Loving Sofia

by Alina Man

  I start the engine then take a long last look at her new home before driving away. The rain is thick and heavy and it reminds me of when I was little, my nana used to tell me that the angels were probably crying or doing laundry and that’s why there was water coming from the sky. At that age I never even considered questioning her theory and loved watching the rain from my bedroom window. I could stare at the sky for hours trying to see if I could catch a glimpse of an angel or two. It was a childish thing to do but it always put a smile on my face. Everywhere I look has a memory attached to it and in each and every one of them I see my nana. The pain is reaching deeper and deeper pushing hard on top of my heart.

  I try not to think about the phone call because today is not about him. For three years it’s been only about him, I’ve just been too blind to realize it. I pull in the old driveway of my grandparents’ house and turn off the engine but I can’t get myself to move out of the car. Maybe if I close my eyes and wait a minute or two, everything will go back to normal and I will wake up from this bad dream. If only life worked that way.

  I grab my bag and dash for the front door trying to escape the large raindrops but still manage to get drenched from head to toe. The thin dress is soaked and pasted to my skin making me shiver as I fumble with the key. I open the door and walk into the large foyer I don’t know what to expect so I just sit there for a second and wait. I know I’m acting like a crazy person but I can’t help it. I feel like I’ve been abducted by aliens and I no longer have control of my body.

  I drop my bag and leave the shoes behind by the door not wanting to make a mess on the shiny hardwood floors my nana was so proud of. She loved everything in this house and took really good care of it. She used to say that the way you keep your house can tell others what kind of person you are inside. I never really understood what that meant but I didn’t disagree with her either.

  Every room in the house is still the same as it was before I left for college, like a time capsule waiting to be discovered, and I try to look for a sliver of proof that she’s gone yet I find none. It’s as if time stood still and I don’t think I want to move forward anyway. I just want to sit here and remember everything about her. I’m scared that if I let life go back to normal I will start to forget things, forget the smell of her perfume, the sound of her voice, the aroma of her cooking. So I sit still, my eyes closed, picturing her rolling out the dough for the noodles, smiling and telling me stories about her life before she moved to America.

  The lights aren’t working and I use the light from my cell to find my way into the living room. I know there are candles somewhere because she loved to light them on nights such as this one. I light up the large pillar candle on the coffee table and immediately the room is immersed in a warm glow. I shiver from the cold and say a small thank you prayer when I find the fireplace all set up and ready to be turned on. The room is fairly small and within minutes it starts to feel warmer. With my small amount of luggage still in the car and the lights out in the house, I am forced to keep the damp dress on for now. I pull the big chair closer to the fire then wrap myself in the throw I find on the back of it. Before I know it my eyes get heavy and I find myself drifting in and out of sleep before I’m surrounded by complete darkness.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep but the sky is dark and the fire in the fireplace is almost out. I get up and try to turn on the lights but nothing happens. There’s so much quiet around me making me uneasy and hearing things that are not there. Maybe this was a bad idea; me staying here all alone on the day of her burial. The loud knock on the door makes me jump out of my skin. I walk slowly towards the front to check the peephole but all I see is darkness.

  “Hello? Anybody home,” a man’s voice asks from the other side of the door.

  I don’t recognize the voice, so I push away from the door. Maybe they’ll leave if I don’t say anything. I’m about to walk away when whoever is outside starts unlocking the door. Instantly panic takes over and I start looking around for anything that could be used as a weapon. The large black umbrella by the door is the only thing I find and I grab it with both hands. I’m holding onto it for dear life, ready to use it just as the door opens wide and a large figure makes its way inside.

  “Stay right there! Don’t come any closer!” I yell at the intruder.

  “I won’t just don’t hit me, ok? I’m a friend of Sonia’s.”

  He turns on a small flashlight and pulls off the hat he’s wearing and I can see his face now. He looks kind of familiar I just can’t say where I’ve seen him before. I stare at him for a moment when it hits me.

  “You were at the funeral, weren’t you,” I ask him but still keep the umbrella up high ready to make my move.

  “Yes I was. I saw your car in the driveway and wanted to come by and make sure you’re ok. The lights have been out for a while because of the storm and usually they will stay out until morning.”

  I don’t say anything and it looks like he is not planning to leave anytime soon. I’m about to ask him to do so but he just keeps on talking and I’m not sure what to do next because the alien that took over my body is obviously as confused as I am.

  “I’m Noah by the way; I live across the street.”

  I remember my nana telling me about her neighbor, Noah. She mentioned him several times in the hope that I would go out with him if things didn’t work out with Joe. Gosh nana, what were you thinking?

  “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. I’m Brenda,” I finally say and put down the umbrella before offering my hand.

  He takes it and gives it a small shake. “I know your name. I told you I’ll never forget it,” he says with a smile and makes me wonder just what exactly does he mean by that. His palms are callused, nothing like Joe’s, and immediately I wonder what kind of work he does. Let’s just hope he’s not some serial killer.

