and the reception arrangements.
“What did you do after NYU?”
“I worked at an investment bank for a while. Then, I moved to the compliance and risk management team at an energy company. Now, I’ll be working as an executive assistant in Los Angeles.”
“That’s a lot of experience. You’ve got a brilliant career, and I am so proud of you. Where would you be…”
My phone rings, and it cuts his question short.
“Hi, baby sister.”
“I am twenty-five, Kel. Give me a break.”
“Maybe when you get older than me, I will stop, but that’s never going to happen now, is it? So, I’ll keep calling you ‘baby sister,’ okay?”
I could picture the mischievous smirk on his face.
“Kel, what do you want from me now?”
“I just want to know how you’re settling in and if you have turned our grandparents’ house upside down with your paintings and ridiculous decorations.”
“Oh, stop! You know I do a spectacular job with interior design.”
“Of course you do, and it is clear considering the current state of my home.”
“Guess who’s here, Kel.”
“You know I don’t do too well with guessing.”
“But you do well with hoarding information, don’t you? Damien is here! Why didn’t you tell me he moved to LA? You also didn’t tell me he moved into the house next door.”
“I’m sorry it slipped my mind. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, anyway.”
“Seriously? Not a big deal?”
“Okay, ma’am. I apologize. I hope you two are getting along.” That was a valid concern, as we had always argued about everything when we were younger. Games, food, academic work, chores, jobs, and even the colors of the rainbow. We argued about everything. We were like a cat and dog that shared a living space.
“Well, we both agreed that you can be a jerk. That’s a good sign of getting along, isn’t it?”
Kelvin’s deep laughter takes over the background of the call. I smile, too.
“I’m a jerk, alright. You both still love me despite my jerky-ness.”
“Is that a new legal term? Jerky-ness?”
“Come off it, Lea. The law is dynamic, and so is its language.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Law.”
“You sound like you’re having a good time. We could FaceTime when you’re done. I gotta go now. Tell Damien that I’m waiting for feedback on the contract. He will understand.” He says goodbye as work calls for his urgent attention.
I turn to Damien, who has a massive grin based on what Kelvin had asked.
“You heard what he said, right?”
“Yes. We got the deal, but I won’t tell him yet. That’s his punishment for keeping things from us.”
Things have certainly changed because we just agreed on something else again.
We both laugh as I pick up the paintbrush to continue from where I had stopped.
He asked if he could join me in the painting and reached out for the paintbrush in my hand.
My heart jolts as our hands touch.