Lies

Chapter 12:

"Mom, I'm here!" I shouted in the big foyer of their three story home. I looked around me and took in the familiar surroundings to when I was here last time. The photographs, the tan walls and the large window that looked out onto the well-manicured lawn.

I heard footsteps on the grand staircase that sat further on from the foyer which was closer to the kitchen. My mother came into view with a large smile on her face and her arms outstretched.

"Hey, mom." I said, smiling and walking into her open arms that were always so comforting and full of love. I could smell her perfume that set my nose tingling a bit. It smelled like some kind of flower that's smell had been largely exaggerated. I had to take small breaths to keep the strong odor out of my nose. I was more into soft perfumes that did not give off a lot of odor and when I came across my mother wearing that exact kind, I often had to act like I liked it to keep her happy. It was just one minor setback in my long life that I could stand.

"Thank you again for coming. I don't think I could've done this myself." My mother stated, pulling away so that we were face-to-face. It was in this position that I could really see the resemblance between us. She had the same face shape as me, along with other important features that could prove that we were related to each other. I was almost a split image of her.

"No worries. How much junk do you have up there?" I joked, looking up at the high ceilings. My mother started to laugh which brought the tiny wrinkles near her eyes to shine through. I laughed along with her; our conjoining laughter bouncing off the ceilings of the house. It was almost too loud to bear.

"Not junk, Iris. It's all your school stuff and old furniture from the old house we never got rid of. Plus a bunch of other things that probably aren't needed." My mother said, shrugging her shoulders.

"See! It's junk. Why would you need to keep all our school stuff?" I asked, finally taking my shoes off and setting them on the carpet on the oak paneled flooring. I set my purse down by my shoes and stood back up.

"Oh, darling! It's for a keepsake. All of you grew up so fast, I needed something to remember your childhood years." My mother said, putting her arm around me and leading me into her gourmet kitchen. Dark oak cupboards littered the walls in the kitchen with perfect symmetry. The appliances in the room were stainless steel and the walls were a blood red. Fixtures were placed around the room and a vase sat in the middle of the dark oak table with roses that I could plainly smell from where I stood with my mother. It was a magnificent kitchen; hand-crafted by the most expensive house designer there had ever been. Nothing less then the best for the Ranglewood's right?

"How sentimental, mom." I said, looking at her. She was wearing a under armor shirt with shorts that matched perfectly with the bright yellow shirt. Her hair or what was left of it was hidden inside of a highly stylish hair scarf that brought out the color of her eyes.

"Iris, now stop." She said, laughing. I watched as a tear left her eye and as she wiped it away. "Okay. Would you like anything to drink before we go up into the deepest, darkest part of the house?"

"No, I think I'm fine." I said, shaking my head. My mother nodded and looked around the kitchen before she walked out. I was left to myself, looking at my mother while she left. She seemed almost different to me somehow. Almost happier and more excepting of things. Was it because she was only a couple treatments away from being done with chemo? Or was it that my father was finally acting himself and she didn't have to worry sick about him all the time?

I didn't know but I liked having my mom back and with that thought in mind, I followed her up the grand staircase and to the guest rooms and other mysterious rooms inside of their wondrous house. A door stood ajar at the back of the hallway and I took a peek in. My father sat with his back to us in a chair behind a sophisticated desk. His head with positioned backwards as if the back of the headrest was a comfortable pillow. On closer inspection, it seemed that he was sleeping, for his snores could be heard from the outside of the hallway.