I felt my body start to settle as I sat at Ruby's table. We had made some progress. I looked at the time, 10:12 pm. I was more than tired now. I had to work all day and hide my emotions. I was forced to hide my hurt and disappointment because Heather didn't make it to school. I had to talk myself into finding strength to get through the day. Make an appointment with Jason. Clean my house. Put a mock schedule together with Ruby and I still had to get home and clean some more. Every waking minute, I told myself, clean.
My house wasn't filthy. It wasn't covered with grime and moldy food. But it was completely overrun with crap. Crap that wasn't even mine. I felt like I lived in a box with my dad's things. My home was his storage unit. His hoarding took over our lives and I couldn't get him to get rid of it. His things were everywhere. His room, which happened to be the master bedroom,was completely filled. I often wondered how he even made it to his bed. My kitchen even had his boxes. My cupboards had more of his things than mine. Most of my things were still in boxes. My pots and pans and most of my dishware. Brad ended up buying me new plates and bowls and utensils. I didn't have the energy to dig for them.
When we moved into this house my brother's believed dad's things to be more important and made sure to keep them in front and more accessible. My things were buried in the back. For two years I lived half unpacked. And the thought overwhelmed me. I couldn't organize my home properly without buying new things. And I couldn't afford new things with Ruby's ideas. I couldn't even afford food with her ideas. I had to find a way to pull money out of my ass without actually using or abusing it. I shook my head at the idea. Everything was getting to be too much again. Too many things at once had to be dealt with.
I had to throw shit out but it wasn't my stuff to throw out. It was dad's stuff. I had to finish unpacking but I couldn't get to my things without getting through dad's things. I had to organize but dad's things were everywhere. It all came down to dad's things.
"You have to throw it out."
"I can't."
"You have to. It's in the way. I would." Ruby shrugged at me.
"Oh, good. Then you come over and throw them out."
Ruby shook her head. "Uh-uh. Your house. You deal with it. If dad were living with me I'd throw it all out."
"Easier said than done."
Ruby shook her head again. "Uh-uh. It's easy. Pick it up and put it in the trash."
"Well you complain of your son's things downstairs. Have you thrown that out yet?"
"That's different."
"How. Because he's your son and not you dad? It's still overrunning your basement. And you complain about it like I complain of dad's things. There is a way to get rid of it without getting into trouble."
Ruby went quiet for a moment. "Kick him out then." She suggested with a shrug.
I frowned at the idea. I wondered if I could do it. "Realistically I should. He certainly wasn't any help in this mess. If anything he encouraged Deborah to do it. Just to avoid him getting into trouble with her he lied about Brad. Making him look like such a terrible person. He pretty much threw the fuel into the fire before the fire was even lit." I said.
Ruby looked at me blankly.
"But I want to cover my ass. My ass is exposed enough as it is. How do I do it without any backlash?"
"Write a letter." Ruby said simply.
"A letter?" I was confused.
"Mm-hm. A letter of eviction."
