AUGUST 1, 1975; THOMAS
9:33-9:36 p.m."I got tacos!" The sogginess of the paper bag I held shared my enthusiasm. Except it was filled with tacos and I had the kind of exhaustion that made your bones ache. It was one of those long days out patrolling. Jim had sent me out to do some grunt work and lord I could feel it. "Sweetie,"
Why did I bother calling out my wife's name? She was scarcely a wife, to begin with. Misty was never there to be one. The only thing about her I knew back in those days was exactly where she wasn't. Home.
Background Music
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-Real Estate by Adam Melchor-
⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻Chance should've been around though. Every day she met me at the door jumping up and down and talking her head off a million miles a minute. She'd take my coat and stow it away in my bedroom for me before running back out to ask me all about my day.
She had all the good qualities of her mother. Chance was an amicable little girl with a force of energy that was impossible to burn out. I envied her. She never got tired. At least that's what I thought before Eddie.
Where is she?
The trailer was empty. The only noise throughout it was the TV playing a little kiddie cartoon. There was no sign of my fiery daughter. But right when I was about to call out for her, I found her.
She was hiding in plain sight, stretched across the sofa with a tub of melted ice cream sidled to her hip. The spoon was in her fist and the evidence was all over her chocolatey chin. The most surprising of all these discoveries was her new friend Eddie.
In the junk food carnage, the two were fast asleep, still in their day clothes, laying against each other. Chance had her temple pressed against his shoulder, eyes closed, and dreaming blissfully.
I could've freaked out. I could've been that Dad. The kind that was mean and scary and cold and hated little boys that my kid took a liking to. I didn't though. He had tired her out. That was the first time I had seen anything like that. Eddie was an equal match for her.
Instead, I set down the tacos, dumped the ice cream in the sink, cleaned up the chocolate, and tucked a blanket around the both of them. As I was placing it just right to keep them warm, I lifted my head up and just looked at them again. Then I placed a kiss on Chance's forehead like I always did and instinctually did the same to the boy.
Afterward, as I began unwrapping the tacos I had no one to share with, I thought of the kid's uncle. He was probably over there next door, waiting for his little boy to come home, wondering where the hell he was.
He was alone too.
The next thing I knew I was on his doorstep, my knuckles pulsing after having knocked on his door. He came out soon after, standing in a weathered way I could relate to. A cigarette hung out of the man's mouth.
"My name's Thomas Stargrove, Sir." I snapped into my introduction, stepping forward in the polite way I always did to shake his hand. "I'm your new neighbor. I just wanted you to know that I have your little boy over at mine. It seems like he's- he's friends with my little girl."
"Wayne," He said, taking my handshake.
In a moment of hunger, for something more than food, I exhaled and threw out a spur-of-the-moment invitation.
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