  “Would you like some tea? That’s all I can manage without burning down the house,” I ask and instantly wonder if it was wise to have him in the house at this hour.

  “Tea sounds great actually.”

  We move together towards the kitchen and for some strange reason I feel very comfortable around this stranger. Not sure if this is the real me talking but for the first time tonight I feel ok. I put the kettle on the stove and start looking around for mugs, tea bags, and sugar, and come up empty handed. I feel another pang in my heart for not paying more attention to the small things while she was alive. All the small things I took for granted and I could no longer have. The stranger points me in the right direction, more at home around the large kitchen than I ever was.

  “You sure know your way around here,” I say sarcastically.

  “I should since I spent a lot of time in this room, especially in the last few months,” he laughs and it brightens up his whole face.

  As we wait for the tea to cool down a bit, I take a moment to really look at this intruder. He has really dark hair, longer than what I usually like, large eyes the color of dark chocolate surrounded by the most amazing set of eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a guy. He also has a beautiful mouth that seems to constantly smile. I guess he is good looking in a rugged way, not that I care. He lights a few more candles and as I place the tea in front of him I notice the piercing in his eyebrow. I’ve never been a fan of piercings on a guy but for some reason it only adds to his appeal. He towers over me, with large broad shoulders, and the left side his neck has some type of tattoo peaking from his thermal shirt.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t jump back on an airplane after the funeral. It’s been what, three years since you came back,” he says and stirs the tea around.

  “How would you know that? Are you like the attendance police? I didn’t know I had to report to you each time I came over to see her. I have a very busy schedule but I called every day,” I say defensively.

  “Wow slow down princess, I didn’t mean anything by it. You know she missed you an awful lot, don’t you?”

  “Yes I know she did, and don
’t call me princess.”

  Just that simple nickname brings back another memory of nana. It’s my seventh birthday and grandpa got me a life size princess doll, dressed in a long pink gown. She has a beautiful tiara on a mass of curls, and shiny crystal clear slippers on her tiny feet. I walked around the house with her tiara and talked with a fake English accent, ordering my nana and papa around like a real princess would. Those were the good simple times when I didn’t know what the real world was like, when my only worry was that I wouldn’t get to have ice cream if I wasn’t good. Any kind of pain could be taken away with nana’s kisses. Noah places his cup back on the table, the noise making my memory nothing but a shadow flowing in the wind.

  “Well thank you for the tea but I better go and let you get some sleep. There are some things I need to talk to you about but they can wait until tomorrow.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Did Sonia tell you anything about a letter?”

  “No she didn’t.”

  “She left you a letter but not with me. She said that once you found it, you’ll need a friend more than ever. I swear those were her exact words. Kind of like a game, if you will. I had to promise her that I will follow all the rules and unfortunately I can’t give you more information. Not because I don’t want to, but I just don’t know much about it either.”

  I stare at him bewildered and realize that even though she’s gone, my nana is still trying to be a matchmaker.

  “I don’t know what to say. I’ll need a friend so she picked you? I guess that’s the normal thing to do since I’m so pathetic and do not have any friends of my own,” I say sarcastically.

  “Look, don’t think about it tonight. I’m sure today was not easy for you. Just get some rest and I’ll stop by tomorrow morning before I head into work and we can talk some more.”

  Then just as he starts to move towards the foyer I grab his arm and stop him. “I will take that spare key if you don’t mind.”

  He simply shakes his head at my request but hands me the key just the same. “There you go princess. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, the intruder’s gone, and I’m once again left alone in silence.

  I walk back into the kitchen and blow out the candles, keeping one to help me find my way around the house. The old floors squeak as I walk from kitchen to living room and I feel little goose bumps all over my body. Grow up, I urge myself. There’s nothing here so no reason to be a baby about it. I blow out the pillar candle the only light now coming from the dying fire and the small candle I’m still holding. The wind is picking up making the long branches of the old cherry tree outside hit the windows softly, filling the room with dancing shadows. Telling myself to be strong, I pick up my cell and move across the hall, to my old room.

  I lock the door behind me, and sit on my old full size bed. Nothing was changed in this room either and yet everything was. My bed was still in the same spot, covered in my old purple bedspread, the same nightstand and tiffany style lamp, the same pictures on the wall. And yet it felt so strange to be here without her. How many nights did I sit in this very spot, my head on her lap, asking her all kinds of questions? Not once did she tire of answering any of them. I lock away the memories for now and let my mind go blank, and eventually sleep takes over.

  Morning comes before I know it and it takes me a while to realize that I’m in my old bed. It’s no longer raining but the house feels cold and dark, and I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the weather. I put my old chenille robe on over my dress to try and warm myself up and then make my way into the kitchen for some tea. While the water is boiling, I look at my cell phone with mixed feelings. There are no missed calls or texts from Joe. I know we’ve been having problems ever since my nana got sick but you would think that if someone loved you they would be there for you in such hard times. I guess that should answer my question about our relationship.

