Remember This✔

Chapter Fifty-One

Two Months Later

"Is it this one?" Charlie asks her softly as he points to the white, large house with brown window frames.

"Yeah," she says. "It's that one."

Charlie pulls the car into the driveway and Molly stares at the porch swing that her father built with his bare hands. She was his helper; she held the tools that he asked for and passed them to him enthusiastically. It's grayer than she remembers, time has added rust and mold. She looks around the front lawn, the grass is overgrown and the weeds have formed some kind of nest that cover most of the fence. Molly opens the letterbox and she removes a giant pile of letters. Most of them are addressed to her parents, there's a few for Savannah.

"Do you want me to put them in my car?" Charlie says.

Molly nods, passing him the pile. She looks around the neighbourhood. Everything is familiar. Across the street she sees a teenage boy mowing the lawn. Peter, her first boyfriend, turns the mower off and puts a hand above his eyes as he stares at her. He shouts something behind him and his parents coming running out. His mother was Molly's mother's best friend, their families were close. The woman puts a hand to her chest and waves to Molly. She waves back slowly.

Molly turns around and takes a deep breath. She takes Charlie's hand and they walk towards the house together. They've just been to see her parents' solicitor and she had signed the deeds to the house. She also received a large sum of inheritance money and extra from the sale of their cars. She has enough money to go to college if she wished and buy an apartment in the city. The house is the last piece of the puzzle and she's almost ready to let it go.

She turns the key in the lock and pushes it open. She freezes in the doorway, unable to take a step further. She stares at the shoe rack on the ground, full of rows of shoes, all sizes, all kinds, all colours. Her father's jacket is still hanging from the wall and she reaches out to it, bringing it to her nose.

"One step at a time remember?" Charlie reminds her.

She clutches the jacket as she finds the courage to pass the threshold. She walks into the lounge first. The nostalgia is confusing. Everything looks the same, it's exactly how she remembers it. The cream couches, the soft, grey carpet, the small fireplace surrounded by family photographs. Her eyes move up to the walls and she studies her mother's paintings. She loved one in particular the most, a painting of a woman standing in between two girls, one younger and one older, each of them taking the woman's hand while looking out at the ocean below a clifftop. She takes the painting off the wall and she holds it close to her.

"What are you going to do with all this stuff?" Charlie asks as he observes some ornaments.

"I haven't really thought that far ahead," Molly says. "Maybe have a garage sale and donate the money to charity."

"Sounds good. We are here for a few days. Might as well make the most of it."

Molly turns and walks through the archway. The kitchen reminds her of Savannah the most. She was always in here, either baking or cooking something delicious. Molly can still smell the different aromas as though her sister is standing at the stove right now.

"Deana! Is Molly or Savannah there? I want to show them something!" Molly closes her eyes as she hears her father's voice from his study. She walks into it slowly. She sees him standing next to the window with a large book in his hands, he's as real as when the first memory was made.

"What is it, dad?" Young Molly came rushing in.

"Come here." Her father flicked his finger at her, pointing towards the tree in their back yard. "Do you see it? Right there."