Silence | Book 2

2-5: Hey Dad

Tristan opened the iron gate to a tiled garden path in front of a free standing house built atop the hill, at the very end of a quaint lane. A low wall of stacked grey stones surrounded the fairly sizeable home. Several evergreen hedges were trimmed neatly into geometric shapes, interspersed by straight and pristine flower patches that would bloom again in spring.

Through the large bay windows he caught a glimpse of two children playing on the living room couch: a girl with her long, dark hair braided neatly, and a boy with the same hair colour, who was a little younger.

Jack looked up first, and smiled as he saw him approach. He smiled back and waved with the hand that wasn't pulling along his suitcase. The boy immediately jumped up, alerting Jane to his presence, and apparently someone else just out of sight.

While he waited for the front door to be opened, he put his suitcase in front of him and folded both his hands on the handle while smiling gently for whomever would be the one to let him in. The mechanical clicking of a few locks warned him, and a moment later the door was pulled halfway open. Behind it stood a woman with short, dark brown hair in a neat and even cut that got longer towards the front; she wore a salmon coloured blazer with black detailing, combined with a tight black skirt and glossy heels. A heavy, prominent gold necklace and several gold rings adorned her well-maintained hands. Although she smiled, it seemed more out of habit than genuine emotion.

"Ah, Tristan. Your father said he was working late, otherwise he would have picked you up." She began with a smile, resting one of her claws on the half-open door.

"That's quite alright, I took the bus." Tristan responded, his smile raising slightly to hide the fact that in truth he was a bit disappointed by his father's absence – but it would be rude to admit that.

"Oh well, students should be used to that, right?"

"Yeah..." He chuckled, hoping that the comment really had been a joke. "I've been taking busses all over Europe."

"I am sure you could tell us all about where you've been." Although she smiled wider, he couldn't discern any true excitement in her eyes. "We have been wanting to go on vacation with the family, you could recommend what country is the best to visit."

"I have pictures on my phone?" He responded, pretending that he didn't notice that the 'family vacation' implied without him.

"Mom!" A boy's voice rang out from a side door that led into the living room. "Jane won't let me play!"

"That's not true!" Jane immediately rebutted. "He keeps breaking everything."

"Jack, Jane, play nicely. Both of you!" His stepmom shouted back, only for a moment later to hear a dull thud and an angry, pained exclamation. The retaliation came a mere second later, and this time the other side shouted in pain.

Tristan tried to smile and pretend nothing was amiss; in truth he felt somewhat guilty that he was amused that siblings fought the same no matter where or how they were.

"I will put my suitcase upstairs." He said as he watched his stepmother look backwards in exasperation, before shouting for Jack and Jane to stop fighting.

"Oh, we gave Jane your old room," she clarified in between scolding. "You can have the spare room."

Even though he hadn't been told that information, he nodded and accepted it – but it stung nonetheless, unable to shake the idea that he didn't really belong anymore. Perhaps he'd never truly been a part of his father's family after the divorce, and now it appeared there was no reason to even pretend.

The spare room was more or less a mix between storage and a guest bedroom. It was the smallest in the house: between the walls covered in bookcases and a wardrobe there was barely enough space to fit the twin size bed. The wall opposite the door had two windows, but despite that the room didn't appear light or open. Yet he couldn't truly complain: it was by all means a proper bed, and he had the room all to himself.