The Renovation Complication

51. A Picture and a Painting and some Sudden Changes of Heart

As soon as I hear Katherine's sing song laughter, I feel a huge weight lift off of my chest. That sound tells me that there is a chance, not that everything will go back to the way it was, but that everything will get better.

It's Friday afternoon and somehow, I made her laugh. What did I say, what did I say? Maybe I can say it again so that this enormous rush of joy will stay with me forever.

The cold barrier has all but crumbled. Suddenly the world looks a little brighter, despite the overcast weather.

Too soon it's over and all that remains is crinkled hazel eyes and a joyful blush in her cheeks. "So, what are you doing this weekend?" I ask, still a little dishevelled at the outburst of happy-Katherine.

I swear I see the rose in her cheeks deepen a shade. "Oh, nothing."

I tilt my head at her suspicious behaviour. "Doesn't sound like nothing."

She giggles, which makes my smile widen. I've missed having a Katherine to talk to. "Well..."

"Go on,"

"Stanley asked me out!" She jumps in the air and I practically follow suit. Katherine has been crushing on that boy since I met her.

I don't voice any doubts, because I'm positive that she has enough of her own. The only thing that bothers me is that he turned her down not last week.

But now that I think about it, I did spot his pale frame in amongst the crowd witnessing Kat's outburst last week. I think that when she was shouting, showing the protective, feisty version of Katherine, he was grinning like an idiot.

Everyone knows that Stanley Walden is a jokester, a troublemaker and a menace to society. I suppose he's never been exposed to the colourful side of Katherine, so it's fair to say that she didn't seem like his type.

I guess he changed his mind.

"I'm so happy for you, Kat." I hug her, which she allows in the spur of the moment. I'm so glad that she's reopened up to me. I couldn't have lasted much longer without her trust.

She grins, "What about you?"

"Actually nothing. Probably just rewatching Spongebob and trying to finish my room." I shrug truthfully. My life isn't exactly that interesting. At most I might do some study with Adam.

What can I say? I'm a changed woman.

Well, working on it, anyway.

There's a pause before, "Any company?"

She means Mason. But I seriously doubt it. Not only has he made it clear that he no longer wants anything to do with me, I don't think I want him to come back. It's not like he actually cares.

And I just can't handle him toying with me anymore. It's unhealthy and it hurts. Except that it's the just about the best I've ever felt since kale. Mason is refreshing, and new so not what I expected.

But you can't just play with people you don't care about. I'm not a doll.

I shake my head and I feel her put a hand on my shoulder. "Tori, I want you to know that I do support you. I don't hate Mason, more like thoroughly dislike." She jokes before adding, "Only because of what he's doing to you."

I nod, "Me too, Kat."

I sit down on the stairs, not wanting to face that stupid wall in my room. I don't think I could look at it right now. Not after what Kat said.

She's forgiven him. How could she forgive him when I haven't even forgiven him? I rest my heavy head in my hands.

"Hey," I lift my eyes to find a faded jersey in front of me, hands in pockets.

"Hi." I swallow at Alex's expression, "How are –"

"Come with me." He interrupts, nodding his head in a direction before taking off, "I have something I want you to see."

My muscles feel stiff as I rise, following his steps a little more mechanically. I stare at the back of his head, thick chocolate sweeps in a dishevelled manner.

I have more in common physically with Alex rather than Adam. Where Adam has dad's dark eyes and mom's espresso shaded hair, Alex and I have mom's honey coloured eyes and dad's mousy hair. We also have mom's temper, whereas Adam is calm and collected, like Alan.

He takes deliberate steps toward his room, not checking to see if I'm following. I don't say a word. What would I say? Even if I asked him what he was showing me, I don't think he'd answer.

I step inside his room and immediately remember my pact to clean it. I had completely forgotten - and he had let me! I really wish I had been tidying around lately, because it's quite the terror inducer. The room is dark, even with the lights turned on, and I feel like Alex intends it to be that way.

I continue to trail his path toward the other side of the basement, near his drawer. Confusion takes over as he pulls it open and fishes for something.

This is it, I chime, this is where he suffocates you with his used gym socks.

Instead he retrieves a sharp, rectangular object. "What –"

"When dad took this off the wall," He scratches his neck, "You know, after you left, I took it out of the storage room." Even he seems to not quite understand what he's talking about, as he hold out the wooden frame. "Thought you'd want it."

My forehead pinches together as I reach for the object, inspecting it in the dim light.

It's a photograph. A picture of us, our family. It's nothing like those choreographed family portraits that have white backdrops and photoshopped smiles. It's real. There's real joy in this photo.

It's in a park somewhere, and there's Adam, a few inches taller than Alex, laughing and swinging off each other like the children they are. Alan has his arm wrapped around mom's shoulder as she holds me, far too big to fit comfortably, on her hip.

Everyone is smiling, and we're all whole. This was before corruption hit, before there was boredom and embarrassment and no time.

When I see this, it's different. I don't feel like crying, as I usually do when I think of these things. I feel like laughing and smiling and telling my family that I love them.

Before Alex can protest, I crash into his chest, receiving an 'Oof!' in return. I squeeze him hard until I feel him chuckle and wrap his arms around me, also.

"Thank you." I beam into his chest.

"We're family, Vic." He mumbles, "Family stick together."