2. Zeth #3
Beside the bed sat a dresser Mum used for her clothes.
I doubted anything remained. Still, I opened a few drawers to check.
Each one stuck, because of course nothing would be easy.
I set my feet and pulled until a heavy tug did the trick.
Each drawer squealed open, all empty. Thankfully, no nasty bugs either.
We didn’t need the dresser, so it could be sold immediately. That was a month’s worth of food. Mum would understand.
Just then, rain pattered against the shutters with a gust of wind that sounded like it blew into the upper floor.
A storm was certainly here. Thankfully, the glass and walls appeared solid against the rain, as was the ceiling.
The apartment was deserted, yet nothing seemed too far gone. Nothing a good cleaning couldn’t fix.
I strolled past Millie to peep into the only other doorway upstairs and braced myself to see our old bedroom and kitchen.
A flash of lightning drew my gaze to the shattered hole in the window.
Thunder boomed through it. At least the narrow alley walls blocked the rain from entering, leaving the floorboards dry.
However, the cupboards hung precariously off their hinges, their doors all opened.
One cabinet looked ready to fall off the wall, while another one held twigs and leaves.
When I walked over to inspect it, I realized the twigs were part of a larger pile of leaves. A nest? I shivered and ignored it.
The rest of the room was stripped bare except for an old iron oven.
Gone were our bed and baskets. Gone was the desk with the built-in chair I had stolen from school on a dare.
There weren’t any marks on the walls from our wrestling fights, and I didn’t even sense the hunger or frustrations that had plagued me in childhood.
No proof remained that we grew up here. Everything was… empty.
The only thing on the floor was a pile of plaster. Plaster that came from… I didn’t want to look up, but I did… yes, the ceiling. From a large crack. It ran across half the room. And if the nasty stain was any indication, water was leaking in.
My shoulders tightened, and I ran a hand through my hair to slow my disappointment. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.
Debris crunched under my boots as I tried to find a hole opening directly to the rainy sky.
I didn’t see any holes. Only the crack. How do you fix a ceiling?
How much does that cost? Was one dresser with stuck drawers enough to hire a roofer?
Then there was the broken window, the warped door, and the paint-chipped door out front that also needed repairing to make this place presentable again. So much for food. Fuck, I was hungry.
Thunder clapped louder this time, and I closed my eyes against the tumble in my head.
Emotions rushed out anyway—despair, guilt, regret, frustration, resentment, fear—heaven help me.
It all lodged in my throat, choking me. Most of all, anger.
What did I do wrong? How was this my life?
Why was a run-down building my inheritance?
I knew I should be grateful to have this, but I didn’t want a failed laundry.
I wanted my family back. I wanted a thriving business, a big house and a comfortable life that came with a promising future.
I wanted to receive social invitations to picnics in the postmail, my own pew at the chapel, and a wife on my arm who made people jealous.
Fancy clothes. Boring hobbies. Maybe a rocking chair where I can sit and grow old.
And a cat for my lap. Not an alley cat, but one from a store with fluffy soft fur and a pretty pink ribbon around its neck.
A tender hand rubbed my arm, and Millie’s skirts rustled before she spoke. “It’ll be fine. I’ll assist in cleaning our place up.”
Our place?
I wanted to curse at the reminder of what we owned. Instead, I clenched my jaw fiercely to hold everything in. A few ragged breaths through my nose later, I managed to pop open a single eye without crying, so I squinted at Millie with a tub full of doubt.
“You consoling me?” I huffed. “What’s this? Are you actually acting like a lady now?”
“Perhaps.”
That had my other eye popping open, and I scowled at her. “Perhaps? Mils, you hate cleaning, and washing, and cooking, and anything of that sort. You complained endlessly about it in the City.”
“True… but I still did it. Keeping house was better than sitting around bored while you and Mum worked, and I’ll do the same here,” she declared with a determined nod that bounced her curls.
Then she observed the crack. “And that damage isn’t so bad.
A little elbow grease is all we need. Where there’s a Washer, there’s a way, isn’t that right? ”
“That’s what Mum always said,” I sighed heavily in agreement before pulling her in tight to kiss her cheek.
She was as warm and squishy as always, and her strong arms felt wonderful as she squeezed the tension out of my chest. Maybe she squeezed a little too tight, but that made it feel like perhaps everything would be alright.
We had a plan, and most importantly, we had each other. Plus, Millie certainly had the gumption to make our dreams come true.
She preened. “Just you wait and see, we’ll make this place into a home again, and I’ll be the perfect lady. A right proper miss.”
Fate chose that moment to send a fat drop of water to plop right onto Millie’s cute nose from the crack in the ceiling. She blinked and sputtered, then my newly reformed sister exclaimed more vehemently than any well-seasoned sailor, “Well, shit.”