Hidden Hearts | short story

TEN: LATE NIGHT ICE CREAM

TEN: LATE NIGHT ICE CREAM

It was a usual Saturday morning.

After the amount of stress I had received in the following week—with trying to act normal around Sean and balancing my studies—I was rather grateful for today.

It had been a chill morning so far—waking up without hearing the stupid alarm and knowing I could be lazy for the entire day since we didn't have any work needed to be completed. So I sat by the counter of the kitchen with some cereal and the view of the outside. The weather was nice today—it wasn't too hot and humid. I was even considering cycling today.

My eyes scanned around the empty house as my parents had left for work earlier in the morning. The wall clock in the kitchen was taunting me with the time, making sure I knew how late I got up. 11:36AM. I was still in my PJs and bed hair but I had no intention on getting ready until later in the afternoon.

My tired and barely open eyes came across a stack of letters that were placed on the counter I was eating on and I could only groan at the scattered mess. Reading for it, I checked them one by one before I would place them in a neat order for Mom and Dad to check from.

As I separated the letters for Mom and Dad, I came across this one letter. It had caught my attention and I couldn't seem to put it away, even if I knew I should.

From George Bennett

I was familIar with George Bennett. He was Dad's friend from his very early years in life up until now. Dad always spoke about George Bennett in such adoration. It made me wish I would have a friend for that long but only if life would allow me to stay with a couple of my great friends for that long.

George Bennett was a wealthy man who lives away from New Quenton in a little country called Burksinton, a little over an hour from here. Burksinton was small and quiet but it had the greatest and greenest scenery you could ever ask for. I remember bits and memories of what Burksinton looked like, although it was a blurry recollection. It had been years since I last visited that place.

What sparked my curiosity was the fact that George Bennett, a very busy and wealthy man, had sent Dad a letter. Don't get me wrong—it wasn't wrong that he did send a letter. But what could it be that made him want to send him a letter? If I recalled properly, George Bennett rarely sent Dad a letter. They would usually have a quick call.

I might have been a little too nosy that I ended up tearing the letter open to read its content.

Dear Jules Garcia,

It has been a while since our last call, hasn't it? I miss you dearly, Jules. I surely hope you can come visit us again soon. When was the last time you did? It seemed like decades ago.

I write this letter to inform you that your papers have been processed. In a few days, you would be able to move into my area and start a new life. I'm very excited for you to come and stay here! Now I will be able to see you often!

I hope your family is just as excited as I am! Can't wait to see you, Garcia. To your new life in Burksinton!

Sincerely,
G. Bennett

+ + +

I had been fidgeting about the news all day long. Dad wouldn't be home until later at night so I couldn't ask him. Looking back at the clock, I noticed it was only 2:03PM. It was still hours until Dad would get back. Calling would be an option but I didn't think Dad would be able to pick up.

2:04PM.

I wasn't going to sit around, simply waiting like this.

Just as I was about to phone my Dad, a text appeared.