Trent looks my way from behind Frank and we lock eyes for a moment before he returns his gaze to his dad. “…It won’t happen again.”
“Just keep an eye out for him till I get back. I don’t want him causing any trouble. You know how rowdy he can get.”
“Yeah, I know, dad.” It would be so much easier to occupy myself with my phone rather than watch Frank yell at his kids. Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury available to me.
“Okay you two,” Frank says after turning his attention back towards us. “I’m heading off to work.” Trent and Nathan leave and I hear the door shut to one of the rooms. “Like I said before, lunch will be ready in a bit. I’ll let Helen know to get you when it’s ready.”
“Okay, thanks,” Valerie responds.
“All right. Take care.” Frank backs away from our door and gently shuts it from the outside, giving us our privacy. I stare at Valerie with scrunched brows and she shakes her head apathetically.
“What was that all about?” Valerie asks, her voice no higher than a whisper.
“I don’t know. It seems like good ole’ Frank has some issues when it comes to policing his children. Dude is rough.”
“Yeah. I don’t get it. Nathan wasn’t causing any harm or being disruptive. We were just watching TV. I mean, yeah, he did try to wake you, but that was petty. You were just taking a nap.”
“He was like that when I bumped into Nathan last night…super strict when it comes to him. He’s just a baby, but what do I know? I have yet to raise a kid. You do have to tell them something like, a bajillion times before they get the picture. Maybe they had a rough week. He could have flushed his watch down the toilet or something.”
“I don’t know. He’s the same way with the other one.”
“Yeah, I’ve been getting that, too. He’s just rough. Not all families are the same.” I shrug. “It sucks, but we can’t confront him based off a couple incidents from a two day stay. We barely know the man. I’m sure he loves them, he just doesn’t tolerate B.S. He’s from that old, iron-casted parenting crowd. People went off to wars and stuff. Boys couldn’t cry, blah blah blah. It’s ludicrous how guys still think like that.”
“If he had a pair of girls, his heart would be a puddle by now.”
“Ha. No doubt. He’d been done for.”
Valerie reaches for the remote and flips it back to the paranormal show she’s been watching all day. Apparently, it’s running a marathon. We jumped into the episode already on pretty late, but it looks like they’re staking the night out in order to see if they can find something once the area is more abandoned. There is some truth to that, but it’s complicated. The ghost or whatever is attracted to a special flower for some reason that blooms seasonally, so if you have one pinned over your heart or something, it’s an invitation for her to visit you, which of course is crazy. The hotel with the alleged sightings was commercializing it, but then after a rapid series of sightings, things got real. Scratches, hallucinations, shadows…pretty much everything pointing to you getting involved with stuff you’re not ready to handle. People were starting to get scared, so much so that they were starting to lose business. If you ask me, it serves them right. They stuck their nose where it didn’t belong and tried to get a few bucks while they were at it. That is, assuming if whatever is happening isn’t just one big publicity stunt. After about ten minutes of watching people tell their amnesia-ridden stories, I decide that I’ve had enough.
“You really like this kind of thing, huh?” I ask Valerie.
“Well, I mean, yeah. It’s interesting. There’s a ton of stuff out there that we don’t know about, don’t you agree?”
“…Yeah, but—” A series of light taps echo against our door, and it slowly pushes open. Helen, and with perfect timing.
“Hey girls, sorry to interrupt, but lunch is ready. Just thought I’d let you know before the boys get at it.”
“Yeah, the boys…thanks.” Helen doesn’t move, but instead waits at the door frame, her hand firmly gripping the edge of the door with her head peeking out from behind it. “Ready, Val?”
“Yeah.” Valerie turns off the TV, and together we follow Helen downstairs. If I would have known any better, it wasn’t so much a request, but a soft-spoken demand.
“It isn’t anything special, just spaghetti,” Helen says as she guides us to the kitchen. Once we’re there, Helen walks us to the counter where a bowl of noodles and a tong rest next to a pot. “Everything is already set up. Help yourselves.” Without saying another word, she slips past us, opens her fridge, and grabs a pitcher filled to the brim with water. “This all right?” She raises the pitcher of water at eye level before setting it out.
“It’s fine,” I answer for the both of us. “Thanks.” I smile and begin to make my plate.
“Let me know how it tastes!” Helen says from behind me.
I glance over my shoulder to respond. “For sure. Definitely. Italian is my favorite kind of food.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yup,” I say, refocusing on my meal prep.
“Do you have any Italian in your family or anything?”
“Not that I know of. I just love how it tastes.” I place my food on the table adjacent to the pre-laid silverware Helen had put out before.
“Is that so? I almost wish I would have made some garlic bread for you then, sweetie. We’ve been cutting back on the carbs around here. You see how Frank and I look. There’s a reason those are wheat noodles.”
“Oh, come on now. You don’t have to say it like that.”
“We don’t want Trent or Nathan getting big, so we’re making a change as a family. You two are fit…keep that up. Seriously. It’ll save you a bunch of trouble in the long run. It’s way easier to keep it off than to blow up and try to lose it. Although in the end, time always manages to catch up with us.”
