Chapter Eight
Allie
The minutes tick by one after another as I wait for Landon to come out of the house.
Sinking further into the seat, I try to keep my face hidden from the view of the nosey neighbors. The last thing I want to do is explain to one of my friends from high school’s mother that my parents are no longer alive and I am here to try to pick up the last remaining pieces of their lives.
It feels like hours later when I watch Landon walk out of the front door and my stomach drops at the look on his face.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I unlock the car and open the door, but as soon as my feet hit the pavement, I stop. All the confidence I just had bubbling inside me to run and see what the glum look on his face is about fades away and I’m stuck.
Landon’s gaze meets mine, and he scans the neighborhood. I don’t know if I should walk over to him or if I should wait for him to come and tell me what the look on his face is for.
I don’t have to wait long for my answer when he hurriedly steps off the porch and crosses the yard towards me in a few strides.
I search his face for a hint of what is going on and I can’t tell.
Fuck. My mind runs through a million theories before it hits me.
I knew it was too good to be true. The asshole couldn’t just ruin my life in every way possible. He had to take away the one piece of my parents I have left.
Landon glances around once more before stepping closer to me. On instinct, I back up until my back hits the car. His eyes go wide and he takes a step back.
Placing his hands in his pockets, in almost a whisper, he says, “I’m sorry. I should have known not to do that. I–I just didn’t want someone to come outside and overhear. I didn’t think…I’m really sorry.”
The look on his face is full of anguish and I want to kick myself for my stupid instinctual reaction. I know he meant nothing threatening by it.
Shaking my head, I cross my arms over my chest, “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I-It’s going to take me a moment to feel safe around…people again. I promise it’s not you.”
Landon stares at me blankly for a moment, then nods. He takes a moment before steeling his spine and standing to his full height. His voice still low, “The house is clear. I checked every inch and there were no cameras or signs of forced entry.” He pauses, and I know the other shoe is about to drop. And I wait with bated breath while he finds the right words to tell me.
“I want you to know something before you go in there. Your parents’ belongings seem to be mostly untouched. But there is one room that took some…uh…damage.”
Damage? If my parents’ belongings and memories were left unscathed, why am I standing here waiting to go inside?
“From what it looks like, the one room that was touched was —-” Landon takes a step back and stares up at the sky.
“Landon. Just tell me. And please talk to me like a person. I can take it. Whatever it is, I’m sure it won’t be anywhere close to what I have already gone through. Please.” The suspense is killing me and I need to know.
Nodding, he quickly regains his composure and returns his gaze to me. “Your room was damaged. It looks like a tornado went through there. I didn’t touch anything so you could assess what is worth saving. I’m really sorry Allie.”
Of course. Of course, this fucking asshole couldn’t just leave me without one final fuck you. I don’t even know what to do or say, so I do what I do with everything that has happened over the past few months. I push it away to the dark depths of my mind and lock it up to deal with later.
My nails dig into my palms, that are in fists down at my side. Taking a deep breath, I steel my spine and say, “Okay. Can I go inside now?” My voice sounding void of emotion.
“Yeah. If it is okay with you, I would like to go with you. I will stay on the porch the entire time, but I want to be within hearing distance if something happens. I promise I won’t get in your way.”
Wanting to get this over with, I nod and make my way to the house.
My foot hesitates for a moment as I raise it to take the steps I have taken hundreds of thousands of times. I push the emotion bubbling in my chest away and walk up to the front door.
Taking one last deep breath, I turn the knob and the smell of home hits me. Tears fill my eyes and I will them to stop. I step over the threshold and glance over my shoulder. Landon is leaning against the white wooden column, his eyes locked on me. He gives me a curt nod and with that, I walk inside, shutting the door slightly.
My feet move on their own as I walk down through the foyer into the open living. Memories flood me instantly as I run my hand along the back of the couch. The soft plush fabric where I spent many nights with my parents watching movies, laughing and crying, and sometimes just existing in the same space, not saying a single word.
I round the couch and I catch a whiff of the pumpkin, butterscotch scented candle sitting on the ottoman. A smile spreads across my face and my mind starts playing tricks on me.
I see Mom and Dad sitting on the couch. Mom’s laughter fills the air as Dad tickles her side. The candle that sits atop the ottoman is burning. In my mind, I’m sitting in the recliner off to the side of the room. I’m watching two people who are the definition of love fall deeper into each other.
A picture hangs on the wall of them dancing on their wedding day. And the memory morphs into Dad moving the tray off the ottoman and tugging Mom to stand atop it. I hear myself yell at them to be careful as Dad tells me to turn the music up.
Music filters through the air and Rascal Flatts’, Bless the Broken Road filters through the room. They hold each other close and I listen as they trade off singing to each other.
My eyes close and I feel their voices sink into my soul. I feel the silent tears cascading down my face. I don’t care. I take it all in. Because in this moment, the pain doesn’t exist and I am here with the two people I love more than life itself.
The song comes to a close and I open my eyes to watch the moment Dad is about to dip Mom, but when I do, the room is empty. And they are gone.
