I don't come out for dinner. I hear Tyler explaining quietly to his parents what's going on and I can picture them in my head, nodding along with his words, gasping at the right moments. He brings some food up to me about 5 minutes after they finish dinner and when I don't move to take it from him, he sets it down on the bedside table and sits down on the bed. He takes a deep breath and stares at the window, just like me.
We stay quiet for a few minutes. He takes a deep breath again and then starts to talk. "When I was 6 years old, my mom had a baby." he looks down at his hands then back up at the window. "I had a baby sister. Her name was Scarlett and she was this blonde haired, blue-eyed, giggly little ball of joy." when his voice cracks is when I finally look away from the window and focus on him. He shrugs and closes his eyes for a second before continuing. When he speaks again, his voice was level and controlled. "She was the first thing I could remember clearly. Scarlett got really sick just before her first birthday. She wasn't sleeping at night, she wasn't crying or eating or laughing anymore. Her first birthday was the last time I saw her smile and heard her giggle.
"She was in the hospital the next day because she stopped breathing in the morning. At the time, I didn't understand how serious the situation really was. I mean, I was 7 when she was there and I didnt know much other than that she was sick. One day when I was reading in school -and I remember this so clearly it's almost scary- Mrs. Elliot asked me to come to her desk. She wrote me a pass and told me to grab my things then she sent me to the office with the TA. When I got there, My dad was waiting with this sad, solemn look on his face. He didn't say much the whole way there and I was just sitting in the backseat of the van playing with my Superman toys. When we got to Scarlett's room, my mom was sitting next to her bed, holding her tiny little hand and crying silently. I thought she was-" his voice breaks entirely for a moment and I sit up and move next to him and take his hand. "I thought Scarlett was sleeping. I took her other hand and while we were sitting there, her hand suddenly went limp and her heart monitor flat lined. I found out later on that she had cancer and in her little body, it spread faster than they thought it would."
I move closer to Ty and wrap my arms around his waist. We sit in silence once again, me just listening to his heart beat and his quietly rhythmic breathing. After a while he looks down at me. "My point is, you're not the only one who's lost someone. I'm not saying I understand how it feels to lose your mother and your sister but I do slightly get what you're feeling. You know how my family moved on from it?" I shake my head. "We had to throw her things out. Give them away, sell them, throw some things away. It helped. I mean it hurt like hell at first but after that it seemed to get better. We were able to move on. We felt like we had done the right thing. She had a funeral and it brought closure. A few years later, we could finally hear her name without collectively cringing. I think you need to go back."
I look at him for a second to see if he's serious. "You honestly want me to go back into that hell hole of a house?" He nods and I lean back from him. "Are you nuts?"
"Just think about it, Ros." he leaves the room and I do think about it, despite my efforts not to. The next morning we headed out, me pouting in the passenger seat of Ty's new car.
-
When we get to the house, there is one cop car left on the lawn and the front door is swinging wide open. I get out hesitantly and Tyler meets me at the front of the car to take my hand and walk me up the steps into what used to be a laughter filled mansion of my own imagination.
The cop sees us from the kitchen and asks for identification. We both show our licenses and I go on to explain that I'm the daughter of the deceased. He offers his condolences and says he'll be leaving in a minute. He tells us that the crime scene has been fully investigated and sometime within the next couple of weeks, there will be people to come in and clean the place out, after they've contacted all living relatives then he leaves us in silence.
I glance over at the living room from the front entry way and look around at all her things; the throw on the couch that she's had since Skylar was born, all the pictures she took on her hikes, printed out on canvas and nailed to the wall, an empty wine glass. All just small symbols of the only life here, now covered in a thin layer of dust.
I turn away from it and go upstairs, passing our family's faces behind pieces of glass on the wall and past Skylar's room, into my mother's. It's really hard for me but with the presence of Tyler standing behind me, I get up enough courage to go to her closet. I open the doors and step inside.
This was perhaps the most put together any part of my mother's life has been since Skylar died. All her dresses were color coded and in a different section from her shirts (also color coded) which were apart from the one small section she saved specifically for her wedding dress, which she was keeping specifically for me. Her shoes were arranged in order from dress shoes to casual to slippers to work out shoes. She had a few boxes up above the clothes racks and I knew they were filled with pictures and memorabilia from when Skylar and I were little. I took one of her black strapless cocktail dresses down and picked up a pair of black pumps to go with it. I turned to Ty. "Find a box. I'm wearing these to her funeral and I might take a few other things." He nods and heads out of the room and to the garage.
I put the things I want to take on the bed, the whole time straight faced and staring ahead, telling myself simple commands that I know I can handle. Turn. Closet. Dress. Turn. Bed. Dresser. Picture. Bed. I eventually get all the things I want out of her room which doesn't really include much. The wedding dress, a black shawl, a silver heart pendant necklace, a picture of the 4 of us in Disneyland and her wedding ring. Finally Ty comes back with a giant box and he helps me put the stuff inside. We go to Skylar's room.
Walking in is like opening a time capsule. Nothing has changed since she left. There were clothes still on the bed, the room a haphazard mess. I don't even look too intensely, I just grab a stuffed bear I gave her when she was little and her baby blanket and I rush out again. I find Ty down stairs waiting by the door. "I figured you needed to do that alone." I nodded and hugged him. We stood there for a while like that, just holding on to each other, him holding me to keep me from collapsing.
After a few minutes, I pull away and tell him I need to do something. I go into the living room and and put my mother's throw into the box and then hesitantly sit at the grand piano. I slowly push the top up and I take all the pictures off the back and I put them in the box too. I prop the top all the way up and start to play Watching Lara, letting the soft music flow through my body. I temporarily forget about everything in the world. I forgot how much I loved piano when I was little until the solemn theme plays through me. I begin to play the tune to Comptine d'un autre été. I play smoothly from memory, playing to memorialize this house and everything it once held for me. All the promise, happiness, hope, light for the future.
As I play the last few notes, I feel the heat on my arm. I look up and the light shines through the small round window above the couch. I let the feeling of it all flow around me. Everything gets better for a moment and I know I can make it through this. I don't have to worry about anything. Everything will be okay.
THE END
