Coffee with Mr. Casey

16 - Meeting the Parents

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Lola

Chandeliers and wooden coasters. Fine China on display. Endless closets. Expensive tile floors. Antique furniture in mint condition. Vases full of real, live flowers. Bathtubs the size of a Jacuzzi. Perfectly hung drapes. Windows big enough to stargaze from inside. Bookshelves filled with novels that would take years to read. Everything sparkled. Nothing was dirty.

It was a perfect house, with perfect furniture and perfect everything. There were countless rooms that probably served no purpose, and bathrooms that hadn’t been used. I’d only seen the top floor hallway, and I was afraid to see the rest of the house. I’d thought Julia’s parents were rich, but apparently lawyers had nothing on hotel owners.

 “What are you doing?” Johnny’s voice deeply whispered behind me.

I jerked around from the sculpture I was gazing at to find his silhouette hovering over me. He reached up for my cheek and gently traced his fingers against my skin.

“It’s three in the morning. What are you doing up?” He asked.

I pointed towards the open door that revealed the bathroom. “I had to go, and got sidetracked by all this stuff.”

Even though it was too dark to see, I could hear the smile as he spoke. “That painting over there,” he nodded towards the wall at the end of the hallway, “my parents paid twenty bucks for it at a flea market.”

I stared at the framed canvas with shock. A picture of an elegant waterfall on a warm spring day surely looked as if it would go for thousands of dollars, though I never understood art.

“Don’t be so surprised,” he chuckled, doing a scissoring motion with his hand. “They clip coupons, too.”

Whether that meant anything or not, it didn’t make me perceive differently. Seeing where he grew up made me doubt that he understood what I was going through. He didn’t know what it was like living in a shit house, or to have shit parents.

Maybe what I felt was jealousy—jealousy because everyone I’d ever known had been pampered since they were babies. I, on the other hand, spent all my wages from my ex-job at the ice cream shop to buy an outfit just so I’d have one thing different to wear for the new school year. Thinking about that made me bitter at times.

Johnny took my hand in his and led me back to his bedroom. I noticed then that he was only in his boxers before he jumped back into the Star Wars bed. Now, that I expected. Everything in the room screamed Johnny Casey—the posters, the guitar stand, the old video game consoles. Despite everything, he was a regular guy and I couldn’t help but envy that.

“I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep now that I’m wide-awake,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. I watched as he slid back out of the bed, grabbed his pants off the floor and fished around the pocket. After he retrieved whatever he was looking for, he walked over to his window and pushed the curtains aside. The window was actually a door—something I wouldn’t have missed if it weren’t for the drapes—and it led to a small balcony. I followed him out and quietly closed the door.

Johnny stood against the railing with his back facing me. Gazing over his shoulder, I noticed the moonlight complimented the lush back yard. I’d never seen so many roses before, all red and white. It reminded me of Alice in Wonderland when the queen’s card-shaped guards where painting the white flowers red.

The sound of scuffling distracted me from the view, and my gaze fell down to Johnny’s hands. A pack of cigarettes was what he had in one, and a lighter in the other. He easily lit one and took a long drag. It nearly made me want to cough just watching him.