The Devil in the Details

Memories

Chapter Two

Standing on the porch next to Rose, waving good-bye to my mother, its finally official. Its just Rose and I. My mother has abandoned me to a summer alone, in a creepy old house with weird paintings, and a woman who can't seem to stand my very presence. Rose slowly turns to me with a frown flitting across her face, "Are you hungry for food or did you eat before you came? My cook is gone for the weekend, and I don't cook so if you haven't eaten, you're on your own. I am going to bed so you can make yourself familiar with the house but don't move stuff or make any sort of mess trying to find everything. Also, please don't wake me up, I have a very hard time falling asleep so I do not appreciate being woken up, a woman my age needs a decent amount of sleep." I almost tell her that she can sleep when she's dead, something that I would've said as a passing joke with my mom, but I stop myself because a joke like that probably isn't funny to someone so close to death. I settle for a polite "okay, goodnight" and then watch as she turns and walks inside. I haven't eaten because mom and I left later than we had planned so she cut dinner out of the schedule, but her abandonment and the painting have ruined any appetite I may have had in the first place. The porch is the whole length of the house and then wraps around a little bit of the side of the house; the largeness of it makes me more aware of how lonely I already feel in this house, this new town, and even in life in general. I desperately want to cry because I already miss my mom and my tiny little home, the only constants in my life. I refuse to give in to the tears welling in my eyes so I square my shoulders and turn around to face the house. I enter, and actually take a good look at the inside unlike earlier, the house is huge, I don't think I will ever be able to think of it as home. Everything in it from the grand staircase to the plants and vases scattered on tables and the floor is showy and overly extravagant. I decide to walk down the hallway in hopes of finding the kitchen. When I do manage to find the kitchen, I search the cupboards for a glass. After I pour myself some water, I continue my tour of the house, further down the hallway I find a spacious formal dining room. At the end of the hallway is a living room, this living room is much more cozy than the one I was in previously. Brown seems to be the dominant color in the room, the walls are a caramel shade and the floor is wooden and dark like all the other flooring. There are two couches that face a television and I take note of the fact that fewer windows are in this room. Two brown bean bags are in a corner next to a pleasantly stocked bookcase and in the other corner is a chair that looks comfortable enough to sleep in and a small coffee table. The room is definitely smaller than the "gray room", as I have named it and has no paintings or photos. I don't particularly care for the room so I wander back to the hallway. I walk up the staircase and assume that I am supposed to go into the room that has my many suitcases at the door. Since it is still way too early to sleep, I turn my iPod on and start to unpack my stuff. The room is basically empty, nothing is in it except for a  dresser, a bookcase, and, of course, a bed. The walls are black and gray and the bed set matches, not much of a surprise, that seems to be the dominate color scheme in the house. The emptiness of the room makes me remember my loneliness; I try to push all thoughts out of my head and just listen to the music as song after song plays while I continue unpacking.                                                                                                       

∞

I finally give up and enter the bathroom connected to my room to get ready for bed. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I realize how worn out I am, but sleep, as usual lately, still eludes me despite my exhaustion. I close my eyes, and my thoughts drift to when my mom told me I was coming to stay with Rose.

I hear my mom's voice yelling to me from downstairs every few minutes, but I don't actually process what she says because I'm so focused on my book, and I don't feel like moving from my chair or putting the book down. Eventually I can't ignore her anymore and trudge down to see what she wants. I can tell immediately something is off, she is trying to hide her agitation at my disrespectful behavior which is completely out of character. Normally she would lecture me on my manners and tell me how she doesn't appreciate my lack of response. This time its different, she smiles and tells me to sit. The fact that she is being super nice when she usually would be grilling me about why I didn't come down when I first heard her, unnerves me. I study her face closely as she starts talking, "Evelyn, I just got off the phone with Aunt Rose, you remember her don't you?" she continues quickly so I can't tell her I most definitely remember Rose and not in a nice way, "Well, we decided that you and I need to get away from this city for a while to get a new perspective. I told her that I had an offer from my work to go to Europe and handle some business we have overseas for the company." I'm little taken aback because she says this so casually when this is, in fact, the first time I am hearing about the offer, not that I am surprised though, my mom has gotten several similar offers, but she always turns them down. I hold my hand up in the universal sign for 'hold up just one second' and she pause to let me get a word in, "Wait, why didn't you tell me about this before, did you accept? Are we going to go to Europe for the summer?!" I can't help but let a little bit of my excitement at the idea of going to Europe, somewhere new and away from here, leak into my voice. My mom frowns slightly repeats my earlier action to stop me before I can fire off any more questions, "Sweetie, yes, I did accept, but you well...um...uh...I can't take you with me. That's where Aunt Rose comes in, she said you can stay with her, I know you aren't overly fond of her but I think it will be good for you, Rose really is great once you get to know her better." I stare at mom as I try to comprehend her last sentence....Rose, Europe, mom, me, Rose.  I would normally laugh because the idea is so preposterous but mom's face is completely serious. Incredulity hits me like a ton of bricks, "Mom! No, there is no way in hell I am going to stay with that...that witch of an old woman!"

Obviously my protesting fell on deaf ears, no matter how much I fought, pleaded, bargained, schemed, threatened, or begged, mom wouldn't budge, she had made up her mind before she even told me. I lost the fight, as always, because here I am in Rose's house, in one of her beds wishing I was back home or even in Europe, anywhere but here. Even the town is small and old looking; I don't think I saw any restaurants or shops when mom and I drove through. I hope my mom and I only drove through a part of the town, but I highly doubt it. I have a sinking feeling that this place is one of those old people towns. I shift my thoughts back to my mother and I wonder where she is by now, I can't help but be jealous that she gets to go to Europe and is leaving me here for my last summer before I head off to college. Despite my anger and jealousy, I am happy for my mom that she is able to get away from home, there were too many memories of dad following her around and haunting her there lately, I could tell it was affecting her. Dad was everywhere there, and while I reveled in the remnants of his memory back at home, unlike mom, I refuse to go down memory lane here, when it won't make any difference. I'm stuck in a place untouched by his memory or any trace of his presence, for the first time in a long time, I'm completely detached from him, disconnected. I let my mind wander to my friends back home, my boyfriend who I had to leave to come here, the weather, and finally, no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I think of the painting in the gray room. I have tried not to think about it at all since I saw the couple, but I just can't keep from wondering if I am insane or if it was just a trick of the light. I know what I saw though, and in the dead of night, laying awake in bed, I can't convince myself it was a figment of my imagination or a play of the light. I know that if I told anyone they would think I was absolutely certifiable which isn't a very comforting thought. Sleep starts to claim me, and I can't help but let the scene flash in my mind. As I fall into oblivion, the idea that maybe the painting was a sign from deep within my subconscious crosses my mind, but if it was, then what could it possibly mean?