You’re preaching to the choir. It’s that same realization that got me here in the first place.
“Sure does,” Valerie says as she sits down next to me. “That’s why I try to make the most of everyday. You can’t spend your time wishing. You have to get up, get out, and do what you have to do till you can’t do it anymore.”
Words of wisdom while eating spaghetti. I smirk and glance her way just as she takes her first bite. Sounds like the title of a self-help book written by a hipster.
Not long into our meal, Trent and Nathan come downstairs and sit at the table. They don’t say much of anything but instead wait patiently for their mom to serve them their food. Hopefully, it doesn’t break out into a scene while we’re around. They’ve been policing Nathan since we got here and saucy noodles and children don’t exactly mix. I watch on the edge of my seat as they get served. Thankfully, nothing happens.
“It’s a shame that things panned out the way they did,” Helen says after taking her seat. She combs through the noodles, carefully distributing it as easily as she can to the rest of her dish. “Frank and I traveled a lot back in the day. We used to check out cities from time to time just to see what’s up, you know? Things that you’re supposed to see according to travel writers or TV Personalities.”
“Even with the business running?” I ask.
“I like that about you, you’re inquisitive. Quite the detective,” she responds while picking at her food. “You’re not going to get me to reveal just how old I am, but I will tell you this…there was a time when Frank and I had no children. Cover your ears, boys,” she says as she leans in. “It was a simpler time.” Helen laughs.
“Where did you guys travel?” Valerie asks.
“A couple places around the states, mainly. We spent a couple of nights in some spectacular spots. New York, Seattle, New Orleans, Denver…places with some hint of culture. City living was good for us while we were on vacation, but rural life always had a special spot in both of our hearts. You feel so small out there. Our neighbors could be miles apart, and we’d still feel more connected.”
“It’s nature, right?”
I twist my fork, locking in a strand of noodles and go for a quick bite.
“Something like that… the clean air is amazing, though. You don’t take it for granted if you ever been to the areas where there’s a lot of air pollution.”
“Like California?” Valerie asks.
“Yes, but anywhere where there’s a bunch of chemical plants or a huge city population. Lawsuits seem to be popping up everywhere these days. Air quality used to not really be a concern back in the day.”
“So, where else have you traveled? Anywhere cool, like Paris?”
“New York isn’t cool enough for you?” Helen smiles at Valerie. “My, how time flies…hmm. Well, we traveled to Brazil once. Wasn’t my cup of tea.”
“But the beach!”
“The beaches were nice.” Helen shrugs. “But after you spend a couple hours over there, there really isn’t any point. I don’t know. It could just be because I’m jaded. Don’t tell Frank I said this, but he’s a homebody. He’ll travel if he has to, but I’m one hundred percent certain that he took that trip because of me. He’d rather stay at home and save money. I guess in a way it rubbed off on me.”
Trent scoffs and I glance his way. After our eyes meet, he tilts his chin down and directs his gaze towards his food.
“At least you got it out the way. They say you should do your traveling while you still have the freedom,” I add.
“Yeah, that is true.” Helen nods and sips from her glass. “So, where have you been?”
“A bunch of spots, but for little things. Not so much family time vacations. My family, when they were around, weren’t exactly in the spot to travel that often. I had a decent childhood, but going to a theme park based off of cartoons wasn’t at the top of their list. Most of my travel came about recently…as in the past couple years in my life. To make a long story short, I’d have to say the coolest spot I’ve been to is New Orleans. Definitely lives up to its reputation, by all means.”
“Oh, really? The violence or the tourist attractions?”
“The culture,” I respond flatly. “Violence is everywhere, unfortunately. It sucks. It’s hard to watch the news, wherever you are. You don’t know how good you have it until the latest tragedy strikes.”
“I agree. It’s sad how that always seems to be the case. What about you, Valerie? Much of a traveler?”
“Working on it. I would have been well on my way if things didn’t turn out the way they did.”
“Oh, I see.”
“No complaints, though. It would have been a nightmare if you guys wouldn’t have taken us in. We really appreciate it. What are the odds that we’d be taken up by cooks?”
“Well just about everyone can cook, sweetie.” Helen pauses. “Actually, I take that back. In the city, it’s a bit rarer than out here. I don’t know if you guys are single or what, but make sure you find you a man who can cook.”
“If that’s the goal, I have to step my game up and hang around culinary schools or take a class. Cooking is becoming a lost art. If you live on campus, the cafeteria is only a couple minutes away, and if it’s closed, the nearest burger joint isn’t too far. I’m guilty one hundred times over, but I do know my way around the kitchen more than your average twenty-something…I think.”
“Having a few go-to meals definitely will earn you a couple points. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t appreciate a home cooked meal.” Trent grunts and shakes his head. “Trent here doesn’t like that we’re talking about dating.” Helen chuckles as she pokes around at her noodles.
“You’ll get thrown into the game soon enough, and when you do, you’ll be glad you sat in on this conversation,” I add.
“Whatever.”
