Weight

Part Seven

A little over a week later on a Sunday morning, I woke up to a hazy room. I could tell it was early. The grey light was a tell-tale sign of an approaching dawn. I turned over and tried to fall back asleep, but rest eluded me. I groaned and threw my feet off the edge of the bed. I began my march downstairs but stopped short when I saw Nate still sleeping on the couch. I scolded myself for making so much noise. I would've hated myself if I woke him up this early.

I tiptoed into the kitchen and started breakfast. I scrambled up cheesy eggs and put on a pot of water for tea. A little while after, when I was almost finished my eggs, a groggy Nate trudged into the kitchen. His hair was tousled and he wiped sleep from his eyes.

"Morning," I said, making him aware of my presence. "There's eggs on the stove for you."

Nate smiled lazily at me, still somewhere in the land of the slightly unconscious. "Thanks."

Nate grabbed a plate and piled eggs on before joining me at the modest kitchen table made for four. Our morning was slow and it dragged on. We made idle chit-chat until we eventually separated. He made way to get ready for a morning run while I cleaned the dishes from breakfast. As I was loading the dishwasher, somebody knocked on the door.

I wiped my hands quickly on the towel hanging from the stove handle and briskly walked to the front door. Pulling it open, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Keller standing outside, wide grins on both of their faces.

"Good morning, Evie. Where's Nate?" Mrs. Keller greeted.

"Oh, he's upstairs getting ready for a run," I said as I gestured vaguely up the steps.

Mr. Keller marched to the steps as purposefully as ever. Even in his deteriorating state, he managed to hold his commanding presence that could gather a crowd's attention with nothing but a walk. "Son," Mr. Keller called up, "your mother and I are here. Could you come down?"

"We have something to discuss with you and Evie," chimed Mrs. Keller, striding to join her husband at the bottom of the steps.

A few seconds later Nate comes traipsing down the steps. "Hey, Mom," he said as he kisses her on her cheek in hello. "Dad."

"What did you need to talk to us about?" I asked. I couldn't think of anything to explain their appearance at our doorstep early on a Sunday morning.

Mr. and Mrs. Keller shared a knowing and glance. "We have a surprise for you two."

I looked at Nate as his eyes flicked to mine. We were both confused. "Well, what is it?" Nate asked.

"We have to drive there," Mrs. Keller said, "so go get dressed and we'll take the Benz."

I trotted up the steps and once in the privacy of the bedroom, I took a quick sniff of my pits. I needed a shower, but I felt pressured on time so instead had to settle for washing my face, swiping on strong deodorant, and spraying on some perfume. I brushed my teeth and threw on a plain outfit before grabbing my shoes and hopping back down the steps.

Nate had already returned to his parents, so I slipped my feet into my shoes and announced I was ready to go. We loaded into the vehicle and began the road to our surprise.

The car was awkwardly quiet. Things has been a little tense between Nate and his parents, just because of the uncertainties in the future. Nate was doing his best, but the sudden pressure was weighing on him. He thought he had more time. Mr. and Mrs. Keller were don't radio people, making the silence of the car even more prominent.

The drive was short; it couldn't have been more than a fifteen minute drive across town. The Kellers pulled into the roundabout driveway of a rather nice house. It was tan, with big windows and white porch pillars. The manicured lawn and bushes made for a picturesque house, one that would make you say wow, that's a nice house if you passed it.

Mr. Keller pulled the key from the ignition and the couple turned around to face Nate and I in the backseat. "Surprise!"

I looked to Nate, not following. "What?"

"This house belongs to you two now," Mrs. Keller said simply, as if the gift she had given us was as small as a bunt cake.

I opened my mouth, preparing to tell the Kellers that it was too much, that I could never accept. Then I stopped myself to think about Nate. How would he take this? Could he accept?

"Why?" he asked, dumbfounded as me.

"We wanted to do this for you. You two deserve it."

I had no response, and the next little while of time flashed by in a blur. The Kellers walked us through a tour of house. Room after room, I couldn't comprehend.

At the end of the tour, I flashed Nate a guilty look. It felt like the house meant something more than just a house. A house was a promise, a commitment. It was a place to raise a family, a place to grow old together, where you sit in rocking chairs on the porch, drinking cold lemonade in the summer and watching each other age. It felt like an expectation to me, something I wasn't sure I'd be fulfilling.

The lines for the Kellers had definitely blurred. They didn't see this as temporary. And I suppose for Mr. Keller, it wasn't. He'd spend the rest of his life watching our marriage. The guilt inside ate at me.

"Mom, Dad, really. . .this is great. But the guest house is fine, really." Nate expressed, obviously feeling the same guilt I am.

Mr. Keller tilted his eyes down at us. "Nate, we know you're sleeping on the couch. At least this house has more than one bed."

Nate looked at me and shrugged. He did have a point.

"Besides, give a dying man what he wants. I want you two living here." Mr. Keller joked.

I hesitated, wondering if I should laugh at his joke. Mr. Keller was taking his illness in strides, cracking jokes whenever he could. What else could he do, but try to lighten the mood?

When Nate nor I responded, Mrs. Keller hummed with approval. "There, it's settled. You can move in next weekend."

And with that Mrs. Keller started listing off possible places to go eat a late lunch, officially ending the argument.

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Thank you as always :)