  Nana used to say that being comfortable in a relationship is worse than being in love. When you’re comfortable you decide to look the other way when things go wrong and neither one wants to make a change, whether it’s for the better or for the worse. So far I say she was right on the money on pretty much everything. Both Joe and I have very busy work schedules and while we live together, we have very separate lives. Sometimes I wonder if maybe we decided to move in together out of convenience more than anything else.

  I put a tea bag in my cup and cover it with the boiling water, honey and lemon, just the way my nana showed me so many times before. I’m about to move to the living room when someone knocks on the door. This time I’m able to see through the peephole and I’m surprised to see the “intruder” once again.

  “Good morning princess, nice robe you got there.”

  “Good morning to you too. Seriously no more princess calling or you’ll force me to find you a nick name and trust me when I say that I have a great imagination.

  “My apologies,” he smirks.

  “Oh never mind. I don’t have any coffee but there’s tea if you want some. Let’s get this game thing started and over with.”

  “Are you that excited to spend some time with me?” Noah asks and while I know he’s just kidding, I still feel my whole face suddenly growing hot.

  “Not really, I just want to find out where this letter is,” I reply nonchalantly.

  “You’re not very good at lying are you? Ok so here’s what I know. A few months ago Sonia met with her lawyer and for whatever reason unknown to me she wanted me there with her. There’s a will but he cannot read it to you until you find the letter she left you and follow all the instructions. I have no idea what or where this letter is.”

  I sit back watching him and I wonder if I’m being punked. I must be because there’s no way my grandma, my sweet nana, would play such a trick on me.

  “Look, Noah, are you sure my grandma was lucid when she told you all this? I mean how long ago did you talk to her about this?”

  “Look Brenda,” he mocks me, “how can you even ask me such an idiotic question? Sonia was in better shape than most people her age and there was never a time when she was not fully aware of what was going on. She did all of this for you because she knew you were not happy, no matter how much you want people to believe you live in a perfect world with your perfect boyfriend and your perfect job. So how about I come back later when you are lucid so I can keep my promise to my friend.”

  I’m stunned by his words. Stunned, but deep inside I know he’s right. I feel so overwhelmed by it all and scared at the same time. I can’t find my voice to say more, and Noah decides that our conversation is over. As he pushes his way out of his chair, I finally speak.

  “Stay,” I say loud enough so he can hear me. “I’m sorry. Please stay.” He stares at me for what seems like an eternity, but eventually sits back in his chair.

  “Look I know this all sounds crazy, trust me, I even told Sonia that you would have a hard time with it all, but she thought this was the best thing she could do for you.”

  “I understand. So where is the letter?”

  “I told you I don’t know. She said you’ll be able to find it when the time is right.” His phone rings and I welcome the distraction, yet instead of answering he simply turns the ringer off. “I have to go to work but I’ll be around this evening if you need anything. Oh and before I forget, you don’t have to worry about the utilities being shut off; her lawyer is in charge of paying the bills for the next six months.”

  I walk him to the door and we say goodbye for a second time in less than twenty four hours and once again I’m all alone, millions of unanswered questions running through my head. I take my cup to the kitchen, my tea cold and still untouched, all the while trying to come up with an action plan. The compulsive part of me needs a plan for everything; that’s how I programmed myself to function for the past three years. The past three years I’ve spent with Joe. Three whole years I avoided coming home just so Joe wouldn’t feel neglected. Three whole years I pretty much
neglected the one person who sacrificed everything for me. The truth pains me and fills me with guilt because I know I used every excuse in the book to stay away and put my happiness aside in order to keep Joe’s happiness alive.

  Chapter 2.

  I grew up in this house, in a small town called Rockford, and for the first 17 years I never went anywhere outside the town’s limits. My mother had a long battle with cancer and passed away when I was two; just a month before my fifth birthday, my father was killed in a car accident. I was too young to remember my mother but to this day I still think of my dad. As close as we were, the grief I felt when he passed was nothing like what I feel today for my nana.

  Looking back I can now see all the sacrifices my grandparents had to make when they took me in. The one thing that stands out the most is how they saved every penny for my education and never asked for anything in return. Even when my visits got to be few and far between they still did not complain or question my lame excuses.

  All through high school I was a model student and the perfect child that anyone would ask for. I was not a follower and because of that I did not get in any trouble, did not try to smoke, or drink, and couldn’t even imagine experimenting with drugs. When the time came to apply for colleges, my grandparents wanted me to stay close to home but for once I went against their wishes and applied to Boston University. The day the letter came in the mail I thought my heart would burst with happiness and yet my nana could not stop crying. It’s as if she knew the big city would change me forever. No matter how many times I promised her that things would stay the same she knew better; she would just pat my cheek, smile and say that all she wanted was for me to be happy. Subconsciously, I lift my hand and touch my cheek and for a moment I can still feel her warm fingers lingering there. If I could go back in time I know I wouldn’t leave, I know I would stay as close to them as I could and never miss another chance to let them know just what they meant to me.