My chest constricts and, just as suspected, the pain is hitting me like a freight train barreling into a brick wall.
My knees wobble, threatening to give out, but I don’t let myself. I can’t. Because if I fall now, I will never get back up.
Using every ounce of strength I have left, I make my way through the rest of the house. Memories of Mom, Dad, and even Logan fill the room.
I make my way up the stairs and smile at the photos lining the wall. They are filled with simpler times. Times where we spent weeks at the beach. Trips to Disney. And as I reach the top, my steps fumble as my eyes land on the last photo.
It’s a picture of Logan and me on graduation day. The smiles on our faces couldn’t be bigger and I am taken back to that moment. We were so happy and didn’t have a care in the world other than passing the state nursing exam.
Little did I know, Logan was shielding me from a darkness no one could have ever seen looming on the horizon.
Taking the last step, I walk through into my parents’ room and my mother’s perfume mixed with my father’s cologne fills my nose. Her signature sweetpea scent mixing in perfect combination with my father’s woodsy cinnamon scent.
For the first time, the pain is too much and I walk out of the room, unable to go any further.
I walk through the rest of the rooms and come to a stop outside of my bedroom door. It is slightly open and my hand pauses on the door.
“You can do this. He isn’t here,” I tell myself.
Pushing open the door, I freeze. I didn’t even stop to think what he could have done when Landon tried to warn me. But now I am regretting not asking more questions because the scene in front of me is…devastating.
The walls, where posters and photos once hung, are hanging off in shreds. My bed looks like he took a knife to the entire thing and tried to make a mosaic with the insides. The lamp on my bedside table is shattered into millions of pieces.
My feet move on their own accord and I walk further into the room.
My closet is open, and every piece of clothing is destroyed. Including my graduation cap and gown.
I spin and get the first look at my vanity, and my heart stops. The collage hanging above sends chills down my spine. Each photo of Logan and I is morphed into some version of a psycho‘s art project.
In some, Logan’s face has a heart on it, while mine has a cigarette burn covering my face. In others, Logan’s face has an X on it and mine has Baby Doll scribbled across my entire body. The only thing remaining untouched are the faces of our friends.
And for the first time, I find the urge to log on to social media and make sure he didn’t involve them in his sick agenda.
Logan and I didn’t have a ton of friends, but the few we had were amazing.
Unable to look at the photos longer, I take a step back and catch a glimpse of myself in the shattered mirror.
I don’t look away this time. I let myself see the person staring back at me through the fractured glass. I let myself see the dark circles and tears streaking my face.
My knees wobble and this time I let myself crumble. I fall to the ground with a loud thud and bring my knees to my chest. I wrap my arms around my knees and bury my face into them.
I beg for the tears to stop, but they don’t.
Why is this happening to me? Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? He didn’t do enough by taking my parents from me? He just had to dig the knife further into my chest, creating an everlasting invisible scar that will never heal.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but footsteps sounding up the stairs catch my attention. I begin to freak out, but the numbness coursing through my body prevents me from doing so.
What’s the point?
“Allie. It’s Landon. I’m sorry I know I said I wouldn’t come inside, but we have a slight problem.”
Picking my head up from my knees, I turn my head to see him standing in the doorway. The look on his face is full of sadness and sympathy.
I want to tell him I’m fine, but the truth is, I’m not. He can see that. So what’s the point of lying and wasting words that hold no meaning?
I can tell he is trying to figure out what to say. He opens his mouth to speak several times, but the words die on his lips. I can see the moment he decides there isn’t a right thing to say.
“I got an alert that a neighbor posted on the Neighborhood Watch pages that there was an unknown car outside the Evans’ house. A few of them came outside while I was standing on the porch and I stepped inside the door before they could come over and talk to me.”
Not surprising. No one in this neighborhood knows how to mind their business.
He continues, “I watched from the window as a few of them started making their way to the house across the street. I know the last thing you want to deal with is nosy ass neighbors that don’t know how to mind their fucking business. And I don’t want to interrupt what you are doing here, but I think it’s best we head out for now. We can come back tomorrow or in a few days. Or I can send someone to pack the house up and deliver everything to Cliff Haven within a week or two. I’ll do whatever you decide, but unless you want to watch me cuss one of them out for sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong, I suggest we leave soon.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand. He’s right. I have no desire to talk to any of them right now. Or ever.
My eyes scan the room and anger fills me again.
I make my way to the window overlooking the backyard. The hammock swings in the wind and memories begin filling my mind again. But I stop them. I can’t handle anymore.
Without turning around, I keep my eyes locked on the backyard. “Pack it up. I don’t care what they do with this room, but I don’t want all of their memories to go to waste. Even if they stay in boxes for the rest of time.”
Turning around, I lock eyes with Landon’s ocean blues and he nods. He moves out of the way and lets me head down the stairs first. As I go to reach for the front door, he stops me.
“Allie, wait. If you want to avoid them, do you mind if I pull the car into the garage so you can get in without them seeing you?”
I nod. I need to get out of here before the memories and the realization of my parents truly being gone hits me harder than it already has.