Valerie, Helen, and I continue to talk about guys just out of sheer enjoyment of seeing Trent squirm. We covered high school dances, dating etiquette, crushes…light things, all for the sake of teasing. We even asked him if he had his eye on a special someone of his own. Of course, he tried his best to dodge the question. His face did turn red, which was funny. He took it like a champ, though. Having older people pry into your social life is virtually a rite of passage.
After we had our fun, we finished up lunch relatively quickly. Val volunteered both of us to do the dishes, but Helen refused our services. Any time either one of us tries to lighten the load, they take it upon themselves to iron things out. Living with them is like borderline staying at a bed and breakfast. The only thing we’re allowed to do is be lazy, it’s nice, but it’s low-key driving me insane. I don’t do lazy. Never have and never will. My mind’s always racing, because, well, life is short. Especially now.
****
“Oh my gosh, I’m stuffed,” Valerie proclaims as she plops down head-first onto the bed. “Eating like this is something I can get used to.” She rolls over lethargically and rubs her belly while I stand in the doorway, amused by her mannerisms.
“Really?” I scoff. “Well, you have one more to go, make the best of it. Frank said we’re going to be having dinner before he sends us off, remember?” I say as I move towards my usual spot. “When’s the last time you had a home cooked meal? It couldn’t have been that long ago, huh?”
“I get them all the time, but never by chefs. This place is paradise. Come on, you got to admit, it’s nice.”
“Yeah, if you say so.” I hike up one of my knees and use it as a prop for my elbow. “More TV?” The question was rhetorical. The TV flicks on, and we’re greeted with another healthy dose of cheap thrills and propaganda. Within seconds Valerie finds something that she’s into and dives in. “…How can you be so chill? You’re cool with being out here?”
“Cool?” Val rolls over on the bed and lands on her stomach. “I mean, yeah…in a way, but not really. I’d rather be elsewhere, but I’m not. I’m making the best of a bad situation. We’re going to have to make some adjustments for the trip, sure, but I can’t do anything about it. The towers are still crapped out from the storm.”
“And they don’t have Wi-Fi or a computer of any kind…which is odd by the way. I don’t know how they do it.”
“Well, they obviously are and they’re closer because of it. Don’t be so doom and gloom. You act like you haven’t smiled since you’ve been here, which is clearly not the case. Everything’s going to work out. I’d rather be at a beach or something, but it looks like that’s not going to happen. I’m making the best out of what we’ve got. What happened sucks, but we’ve got a cool mechanic-chef dude on the job. Chill out. Enjoy the moment while you can. We’re lucky if anything. If your car broke down while we were on the interstate, things could have ended badly. It was raining and everything.”
“Right…yeah. I’d be more than just a busted belt. Going seventy in the rain while speeding would have made for quite the disaster.” I frown.
“Exactly. So, in a way, it was good that things happened the way they did. A miracle, even. There’s always a silver lining if you look for it,” she says to me as she taps the side of her temple with a smile.
“Sure,” I respond. “I guess that’s a somewhat accurate statement. I tend to believe that things happen because they happen, but that’s just me.”
“And countless others. You can’t just focus on what’s bad. That’s dumb. Acknowledge it, be realistic, but get it out of your head. If you don’t, you’ll blind yourself and miss out on something nice.”
“Maybe so.”
After I said that, our conversation abruptly stopped. I can tell she was kinda pissed, but not so much that she couldn’t stand to be in the room with me. I have been gloomy, but in my mind, it’s somewhat justifiable. It’s like when you get really bad news, but try to shrug it off. You can, but there’s still that lump of coal in your stomach that always manages to pop up whenever you’re not occupied with whatever life throws at you. In my case, that lump is a demon breathing down my neck with my soul on the line and all life has to offer at the moment is free food, TV, and bittersweet reminders of what it means to be happy…normal.
Something that I desperately want.
Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I can recall a time when I was truly happy. There was always something missing in my life. Dad had his issues…and after mom died, normal wasn’t even a remote possibility.
The TV ends up on some station about a slew of women arguing about nothing…one of those reality TV shows. I gaze at it passively, just enough to put some distance between me and the mental agony of my impending doom and lack of options. I want to live, but I don’t know how. I’m not ready to go just yet.
“Hey, Val?” I ask after stomaching about two hours’ worth of TV.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to go out for a bit. Nothing personal, I just hate sitting still for too long.”
“Did you want to watch something or—?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m fine. Just bored.” I use my hands as leverage as I stand to my feet. “What is this, like, the fourth episode? I’m actually starting to slightly care how her party turns out.”
“Well, it is supposed to be the party of the year.”
“Please. Victoria is only saying that because Monique keeps parading around like she’s the best thing since the Internet. It’s ridiculous. A cool party won’t bring her family back together, and her ex-fiancé left her for a reason. Why is he still on the show, anyway?”
“…Contract, maybe?”
“Oh, shit. See what I mean? …Yeah, I’m going to go stretch my legs.”
“Language... They’re kids around.”
“Right. My bad, I’ll be better next time,” I say as I leave our room, shut the door behind me, and head downstairs.
“Going somewhere?” Helen asks, stopping me just as my hands touch the knob to the front door. I turn around and watch her approach me, a white towel swishing between her hands as she cleans them.
Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie (The Pact Book 3) Page 10
