Flawless Liar

Chapter Two

The sun was setting behind the mountains as I pulled into my driveway. The house was an eerie kind of silent while walking through and it was nothing like it once was. Jay's music used to fill the whole house from wall to wall with the sound of new music being written and played. Although Jay was gone a lot, this whole house used to be filled with something that resembled love and which I only now knew wasn't really love. It was hard to believe that he wasn't here anymore, it was still hard to believe that he had broken me down so low. In only a matter of a few days I had hit rock bottom watching Lifetime movies and eating pints of ice cream on my mom's couch. I had cried so much that I couldn't cry anymore and being in this house alone was proving to be more than I could take.

When I opened the closet door I noticed that Jay's things were not hanging where they once used to. After looking around I realized that all of his things were gone and granted he didn't have a lot but everything was gone. From his least favorite pair of shoes to his favorite t-shirt and guitar. He had taken all of his things and left in the Silverado. The same truck that he drove all of his whores around in and the same truck that I paid for. I shook the thoughts off and continued getting ready for the dinner that I needed to be at soon. Wasting time thinking about Jay would only bring back the hurt that was still residing in my heart, although it was only faint right now it was still capable of re-firing itself. I knew there was a part of me that wished he would still be here because the love that I felt wasn't a love that would be easily erased. 

I shuffled through my clothes hanging in the closet and decided on a simple and conservative dress to wear to the dinner tonight. I spent a lot of time processing things in my head, before all of this I had been a talkative person to an extent, but now I spent 95% of my time in silence.

Ava met me at the front door. The doors were tall wooden doors with iron bars circling over them like the doors of an old Spanish castle. I stared at the doors which were mostly there for looks since there were multiple alternative entrances and related their strong facade with my own life. It seems as though when a person experience emotional trauma they begin to analyze their lives and find symbolism is the simplest of objects. 

Ava and I met with our mother outside of the banquet room before entering. Our father was obsessed with appearances and if we didn't enter all as a single family unit, we shouldn't enter at all. We stood and waited for a few moments before my father rounded the corner with a glass of whiskey half empty in his hand. His blue eyes were no longer vibrant as I had once remembered them, they had become dull and over burdened with a weight he held on his shoulders. He didn't make any words, he simply just grunted and pushed the door open. Just as quickly as the door opened, my father changed. He went from a stressed out and selfish man to the hostess of the year in a matter of seconds. 

"Everyone, these are my daughters Alana and Avalon. They will be taking over the winery in a few years with my blessing. The company will continue on through the family just as my Grandfather wanted it to." He introduced us with such a great amount of pride and accomplishment in his voice. Ava and I could see through his facade. Our parents' marriage had been on the rocks since our father inherited the business 20 years ago. Grandfather had bestowed a great amount of pressure in our father and he was slightly doubtful that Father had the capability to run the business proficiently. Grandfather's failing health meant he had no other choice but to pass on the business. Ava and I had only just turned 1 when our father took over, but it wasn't until we had turned 11 when he completely detached himself from the family and absorbed his whole self into the business. Our parents put on a happy face when they were out among friends and business partners, but Ava and I knew that our parents were not happy. Dad spent more time at the winery than he ever did at home and their pained marriage was something that I swore I would never have and yet, here I was. I was almost mirroring my mother's position, broken and sadly left with a misconception of love. I knew why my mother couldn't leave. We were all more than well taken care of with a great sense of economic security and Mother knew that deep down she still loved our father as much as she did the day she married him. She may not admit to it, but she hoped that one day he would realize his wrongs and be the same man he once was.